A Dragonborn by any other name

A Sister Returns

Meanwhile…. In Falkreath Hold.

"Up the path, past the town, look to the right, then go down." Lucia muttered under her breath, walking sullenly along the road. She had spent the last few days away from people, after waking in a cold draughty cave. She already missed the warmth of southern Cyrodill, or the hot deserts of Elseweyr, where she had spent her time. She just hoped the old rhyme was still correct, and the sanctuary hadn't moved in the last century. Or been lost, like the others. Finally she found a path, which seemed to fit the description, heading slightly downhill into a small grove, with a pond. And the door. That was when she knew she was on the right track. Frantically, she searched her mind for the passphrase, it had been so long, and stepped up to the door, placing her hand on the matching print.

"What is the music of life?" The door asked, eyes glowing, voice cold and gravelled.

It hit her, the answer she remembered her mother saying, so many times… her mother… but she pushed the thought away. "Silence my brother."

The door scraped open, groaning, with a whispered "Welcome home, sister."

She smoothed her dark robes, the best she had been able to procure, and heard voices, mostly unfamiliar, but a few vaguely triggering her memory. Then a child's voice, old beyond her apparent years cut through.

"You may choose to be unconcerned, but that is not Festus." A low growl seemed to agree, as mayhem was heard to break out. Lucia sighed, and descended the stairs. She couldn't be sure of the reaction, but would have to speak quickly to ensure she wasn't killed. She spoke in return, knowing there would be at least two assassins around the corner, throwing her hood back.

"No. I'm not that impudent boy Babbette. I know it's been a while but surely you remember your friend." There was a squeal, and a small shape pushed between the pair, throwing herself at Lucia, who let out a small whomph. She chuckled, and wrapped her arms around the small girl, who gave her a wide smile, revealing her fangs.

"Lucia! You're alive!" She stepped away, and dragged her to the main hall, where there were various others gathered, all dressed in muted burgundies and black. They all looked curiously at the person their small friend was half-dragging in. Babette grinned. "Brothers, sisters, this is Lucia. She has been part of the family almost as long as I have." Lucia smiled, and inclined her head.

"How do you do everyone." She wasn't sure what to make of the looks she was getting, having the feeling she had upset something. She tilted her head quizzically. "Is the Mistress of the sanctuary in?" At the words, a blonde figure pushed through the crowd, and crossed her arms. The face was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She hadn't been to Skyrim in a long time, far longer than her sister. The honey tones triggered something though, a memory.

"We didn't think anyone from Cheyindal was still alive, except the Keeper. Is he with you?" Lucia's eyes flared in alarm.

"Cheyindal's gone?! I was attached to Lleyawin. And mother…." She sat abruptly on the ground, paling. "Corinth is fallen also, Gwen, the Speaker, and I barely escaped with our lives." She was panicking, that much was obvious. She keeled over as everything went black, the last thing she saw being her friend's worried face.

Some time later, she woke, in an unfamiliar bed, in a vaguely familiar room. She groaned and sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose, and looked around. A voice startled her, though she should have been expecting someone would be put on watch over her. "You're awake," The voice came from an ashen skinned woman, a Dunmer, who was sitting near her. "You caused quite a stir back there. We haven't heard any news from other sanctuaries in…. quite some time." Gwen inclined her head, acknowledging the words.

"As far as I know, this is the only one left. Wayrest may still be open, but we've lost contact." She chuckled softly. "I probably should have written, but I was a bit distracted when we were taken as we crossed the border."

"We?" The woman inquired.

"Oh… my sister and I. We travelled together. I don't know where she is though. We were separated…." She trailed off, mind flashing back, before she was distracted by the smell of food. "Is there something I can eat?" Her companion laughed.

"Yes of course. It was Nazir's turn to cook today, so you're in for a bit of a treat. I'm Gabrielle by the way, Nazir is the Redguard, Babette you obviously know, Astrid is the Matron, with Arnbjorn as her husband. Who does that leave… Festus is the grouchy old mage, he's back now and Veezara is the Argonian." Lucia nodded, trying to keep the names straight, and stood, brushing herself off.

"Alright. I'll introduce myself properly… this time hopefully without so much…. Drama." Gabriel nodded, and led her out to the kitchen, where a steaming meal was laid out, with everyone sitting down around.

"Looks like our guest woke up just in time." This came from the blonde, Astrid. Lucia inclined her head.

"I apologise for the problems Matron. I haven't slept in a while and I suppose it got the better of me." Astrid gave a smile at this, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It is fine. And we have reason to celebrate, knowing another dark sister survives. Please, sit, and eat. You must be hungry." Lucia nodded again, and took a place, helping herself and digging into some of the aromatic food, looking around the table at everyone else occasionally. When she finished, and looked up again, she realised she was once more the centre of attention. Babette spoke up, leaning on the table eagerly to look at her.

"So… tell us a story Lucia… and try not to faint in your soup."