Phoenix: Rise of a Legend, Breeva's life in Cyrodiil Options

[Diamandis]

HI! Here is my second attempt at starting my OBLIVION fanfic! I changed the format, as before the plan was to do a sort of story within a story format, but I couldn't get it to work.

But here it is!

This is the tale of Breeva, a fifteen year old Dunmer and Dark Brotherhood assassin. The story follows her life as she struggles with adolescence as she tries to find a place in the world.

She has a dark beginning, but I hope you like her story

Now, I'm not too familiar with a huge amount of Lore, but i'm gradually learning as I play the game and read other stories, so the story is literally how I perceive the game to be. Until I get more of a grip on lore, anyway.

A warning: the prologue does contain very... graphic imagery of gore, but don't let this put you off. The rest of the story wont be as gory!

This post has been edited by Eva: Mar 3 2013, 08:15 PM

[Diamandis]

VOLUME ONE: BLOODY BEGINNINGS

Prologue

I can still remember the day so clearly; the day I killed for the first time.

I can remember the feel of freshly cut blood oozing from my fingertips… but it wasn’t my blood.

You always remember your first kill. Some people kill for pleasure, some in an act of desperate passion.

Me? I did it because the dirty, lowlife deserved to have his throat slit.

I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment then I shuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night. I remember to subtle adrenaline I felt when I slipped my dagger from my belt. I remember the
quiet rage I felt toward the man as I plunged the dagger into his throat as he slept.

I remained silent for a time, staring coldly at the lowlife as he gasped for air like a fish out of water. I sat, locking my eyes with his as I watched the blood fall from his wound as he took his final breath.

Silence overcame me. I must have been sat for an hour before I made any form of movement.

Although he deserved to die, I couldn’t help but feel guilty somehow. But why?

Maybe it wasn’t the act itself that brought my guilt; but the fact that I was now officially a killer.

Only fourteen years old and I now knew how it felt to take a life.

… So I remained on the floor, leaning against the wall; every inch of me covered in the blood the sprayed from my victims throat.

I wiped the blood from my mouth, opening it slowly to catch a small breath of air.

Suddenly, in that single moment, what I had done had sunk in.

But I wasn’t sad, nor was I overcome with desperate emotion. I was proud.

I’d rid Nirn of an awful man who didn’t deserve the life he had been given.

Thinking that, I got on my hands and knees as I slowly began to crawl toward the man.

When I was face to face with him I felt his empty eyes judge me; which was ridiculous. Dead people can’t have opinions.

I shook off the thought, the reach out to close the man’s eyes. He couldn’t stare any longer.

I gently ripped the Nightshade from my hair and placed it on his cold corpse.

I’d had my revenge now… but It didn’t feel like it was enough. I needed more. Had I gained a thirst for killing?

I wasn’t sure.

Then he came.

I suddenly felt a cold chill in the air. I turned to see a hooded stranger wearing a long, black robe stood behind me.

His gaze was intense; but his smile seemed loving.

“How did it feel?” He asked me.

I didn’t say a word, simply looked back at my victim.

“He deserved it Breeva, after everything he did to you.” The man proclaimed.

I felt confused, so I turned to look at the stranger, “How do you know what he did to me?”

The stranger smirked mischievously, “This day has been foreseen, Breeva. Sithis has seen your path.”

“Sithis?” I asked.

The stranger smiled again, this time offering a hand, “Come with me, Breeva. We have much to discuss.”

I slapped his hand away from me, standing up, “NO! Get away from me!” I screamed.

The stranger said nothing, yet he refused to budge.

I gave him a curious, yet nervous look, “Who are you?”

The man didn't answer immediately… it was almost as if he wanted me to feel his revelation. A dark sense of dread… but also a sense of familial comfort.

“My name is Lucien Lachance. I am with the Dark brotherhood; and I am here to take you home.” He revealed.

“…but… I am home…” I whispered pitifully.

“There is clearly nothing left for you here. Your mother is dead… and you’ve made certain that your father followed in her footsteps.”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER THAT WAY!” I growled, before turning more kittenish, “You know nothing about my mother. She was a good woman.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Lucian responding in a deadpan manner. “But the point I’m making is clear.”

I folded my arms, almost trying to protect my soul from becoming filled with more evil than it had already been infused with.

“I can offer you a better life,” Lucien continued, “A family. People to love you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“There are people waiting. They know you’re coming, and they’re waiting to welcome you with open arms.”

I thought about what he said for a moment,”… really?”

Lucien replied with a gentle nod.

I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but there was one thing I was sure of. There was nothing left for me in this life anymore.

I was alone.

But maybe… just maybe, if I went with Lucien and accepted his offer, I wouldn’t be alone all by myself…

This post has been edited by Eva: Feb 28 2013, 11:17 PM