Fabula de Viro - A Fan Fiction Novel
By Darkom Nightblossom
Part One
Initium (The First Chapters Lack Detail on Purpose. My Other Fan Fic Goes Into Greater Detail)
Viro, future Rex Regum, had a humble entrance to Cyrodiil. The Bosmer man arrived by boat to anvil around 3E 421. He left the town almost immediately, after stealing a dagger and a black horse. He rode away into the pitch lack night and was not seen for many a year. By the time he was 25, Viro had become a powerful warrior, and a stronger assassin, in that time. He learned skills of stealth and trickery, of blade and bow. He frequented small villages for new equipment he could not find in the wild, but he never strode through the gates of a town or city until the dark brotherhood contacted him.
Nolata, speaker of the black hand, visited him one night at one of his many camps. When he awoke, he calmly addressed the killer with the now famous phrase “Since you are not death, I need not fear ye. So speak, and speak well, before the ground is spoilt with the blood of killers.” To which Nolata replied “I am not death, but his humble messenger. I am not here to dirty my blade, but to recruit one. I am here as a brother and a speaker, and the mother, offering a hand to a child in the mud.” With these words, Viro became an assassin under the brotherhood.
But he was making no empty threats when he challenged Nolata. His skill was unmatched within the brotherhood, and he became speaker, replacing Nolata, who had disappeared and was presumed dead. But even whilst Viro was rising through the ranks of the brotherhood, his mind was unspoiled by their teachings of Sithis. Viro did not believe the ravings of madmen, whose only thoughts were of rituals and appeasing some dark entity. He did not keep such thoughts to himself, and many a time did another member challenge him. He personally slew 20 brothers in this way, but such pointless death did not appease him. He believed in strength, but not in fighting. Controlling, and never obeying.
Months later, Viro, new listener of the brothers of darkness approached the Night Mother for the first time. She spoke to him, and he listened for the first time in years. From her presence he felt power. He felt that he finally met someone who could not be killed. And he wanted such power for himself. So instead of bowing to her, he strode up to her and said “You, my dear, are no mother. You are a killer, an assassin of the highest caliber and fighter of times long past. You are ancient and everlasting, and I know you hold secrets shared to no one but the strongest. So here I am; a vassal of strength, not Sithis. I pledge myself to no god. So I ask you, how did you come to be?” The Night Mother laughed. She raised herself high and told him not to fear. He was enraged “Fear!? I have no fear; I need not fear anything that walks this land!”
“You are full of fear and pride. You lie to yourself every morning so you may leave your bed, and every night so you may sleep. You worship no god because you fancy yourself one. You are weak, but we will make you stronger. Maybe one day you will meet him. As long as you don’t die…” With that she struck him in the heart with a dagger of the purest night. He fell to the floor of the crypt, and the Night Mother issued these words, so softly, Viro wasn’t sure he heard them “Ab incunabulis.”
Metus
Viro awoke to a strange place. He was in a cave, deep underground and all but for the small raft he was on, a vast lake. Long pillars of stone rose from the lake to the ceiling. The darkness was near complete, save for a single candle beside him. Even more unsettling, the water was still as glass. Viro was without any equipment but a small coil of rope, a rusted iron dagger, and the clothes on his back; the raiment of a beggar. He rose to a sitting position and looked around far as the meager light would allow. He spoke aloud “Where am I? What has happened that I have ended up in such a dismal place?” He gazed into the jet black water and felt it. The fear of which the Night Mother spoke.
Suddenly he remembered. The Night Mother! She must have been the one to put him here, but how? He raised his hand to his chest and found a wound freshly wrapped in bandage. He recalled the feeling of the dagger as it slipped through his flesh, missing his heart and arteries by fractions of an inch. Once more he shook with fear.
The darkness consumed him, his candle had burnt out. But he was not helpless. He recalled a spell he had learned long ago to allow him to see in such places. He cast it, but all he saw was blood red. The water, the raft, his body appeared to be covered in fresh, scarlet blood. He jumped at the sight of the sea of blood and caused ripples to spread across the water. He could not see it, nor hear it, but he sensed that something had awakened. He felt a dark, dangerous shape move closer and closer to his small, now insignificant feeling raft. He pulled out his dagger and spoke to the beast “I might be afraid, I might be alone, and I might be unprotected, but you were not meant to take me, beast! I will serve a higher purpose than your dinner!”
