Chapter Text
Tam had failed his Lady. He knew that. He’d let the Dark Avatar’s construct, or whatever it (he? did constructs of the dark have pronouns?) was, get the better of him. And so he was laying on a cot in their infirmary, Septim Priora keeping him under observation for the time being. He felt well enough to get up now, though still in somewhat less than optimal condition, but she didn’t seem to agree.
The Lady had begun returning to his mind already regardless, despite what Septim Priora thought.
The mission was more important than the opinions of any of the Septrenn - though the Lady had entrusted them with her powers, they were not in direct communication with her as frequently as he, not instruments to do her bidding or extensions of her will.
She had chosen him as her champion, and he would not let her down.
He’d given the others the Dark Avatar’s name, which the Avatar had so unwisely shared. Now the paladins knew everything about him that might prove useful to the mission. Erin Ruunaser. Nineteen years old, the Elemental Magus. Trained as a mage at the Academy of Asera, though he hadn’t yet finished his education, having elected to extend his time at the Academy by taking some time off to pursue a research trip into the Storm of Magic. Now, if Tam or any of the other paladins succeeded in doing the Lady’s bidding and protecting the world from the Dark Dragon, his education would be left forever unfinished.
He had fallen for the trap the Dark Dragon had set, all those eons ago, fallen to his own foolish confidence in his ability, and now he would pay the price. It would be a mercy - no matter how in control the Dark Avatar believed himself to be, he would fall to his new master’s will in the end. No mortal mind could withstand the force of a primordial’s might.
Tam allowed himself the briefest moment of pity for the Magus, who now had to die to set things right. Perhaps if he had known what awaited him in the center of the Storm, he would not have been so easily led by arrogant notions of discovering its workings. Or perhaps his stubborn hubris would’ve won out all the same. It was most likely the latter. Paladin historical records showed that Elemental Magi tended to overestimate what they could handle - some had come dangerously close to springing the trap before they had been stopped. A shame to lose a life, but that was the price of protecting the world, and Tam would see it paid.
He just had to find the Dark Avatar first… and to get out of this Lady-cursed bed.
Tam pushed himself up to sitting, ignoring the aches and pains still scattered across his body. Trivial concerns, when time was of the essence. For all the paladins knew, the Dark Avatar was already close to an entrance to the Singing Caves.
He was wounded, though. Tam knew he’d weakened the Dark Avatar in their encounter. If he could just get him alone, this would all be over, and he’d be able to apologize to the family. But if that strange, lightless swordsman was there… well. Tam would just have to be careful.
MY CHAMPION, the Lady said in his mind. YOU HAVE NOT YET REGAINED SUFFICIENT STRENGTH TO FACE THE DARK AVATAR DIRECTLY. THE BEARER OF MY HORNS IS CURRENTLY ON HIS TRAIL WITH A SQUADRON.
But have they found him? Tam replied. Do they need my assistance?
YOU ARE NOT CURRENTLY NEEDED, MY CHAMPION. YOU HAVE GIVEN THE OTHERS THE AVATAR’S NAME. YOU MAY REST AND RECOVER NOW.
Tam reluctantly lay back down. He didn’t want to rest and recover. He wanted to see this over, to end the Dark Avatar’s life and set the Dark Dragon back eons further. But his loyalty to the Lady was absolute. He was her champion, and if she wished him to rest, then he would do so.
Despite not wanting to rest, and his concerns about the Dark Avatar, it didn’t take long for Tam’s mind to fade into sleep once more.
When he next awoke, the squadron had returned, with news both good and bad.
Bad: the Magus had somehow escaped, and the spellbirds had stopped working. They’d known he must be underwater, but Rakhn had erupted, and they’d been forced to flee without tracking down the Magus. (Tam couldn’t help but grit his teeth, wondering what would’ve happened if he’d just been there.)
Good: they had a hostage. It was the swordsman who’d thwarted Tam on the boat. And without him present, the Magus would be defenseless once Tam found him again. Tam felt well enough to get up, and better than the prior time he’d tried, though not back to full strength yet. It didn’t matter. He would likely be in better condition than the Dark Avatar.
He just had to find him.
But the spellbirds still weren’t working, and the prisoner wasn’t talking (Tam knew he wouldn’t - he was too loyal, misplaced as it was, to his dark master), and the Lady couldn’t see into his lightless mind. Tam would have to take a different approach.
If he could just figure out where the Magus had been going, he could track him there and ambush him before he had a chance to succeed in carrying out the Dark Dragon’s wicked designs.
The Magus had taken a boat. Surely the harbor kept a record of intended destinations. If he discovered where the boat had left from, then he would know where to look. There could only be so many possible locations the Magus could’ve launched from. That would be a low-stakes mission, one even Septim Priora wouldn’t object to him taking on. And, if she - or the Lady insisted - he could take backup. And he could take a dragon-drawn ship, rather than attempting to rely on his own wingpower. He was still not recovered enough to trust his Lady-given wings just yet.
Tam got decisively out of bed and began to look at maps. He found the most likely launching point for the Magus within minutes - Argist, a small harbor town known for seafaring. If the Magus had been after a boat, which he clearly had been, that’s where he would’ve gone.
Got you, Tam thought with a faint edge of satisfaction.
Now, to take a trip over there and ask around…
If someone had asked Tarren what they expected their day to contain, they would never in a million years have answered “interrogation by a fringe religious sect.” And yet there they were, seated opposite a seemingly high-ranking paladin who reminded them somehow of Erin, if Erin had his coloration swapped out and features tweaked.