With these words, the world seemed to slow. Viro’s vision was dark once more, no longer did he see blood, but he saw instead his entire life up to this moment. From the time he was raised in a far away land, to his existence as a murderer and thief in the forests of Cyrodiil. He looked back on his career as an assassin and found it all unsatisfactory. He felt a deep, invading need to do something to leave a mark on Tamriel. But more important than the need was the courage. He felt that he could defeat the beast, that he could escape from the cave, and that he could take revenge on those who did this to him. And with this feeling came a light, a salvation from above. At first Viro thought he was imagining things; until a deep voice called out to him “Fool, toss up the rope before it gets to you!” Following the command, Viro grabbed the coil and immediately threw one end towards his savior.
The man in the light caught the rope and began to pull Viro up out of the evil lake. The raft was destroyed in the jaws of a giant serpent just as Viro left it. Once at the mouth of the hole, Viro was blinded by the stark light. Shielding his eyes with his arm, Viro addressed his mysterious savior “Thank you for saving me from that abyss, but I must know, who are you, and why I was there to begin with?” The man, whom Viro could now see the large outline of answered “Who am I? I am called Desideratus, initiator of the weak. You were obviously down there because it was ordered. It was ordered because you fear, and you thought yourself important. Unfortunately, you still possess that pride. That must be rid of as well.” With this, Desideratus grabbed Viro’s shirt and tore it off. He took one finger and thrust it into the still half-blind Viro’s wound. The last shadow Viro saw was one of bright red blood spurting from his chest. But Viro did not fear. He no longer knew how to fear.
Fastosus
Viro awoke once more, but did not open his eyes. Not out of fear, but out of thought. He was contemplating the turn his life had taken. Who Desideratus was and what he was initiating him into. He realized by now that he was going through some kind of nightmarish trials. For what purpose he did not know, but he did know that the last one helped him somehow. It had broken the fear. He was faced with all things frightening and his mind was altered. Whether it was sorcery or psychology he could not say, but it was well devised. However, he was also enraged that anyone could think of doing this to him. He, Viro, most powerful assassin in Cyrodiil and commander of an army known as the dark brotherhood. These things made him think of Desideratus’ final words to him. Words of pride.
He remembered what had happened and felt his wound again. Fresh bandages. He wore no shirt. “Guess I only get the one.” He whispered to himself, remembering Desideratus ripping the first off. “Pride” someone whispered.
Viro opened his eyes. And he saw himself. Hundreds of times, all over the walls, ceiling, and floor, mirrors coated the room. But each reflection was different in some subtle way. One would hold a smile and another wear a scowl. One would be blood splattered and another would look as innocent as a baby lamb. It was in their features, their expressions, their movements. And then one, one was pointing at him. He could not hear the words, but he knew what they was saying “Who are they? Who are we? Who are you?” And he found himself saying the same thing back. Over and over it ringed in his ears, but the room was silent. One by one the figures began pointing and talking. The silence became louder. Soon it was so loud he could barely stand it “Pride!”
“Aaagh!” Viro screamed. The glass shattered, but the figures remained. Now they were free, walking towards him. All were yelling now “Pride, Viro, pride!” “What?! What do you want?!” All went silent. One of the reflections walked up. He looked to be an exact copy of Viro, until he spoke “What do we want? We are you, everything you have ever been. Fear made you reflect, so we appeared; now pride will make you change!” The reflection that spoke had fangs of a beast. They were razor sharp and bone white, Viro guessed they had to be at least an inch and a half long, each. “Hell bound mortal, learn this verse ‘When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.’ Can you guess its meaning?” All the reflections repeated “When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.”
A normal man would fear such things, but fear had already been conquered for Viro. And so he said “What wisdom would an assassin need?!”
“Assassin? You are no assassin. And all need wisdom, for it is the basis of thought. Without thought, how would you kill? As wildly as you have been? You lack guidance, but we can provide for you. But with pride there is no room for wisdom.” With this the demonic reflection crouched down and whispered right into Viro’s ear “How do you lose pride? For you must want to by now, without fear to cloud your judgment. You must realize that pride is simply the belief that you have accomplished something of importance. So what all have you accomplished?”
Viro closed his eyes and thought. He tried as hard as he might, but he could think of nothing worth mentioning. He realized he had done nothing. And when he opened his eyes, all the reflections were gone. He was lying in a field of grass and trees. A large shadow was blocking out his view of the sun.
“Desideratus? Why are you here, what happened to all the-“
“They are gone, fool. Surely you have realized by what they were. Illusions. While fear is a basic emotion, solved with physical persuasion, pride is a state of mind. You can’t just make it go away with a snake in a cave.”
“Illusions, but…why? Who are you, and what am I being tested for?”
“They are not tests. They are…classes. You are beginning your instruction.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see. You’ll see.” Desideratus splashed a warm liquid onto Viro, and Viro fell asleep once more. Yet now he thought of himself as a student, not a victim. For to be a victim, you must be somebody, and to be somebody, you must have the right state of mind. A mind of a man who has done nothing wrong, and accomplished much that he can be proud of. But without pride, what could Viro be proud of?
Disciplina
Viro this time did not awake in a cavern, or a small corner of his own mind. This time he awoke in a bed. He was fully clothed and felt that he had been bathed and fed. He was at ease. He feared not the future, nor was he aware of the past. Once he forgot his meager deeds, he remembered only his skills. Things he had learned in his years of training. They now seemed unimportant, as he thought of why Desideratus would heal him if he was not to help him. Heal him not of physical wound, but of mental anguish. What purpose would such enlightenment serve without future goals and plans? Surely Desideratus had his best interests at heart. He opened his eyes to see none other than Desideratus standing above him with a knife at his throat.
“Wha-“
“Silence. You will listen and not speak. I have brought you here for my own reasons and my own orders. You are about to realize that your life will serve a purpose and that you will become skilled. But now you are weak. You already know that much. What you do not know is why, and I will not tell you. That, my young Coepi, is for someone higher than a Iudex to decide. An Magister is about to come in. If you speak, you will die.”
Viro was not afraid of Desideratus, or the blade which he held, but he was eager to hear this tale. He was eager to hear answers. But he wondered first where he was. He seemed to be in some small tent, with a cot and small chest, which the massive Desideratus was sitting on. A chair was near the front flap, of which light was streaming through. It appeared to be sometime in the afternoon, but how many days it had been since he last knew what was happening he could not say. A shadow broke the light and soon after a tall, slender man walked through.
He wore a long black cloak, with a single silver dagger at his belt. He appeared to be a high elf and had his hair tied back in a knot. His face showed lines of age, but his eyes shined with the energy and eagerness of a child. Despite that, they still gave off the feeling of deep wisdom, and great skill. He strode confidently towards Viro’s cot and said in a voice befitting a prince, complete with a subtle sneer “You are the one the Night Mother spoke of? You look like nothing more than a green bandit. But still, you passed both trials, albeit with some difficulty. I take it Desideratus has told you nothing. Good, you’ll both live longer that way.”
Viro started to speak, but changed his mind once he felt Desideratus’ knife at his jugular. “Well, you shall begin basic training, and if you live, some questions will be answered as you complete your training,” The tall elf said with a wolfish grin “You have one hour until the torture begins. Desideratus, I permit you tell him only where he is and why. Not any names or advice on the future. I know how overly sympathetic you can be with the Coepi.” With that the elf left.
‘Overly sympathetic?’ Viro thought ‘What about the time he stabbed me in my already fresh wound?’
“Yes, sir” Desideratus said “You are lucky he looks favorably upon you. Most Coepi don’t even get the benefit of being told they are about to undergo training.” Switching to a more solemn face, he asked “You heard him, any questions? Appropriate ones, mind you.”
“Y-yes, where are we?”
“Fen, a training camp, and the first safe place for you, and as to why you are here, because the Night Mother decided it.”
“Who is the Night Mother, really?”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin “I can’t say. Maybe when you’re a bit stronger. Ask him” He finished, pointing towards the tent flap.
“Why am I being trained?”