A paladin who had supposedly encountered their ship in the wild and found it so interesting that he just had to track its origins back to Argist and ask the Harbormaster about it. The Harbormaster had, naturally, pointed the paladin right to Tarren, and they were feeling rather annoyed about that fact at the moment. This whole situation was making them uneasy, particularly the way that not only was the paladin’s story deeply suspicious (perhaps it wouldn’t have been so under normal circumstances, but Tarren kept remembering the barely-disguised exhaustion in Erin’s face, and it was triggering quiet alarm bells for reasons they couldn’t currently articulate), but his “request” for a private interview hadn’t felt very optional. The two masked lackeys that flanked him, though not very closely, certainly didn’t help.
He hadn’t even given Tarren his name, though he clearly knew theirs, and that was just another item to add to the list of things they disliked about this situation. It was turning out to be a long list.
After a few cursory questions to confirm that Tarren was really the one who had been behind the design of the boat, which they didn’t even try to deny, the paladin finally cut to the chase.
“We just want to know one thing, and then we can be on our way,” he said. “Where was the Elemental Magus headed?”
And there it was. The paladins wanted to know where Erin was going badly enough to track down the person who’d lent him a boat? For them to ask such a question… Oh, Erin, Tarren thought, worried but not entirely surprised. What have you gotten yourself into now?
Of course he’d gotten in over his head. They’d known, hadn’t they? It had been clear the moment he didn’t brag about what he’d been up to. And before he’d rallied and made a properly confident-sounding remark, for a moment, he’d looked almost worried.
To get on the bad side of a superstitious cult… was it something to do with the storm’s disappearance? Tarren couldn’t think of what could’ve gotten the paladins so fired up. But they knew they couldn’t betray Erin to these maniacs.
“I have no idea,” they lied. “Do you think the great Elemental Magus confides in a mere classmate? I just wanted him to test the boat prototype I made and bring it back.” The paladin’s expression twitched slightly. Ah. “I don’t suppose I’ll be getting it back, then?” they asked dryly. Ruunaser had better have taken lots of notes.
“I’m afraid the boat was collateral damage,” the paladin said.
Of course it was. Well, they’d known it was a risk… though they hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon, and they certainly hadn’t expected a cult to show up and question them about it. “Ah well,” they sighed, trying to sound a bit less worried than they were. “That’s what tests are for. Is there any other reason you’re bothering an innocent inventor, or…?”
Tarren thought their unspoken message was rather clear: I’m not telling you anything, get out of here. Apparently, the paladin didn’t notice - or, if he did, he didn’t care. “Are you sure you don’t know where the Magus was headed? He didn’t mention anything at all?”
Well, it was too late for Tarren to give a false clue - they’d already said they didn’t remember anything, and to contradict that now would be deeply suspicious. Plus, their mind had gone blank, and they weren’t that good an actor. “I’m sure,” they said. “Now, if we’re finished here–”
The paladin interrupted, something about his eyes making Tarren uneasy. “...would you say the Magus cares about you?”
Tarren suppressed a nervous laugh, the unease spiking. That was not a good sign. Very much not a good sign. “What?”
“The Magus. Would you say he cares about you?”
Yes. Though perhaps not quite as much as I care about him. “Why would he? We just went to the same school.”
“He trusted you enough to use a form of transportation you constructed.”
“Everyone from that school knows I’m good at engineering. It doesn’t mean he cares about me.”
“But he knows you’re useful,” the paladin pressed.
Tarren really didn’t like where this was going, feeling more and more cornered by the second. "No more than any other Academy-trained mage with a specialty in engineering.” That was a lie. Tarren was notably talented in their field, particularly for someone who was still technically a student.
The paladin looked unconvinced. “You were the one he went to.”
“Just because I happened to be here! It was a coincidence.” It really had been. Whether or not the paladin believed it…
“You’re sure you don’t know where he was going?”
“Why would I lie?”
The paladin’s next words were layered strangely. “A misguided attempt to protect him. Why would you lend an original prototype to someone if you didn’t know where he was going?”
Tarren wasn’t sure how the layering of that voice made them feel, but they knew it was some flavor of strange. “Scientific curiosity,” they managed to answer, after a moment. “And it’s not like others were lining up to test it. The Magus takes good research notes.”
“Your loyalty to him runs deep. It’s not your fault you’ve fallen under his spell. He can be very… persuasive.”
Tarren blinked for a few seconds, feeling like they no longer understood what conversation was being had here. “What?”
“We can help you,” the paladin said, phrasing it like an act of benevolence rather than utter nonsensical lunacy. “You are innocent. He doesn’t have to drag you down with him.”
The creeping dread that had been building began to spike. “What are you saying?” If this cultist tried to brainwash them, they were going to have very strong words with Ruunaser later - though not because the cult brainwashing would succeed (it wouldn’t).
“We’re asking you to come with us.” Gods fucking damn it.
“...and if I say no?”
“Forgive us, but it’s not a request.”
The paladin had hold of their sealed wrist before they could even try to reach for the tattoo and cast in self-defense. And there’s the drawback of no longer being able to cast free-handed. They couldn’t stand up safely with their wrist in the paladin’s grasp, either. They tried to swing at him with the crutch of their free arm for the sake of resistance, no longer caring that they were outnumbered and currently thoroughly disadvantaged in every conceivable sense, but it was deflected easily. The next thing they knew, that wrist was immobilized as well.
The paladin had them aboard a sky-ship attached to a dragon almost before they could blink, and then they were in the air, headed off to who-knows-where with no way to alert the people of Argist (if they would even care) to the abduction occurring under their noses, or to warn Erin to stay away. If the paladins would go this far for someone Erin wasn’t even in consistent contact with, then he must be in terrible danger.
Kidnapped by a religious cult because of Erin Ruunaser… what has my life come to?