“I already told ye, you idiot. The Night Mother ordered it.”
“And I’m not to know who she is? So is that all you can tell me?”
“Well…” He looked back towards the flap “Don’t tell anyone, but you are training in the arts of a basic warrior here. Long blade, bow and arrow, horse riding, fist combat, and basic fightin’ magic are all elements of hell here.”
“But aren’t you assassins, why do you need to know how to handle a long blade?” Asked Viro.
“You think we never need a good sword? Sometimes, lookin’ like a basic, run of the mill idiot with a huge sword is the best disguise of a-.” Desideratus’ eyes widened in fear “I shouldn’t have said that. Forget all that, and if anyone ever asks, tell ‘em you didn’t know until later. Alright?”
“Yes s-sir.”
“Alrighty, get some sleep. You’ll need it. Also, there’s some bread on the table.”
“No there is-” Just as Desideratus left, a small loaf of bread appeared, seemingly out of thin air on the small table in the middle of the tent. Viro could only imagine what kind of speed it took such a large man to perform such a feat. ‘Or maybe he’d used magic. No, the only reason he would hide it ‘till now is because that tall elf wasn’t to see it, and magic probably wouldn’t have worked on him. A Magister, Desideratus called him.’
As Viro struggled with the problem, he ate the bread, so as to make sure no one else saw the large man’s kindness. He quickly fell asleep, but just as quickly, he was rudely awakened by a small, skinny boy.
“Oi, get up you maggot. I haven’t got all day, if I don’t get you to him I’ll be roasted for sure!” The youth appeared to be about 11 years old. ‘Hadn’t even hit puberty yet,’ Viro thought ‘What kind of organization recruits kids?’ The boy had short black hair, ragged clothes and a small bow across his back.
“What’re you waitin’ for, you got to get to torture 101, geezer” The boy said with a laugh. His voice was still high as well. He appeared to be barely 5 feet tall and maybe 90-some pounds. He had thin arms and legs, but when he pulled Viro out of bed, he seemed surprisingly strong.
“Now, you gonna’ lie in the dirt all day?! Follow me if you value your life, jerk!”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming. Settle down.” Viro said with a yawn as he got up and followed the boy out of the tent. As the flap opened, he realized he had no idea where he was or what the outside looked like.
It was truly magnificent. A great swamp, like none he’d ever seen. The trees were large and full of leaves and animals. Bird’s nests, squirrels, and a plethora of other animal signs were spread throughout the branches. Also in the trees were several man made platforms of wood connected to each other by bridges and to the ground by ladders. The floor of the swamp was surprisingly dry, and had several ferns growing out of the soft, brown dirt. Large boulders coated with moss dotted the encampment, as did small cooking fires. Training equipment and the like were spread everywhere, including many archery targets, wooden dummies, sparring mats, and a horse track. Aside from the small tent he had been in, there were dozens of others. Some tents were as small as his, and some were many times its size. There was also a small stable and a blacksmithing area. Through the entire camp a small creek flowed, with several small bridges crossing it.
What also filled the camp were people. People of all ages were walking about, men and women, boys and girls. There was also a fair mix of races, but the majority seemed to be Argonian. Some were practicing combat and horse riding, firing arrows at the targets from amazing distances with even more outstanding accuracy. The sparring, with and without weapons of all types and sizes, surpassed anything he had seen in a fighters guild or the dark brotherhood. Beside every area of training, there seemed to be a teacher of sorts. A more skilled looking member who appeared to be shouting directions and advice at the students. “Oi, are you just gonna stand there and gawk, you can take part too, heh-heh.” The boy finished with a chuckle, walking along a path.
“Alright, where are we going?” Viro asked, as he followed the boy.
“Boy, you new recruits sure sound dead on the inside. The trials still fresh in your mind?”
“You could say that. Are they the same for everyone?”
“Not at all. Different people have different problems. Fear, overzealous killing, refusal to kill, and my favorite, pride. Which ones did you have?”
“Fear and pride.” Viro said, remembering the tests he had to go through who knows how many days before.
“Ha, thought so. Well, you didn’t get the worst, believe me. There have to be at least 50 of the blasted things.”
“Really? That’s surprising.”
“Eh, once you’ve been around as long as I have, it doesn’t seem very bad. You don’t seem too confused by anything. Don’t you want to know some things?”
“I know just about everything I need to. Where I am, why, and what comes next. I never had a big problem with curiosity. Is that a trial?” Viro finished with a small laugh.
“Yup.” The boy smiled. The boy led Viro over one of the small bridges towards a large circle in the ground. A strong, spike-headed Argonian was standing in the center.
“This is where I leave you to your hell. See you later…” The boy called, pausing at the end to wait for Viro to give his name.
“That’s for him to know, whelp!” The Argonian snapped. Now that he got a good look at the trainer, he realized he was missing a good portion of his tail, and perhaps a few fingers. ‘As if by hot blade’ Viro thought, looking at the scars around the wounds.
“Well? Are you going to say anything or just stare?!”
“No, sir, I am just not sure of what to think. What are we going to train here?” Viro asked.
“Train? Despite what the others have said, I train nothing. I simply fight you until you improve. The training is up to you.”
“Alright, so when do we begin ...” Viro let the sentence hang, waiting for the Argonian to give a name.
“We begin now, and you need not my name. If you land a hit, I’ll tell you.”
“Got it.” Viro said confidently, raising his hands in a guard.
The unnamed trainer did not bother with a guard. All Viro saw was a red blur at the edge of his vision, then an explosion in his lower body. Viro fell over, gasping for breath.
“That’s it? Didn’t you pass the trials? What kind of slow n’wah are you?” The trainer walked away, sat against a nearby tree, and watched Viro lie on the ground.
“I can’t leave until you are trained appropriately, so please hurry.” He said in a condescending tone. Three minutes of silent pain on Viro’s part later, he got up. He did not say anything; he just put up his guard, lower this time, and waited for the Argonian. The trainer stood up, walked about 6 feet from Viro, and disappeared completely from Viro’s vision. Not a second later, Viro’s knees buckled, from the kick the lizard had delivered there. This time, Viro fell backwards and looked at the skilled fighter. Immediately after Viro made eye contact, the trainer walked back to the tree and sat down once more.
“You can use anything you’d like to fight me. Magic, weapons, anything you can think of. I’m only permitted to use speed and power. See if you can match it with strategy.”
Viro said nothing in return, but while he lay there, he thought of what few spells he knew, and planned his next attempt. A few minutes later, Viro disappeared, turned invisible by his spell. The trainer felt a summoning, and realized Viro had called a weapon of some kind to strike him with. Since he was not permitted to use anything but his speed and his strength, he just tensed all his muscles, and waited for Viro to make the first move.
The Argonian sat there, seemingly alone, for twenty more minutes. He had no idea Viro was still even there, but he trusted the patrolling guards to ensure he didn’t escape. He also trusted the trials Viro went through, trusting them to awaken Viro, so that he would not fear the fist of his teacher. As the Argonian thought these things, his muscles relaxed slightly. Viro, hiding in the tree above him, took this chance to spring the trap he had been setting the entire time he had been invisible. He commanded the dremora warrior he had summoned to attack, and simultaneously jumped from his perch down towards his trainer, daedric dagger in hand.
The Argonian felt the slight breeze created by the dremora’s untrained movements, and jumped away from him immediately. Viro had planned on this, and had jumped in that same direction. However, the trainer felt this too, and immediately changed course, and not a moment too soon. Viro managed only to give him a small scratch on his forearm, then he crashed into the ground, reappearing. The dremora continued on, but was immediately released when the Argonian delivered a kick to the poor demon.
“Ha ha ha,” The trainer laughed “Well, you managed to hit me, so I shall keep my promise. My name is Mwhyll. Remember it, for we are not done yet.” He finished with a small smile.
“Got it.” Viro said, releasing the dagger and instead summoning a pair of dremora gauntlets and cuirass.
“So if you can’ beat my speed, or my power, you will just surround yourself in armor? A sound enough strategy. That is, if the armor was enough to stop me. I was told not to hold back once you got my name.” Mwhyll said, disappearing again from Viro’s vision. Viro immediately jumped forward, dodging a punch from the side by mere inches.
“Ah, you will also try to read me? That is also not enough, and your magic power seems to be running low.” What Mwhyll said was true; Viro could not keep the armor in this plane much longer. So he intended to carry out his plan before then.
3 hours later, Viro gasped “It’s no use, you have no openings.”
“That is not entirely true,” Mwhyll stated, in a flat tone, showing no fatigue whatsoever “Many above my rank have successfully struck and beat me.”
“Well, I don’t even know what these ranks are, but I seem to be below yours.”
“That is correct, and you will learn once we have finished.”
“When is that?” Viro asked.
“When I decide you are ready. Concentrate on learning and impressing me, not winning.” Mwhyll said, as he disappeared once more. This time, however, Viro was able to catch a glimpse of Mwhyll’s movements, and could dodge accordingly.
“Impressive, you seem to be improving your reflexes quite a bit. But there are three things you need to work on for those.” He said, throwing a straight punch, not disappearing, but directly at Viro’s chest. Viro saw that it was not as fast or strong as Mwhyll usually was, and decided to block it downward, and counter with a strike to the Argonian’s head. However, the trainer seemed to have foreseen this, and took the chance to kick out Viro’s leg, and cause him to fall to the soft ground.
“The 3 principles of reflexes are: Recognition, Interpretation, and Implementation. Learn these, and then your mind will be capable of reacting as fast as one of ours.”
“Recognition is simple enough, but what do you mean by the other two?” Viro asked from the ground.
“I told you, I am not here to teach a lesson, I simply fight you until you figure it out. Take as long as you need.” Mwhyll said, walking back to his tree.
Viro sat in thought until the sun began to dip in the darkening sky. Then he spoke, to whom, he could not say “Recognition means to perceive the opponents move and intentions, then interpretation means to decide an effective counter, and then implementation means to carry out those plans. That much is simple, but improving such a thing would take years of intense training. How might I do it in only days?”
“I never gave a time limit. We can do this for years if we have to. But if it takes that long, you aren’t as good as we thought. Oh, and if you care, reflexes don’t need to take time to train, just realizations.” With that the Argonian got up, as if expecting Viro to do the same.
“Realizations?” Viro asked.
“Yes. These you must come by yourself. Think as you fight.” He said, beginning to disappear again. This time, Viro did not stand and watch him, trying to keep up with his speed. He instead chose to remain lying down, staring straight up, with a hand behind his back. Mwhyll lunged down upon him from above, but Viro had seen him. Viro dove to the side, slashing at the trainer with a conjured dagger, making another scratch on Mwhyll’s arm, but deeper this time.
“You chose to stay lying down, cutting the possible directions of my attack down by a half.”
“You did the same thing with the tree.” Viro said, keeping the dagger between him and Mwhyll.
“True,” Mwhyll said “but that is not reflexes, that is strategy. Both are fine and good, but strategy won’t impress me.”
“Fine.” Viro said, jumping towards Mwhyll. He kept the dagger ready in front of him, but did not make a motion to swing or stab. Mwhyll’s left arm shot out to interrupt Viro, but Viro saw this and pressed it towards Mwhyll’s inside. He then tried to stab the Argonian in the ribs, pressing off his right foot to change his momentum. Mwhyll jumped back, but it was too late, Viro was already extending his arm to stab while jumping towards him. Mwhyll lowered his arm at the last moment and Viro stabbed it instead.
“Tsk,” Mwhyll grunted “Those were reflexes. I cannot stand here bleeding and still tell you that you need more training. You have passed.”
Viro said nothing, only falling to the ground and passing out with exhaustion.
“Aw, fainted already. Guess the strain was too much. Oh well, he did well, he is ready to spar the other Coepi.” Mwhyll said to himself “Blentyn! Come bring the fool back to his tent!”
The child that had escorted Viro to the training ground appeared. “3 hours? That’s not bad. I took 4.” Blentyn said.
“Stop mumbling and do what I said!” Mwhyll said.
“Yes Mr. Exigo, no need to get snappy.”
“Just because you recently became an Exigo as well doesn’t mean you can start giving me lip, boy.”
“Fine, when should I wake him tomorrow?”
“Desideratus will take care of that. He is training him tomorrow.”
“This guy is being trained by a Iudex ? Why?” Blentyn asked, as he lifted Viro up, not without some difficulty.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. And you shouldn’t question it either; his time was less than mine was, so many years ago.”
“Yeah, I still think you let him off easy.” The child said, as he carried Viro off.
“The thing is, I didn’t” Mwhyll whispered to himself.
A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo
The next day, Viro woke once more in his tent, but this time he was alone. He tried to sit up in his cot, but fell down again with a sharp jolt of pain.
“Ugh, guess that training was as intense as I thought. Wonder what’s in store for me today.” Viro said to himself, as he slowly got up again, feeling his bruises. With a few grunts of pain, he got out of bed and stood up.
“Seems I have to go ask someone, maybe Desideratus will be outside.” He opened the tent flap and looked outside for the second time. The camp seemed to be the same as the day before, but with one large difference, everyone that was training yesterday was nowhere to be seen. Viro heard loud cheering and other noises from somewhere to his right. He left the tent and looked towards the sounds. An event seemed to be going on at the horse track.
“A race?” Viro asked himself.
“Not a race, a fight. 2 Coepi are fighting for the rank of Servus.” A voice Viro quickly recognized as Desideratus’ came from above him.
“Where are you?” Viro asked, looking up in the trees.
“Here.” Desideratus said, from directly in front of him.
“How did you-. Wait, never mind, I forgot how quick you were.”
“No, you were just distracted by where my voice came from, but that isn’t taught here, or by me. I will train you today, follow me.” Desideratus said, walking away from the makeshift arena.
“We cannot watch the fight?” Viro asked, as he walked beside the large Imperial man.
“No. Only higher ranks may watch, otherwise you might be able to study one opponent and win by a long conceived strategy. We want you to be able to win a fight like one you’d encounter in a mission.” Desideratus explained “Today you will not simply fight me. I will truly teach you during a…unique exercise.”
“And that is?” Viro asked
“This.” Desideratus said, arriving at a large boulder, situated at the outer edges of the camp. The only thing strange about the boulder is that it had 6 chains attached to it, each being less than a foot long and each had a ring of varying sizes.
“I’m going in that?” Viro asked, examining the chains.
“You are if you want to improve. Everyone has done this, the leader invented it.” Desideratus said “Go ahead and chain your ankles down, I’ll get your arms.”
“Can you tell me exactly what we’re doing first?”
“Nope. That’s one part of it. I will tell you, however, that it is time consuming.”
“Fine.” Viro said, restraining his limbs one by one, with Desideratus’ help. He ended up with both wrists and ankles chained, with one large ring around his waist, and one around his neck. “What could this possibly be for?”
“Well, the next part of the exercise requires Blentyn, and he’s late.”
“Who?” Viro asked.
“I believe you met him yesterday, I told him to get you up.”
“Oh, him. Yes, a nice boy, why is he in an organization like this?”
“We don’t usually have children in here, but he was born to it, so we allowed him to train with us from a young age. He is fairly strong and his rank is respectable as well.”
“What are the ranks?” Viro asked.
“Well, I won’t go into much detail, because I probably shouldn’t, but you at least deserve to know a few. Coepi, you, are raw recruits, initiates. They are most likely to be found here, and once they’re ready, they fight either one of their rank, or the rank above.”
“Which is?”
“Servus, a slave. We call them slaves because they are practically slaves to the organization. They are above new recruits, but they still don’t receive benefits or respect of a higher rank. I reckon you don’t need to know the others until you get a little closer to them. So, any other questions before we begin?”
“One, what language are the ranks in? They don’t sound normal.”
“Ah, they’re not. It’s an ancient dwemer language, considered the basis of language today. The leader thought it would be a good idea so outsiders and new recruits don’t know everything about us. A secret code, in a way, that can only be shared by those with intimate knowledge of it.”
“When can I learn it?” Viro asked, eagerly.
“Later. Perhaps when you are learning persuasion and politics in a sewer…” Desideratus said, smiling slightly, as if the vague phrase were a joke only he knew. “Well, we really must be starting.”
“And one of the rules was I don’t know what it is?”
“Yes.” Desideratus said, punching Viro in the stomach with his large fist and the full force of his muscular arm and body behind it.
“Agh! What was that?!” Viro shouted, gasping from the pain. Desideratus said nothing, and punched Viro again, this time in the chest.
“Ugh! Stop that! You said we weren’t fighting!” Desideratus struck Viro again, in the right shoulder. Viro’s eyes started to tear, and Desideratus quickly punched him in the face, making his tears fall to the ground.
The day continued on as such, for another hour. “You know the worst part? The rock makes my back hurt just as much as my front from the rock.” Viro said dully, blood flowing from his split lip. He was missing a tooth, and his shirt was torn from the repetitive blows. “Hey wait, didn’t you say Blentyn was coming?”
“He did, he is up in the tree in front of you, along with Mwhyll, watching us.” Desideratus said, striking Viro’s arm, already purple from bruising.
“Why?” Viro asked, the pain no longer even showing on his face as he was hit.
“Blentyn came because I asked him to; it is a part of the exercise. Mwhyll’s just here because I think he’s curious to see how you’d do.”
“Can I do poorly on this?” Viro asked, as Desideratus hit him again.
“Yes, you can show pain. Fortunately for you, that stopped after about 40 minutes. So, as the rules state, you are done soon. Blentyn will come down and tell us when.”
“How does he know?” Viro asked.
“He doesn’t. It’s up to him. The part of the time keeper is usually played by the closest friend the trainee has, but since you are so new, we figured Blentyn or Mwhyll would be the closest, after me.” Desideratus struck him again.
“Wouldn’t call anyone here a friend, exactly, but I can see why it was one of you three, being the only ones I’ve met after that tall elf.” Viro said, eying the tree Desideratus indicated. Suddenly, he saw a flash of movement. A small, wiry boy was coming down, leaping from branch to branch, gracefully as a cat. The funny part was, Viro could care less how long the exercise went for. Viro knew the exercise was to stop pain. Everything from not knowing what it was until you were hit to Desideratus’ silence pointed towards that.
‘What a harsh training,’ Viro thought ‘Oh yeah, I just did it.’ Viro would have been proud of such an accomplishment, but he couldn’t be.
“Done?” Desideratus asked the boy.
“Yes, he finished. Quite a good time too, didn’t even faint like last exercise.” Blentyn said with a small chuckle. With this Mwhyll dropped from the tree, with less grace than Blentyn, he simply fell to the ground straight from his high branch.
“You are full of surprises, Coepi. You seem to have potential, and if you can stay awake, we will go have a talk.” The Argonian said, with a hint of a smirk on his long, reptilian lips.
“Got it.” Viro said, struggling to do as the trainer said as he was unchained. Once all restraints were off, Viro started to fall to the ground. Mwhyll moved with the same speed Viro saw the day before and caught him in his arms. “Strange,” Viro said “My mind doesn’t feel tired, but my body can hardly move.”
“That’s to be expected. What trains the body makes it break down and then rejuvenate later. The brain doesn’t have the same problem, when it learns, it is only eager for more knowledge. Fortunately, we have magic for that.” Mwhyll said, helping Viro back onto his feet. “Do you know any? Restoration magic that is?”
“A little, but I was never very proficient at magic.” Viro said, as he struggled to maintain balance.
“Well, that is a problem; a good assassin must be knowledgeable in all forms of combat.” Desideratus said, in a tone that reminded Viro of a monk addressing a group of students. “Before we talk, you will learn basic restorative magic.”
“Okay.” Viro said, having finally steadied himself.
“Follow me; I’ll take you to Alumna. She’s the one to teach you magic like that.” Blentyn said, motioning back towards the main camp.
“Alright, let’s go. Are you sure it’s a good time for me to learn magic?” Viro asked while he walked beside Blentyn, leaving Desideratus and Mwhyll to talk.
“Yeah, the best time to learn magic that heals is when you’re hurt. It’s the same hurt you’d feel in a fight.” Blentyn stated as he walked with Viro back towards camp.
Once Blentyn and Viro were safely out of earshot, Desideratus asked Mwhyll “Can you believe the kinds of times he’s getting on his training? Now I see why the Night Mother invited him personally.”
“Yes, it is amazing. Perhaps he is the one Posterus prophesized…”