Sethyas, Before a Reborn General returned, there was a life... Options

[Black Hand]

Prologue

18th of Rain's Hand, Year 413 of the Third Era
Outskirts of the City of Daggerfall

A bluff overlooked the grey and white of the foaming waves far below. The sky matched its hue with a raging storm. The wind howled and blew as though it were trying to knock the two figures staring each other down over into the sea. One, dressed in dark brown leather armor with cloak and hood held a hand to his gut. Behind it, a patch of dark crimson stained the chestpiece barely visible. His cowl fell back amidst the blowing rage to reveal the face of a Dunmer. Taciturn in expression, his visage did not reveal the pain of the wound.

Swirling alongside the left of his face was a tattoo that marked his clan from Morrowind. Though, that was a lifetime ago, and then some. He was now in the employ of the Imperial Government through many strange twists of fate.

His red eyes gazed at the foe. A betrayer. Not just of him, but of his vows and purpose.

The Paladin's face could not be seen behind the helmet of polished steel and gold trim, but the Dunmer knew those hollow eyes all too well. Bereft of life and passion, he lived only by meaningless vows that died the moment the lips uttered them stopped flapping.

The Paladin held the sword that was stained with the blood of the Agent at it's tip, at a slight downward angle. His white tunic flapped in unison with the brown cloak of his adversary, like two birds of prey that encircled the other in battle.

"It's over, Lysander! Give me the Totem!" The voice cried from behind the metal.

"I thought I was the only one who was supposed to backstab." Lysander replied, coughing out some blood, he wiped his chin with his free hand.

"A necessary treachery, I am afraid. You would misuse this power. Give it to the highest bidder, or even worse: the Emperor's Blades." He said taking a step closer, speaking over the pelting rain, creating a dinging sound as it hit his armor.

"I am an Agent of the Emperor, yes. It is what I was sent to do, by he himself. You act now in defiance of those orders, Arkaydian Knight." He replied, trying to find some way out of this trap. "Besides, what makes you think your motives are any better?"

"Motives? I act upon the will of the Nine! This is needed to preserve Order! Surely you must see that much! The Numidium is a world-breaker! If that power was harnessed once again,...the end result would be..." The Paladin trailed off.

"Chaos? Change? The expression of lust for power that Man and Mer have waged upon themselves since time immemorial? What makes you think that you can stand in the way of that? Surely you do not see yourself in such grandiose terms that you can stop any of that." Lysander replied.

"Enough." The Knight of Arkay replied and closed the distance quickly, and came in for a blow raising his blade high.

The sword came down, and fell cleanly into the Dunmers neck, sending dark blood rushing forth into spurts rivuleting down his side.

The Knight could smell the blood from there, even over the rain now showering down. He could even feel the heat as it rolled down his neck.

The Paladin reached up and felt the ebony dagger that was jutting out of his neck, just between the bottom of his helmet and the top of his chestpiece. The damn Agent was still a sneaky one.

The fell to their knees in unison, and in that moment, the storm raged even harder, and the heavens seemed to crack open. The two looked at it in disbelief, unknowing of what had just happened. It seemed as though the world began to turn in on itself, and simultaneously devour and expel itself.

"What?!" The Knight labored to whisper over the weapon lodged in his throat.

The Dunmer was beginning to lose consciousness over the rapid loss of blood, but as he saw his own distant lands and history being drawn forth from the storm of sight, he began to understand.

"You broke the world, you damn fool." He returned. "The only law greater then people is the Earth Bones. Gravity, light, darkness. When you put your foolish code over people, you forgot what it was you were trying to protect. Now, your idea of 'perfect order' is a graveyard. Enjoy it." He said as he collapsed into his final moment.

That was the day the Dragon Broke.


Present Day

10th of Sun's Dusk, Year 398 of the Third Era
Imperial Palace, Province of Cyrodiil

She awoke with a start.

It was early morning, the dawn barely breaking through the pale curtains giving the room a soft glow. She rubbed her eyes, and stared at her image in the mirror. Her red hair was a long and lovely as when she had brushed it the night before. A source of uniqueness and pride for her, it was rare among the Dunmeri to have red hair as was, much more so to have hers.

Her crimson eyes nearly matched it's color, and smiled slightly as she brought her hand to her swollen belly. She was nearly ready to give birth. Unknowing of her state until three months after her dear husband, Lysander, had left on the Emperor's orders. She thought with both great anxiety and humor that he would return and find himself a Father.

"M'lady?" Came the voice from across her room. "Are you well?"

"I am. Just a bad dream,...perhaps." She replied, trying to recall what went through her mind just before she rose. She drew a blank, but...more then just a lack of memory. It was like a void, as though something were pulled from her mind.

She shook her head at the thought, and resolved to give the forbidden blessing to Vaermina the next time she was at temple.

The midwife came out of her cornered section of the room and rubbed her eyes as she took in the Dunmeri Maiden seated at her grooming table staring at her belly with a slight smile.

Madame Velas was one of the unique fixtures of the Court. Neither noble nor ambassador, she and Lysander were here at the pleasure and command of the Emperor himself. He afforded them luxuries and servants for an unknown reason, but the rumors that Lysander Velas; who was a Morrowind native as well as she, acted as a spy for the Emperor were also rampant.

Vivyne Velas herself was no noblewoman, and often took on the menial tasks into her own hands. Cooking, cleaning, and the like. She took all the luxuries granted her in stride, like she enjoyed a good book that she knew would someday end. Every time the midwife had attempted to broach that veil to the reason they were here, she just gave a sad smile and said that she could not say.

"Have you given any thought as to their names, yet?" The Midwife asked.

"It's bad luck in Morrowind to name a child not yet born." She replied with her now receding accent.

"In Cyrodiil, it's traditional. When in Elsweyr...." The Midwife replied.

Vivyne gave her a curious look as she considered it. "Well, I know how you Cyrod's will sometimes name them after a father or grandfather or such..." her eyes trailed off to the side.

"My Nans was named 'Setsuna' which means 'she who follows' in Dunmeri, meaning a follower of Saint Veloth." She mused.

"I see...it is a lovely name. What if it is a boy?" she asked, grabbing a pitcher of water and preparing them both a glass.

Vivyne traced her unseen parchment with her eyes again. "Dunmer and Cyrod's do share the tradition of males being the head of households and the women being married into their families, so I suppose it would be more appropriate to use my Husband's." She thought.

"What was his Father's name?" The midwife asked as she brought the pair of glasses to the table.

"He never knew his father, I am afraid. However, his...mentor, if you wish to call it that, was the closest thing he ever had to one." She spoke in a guarded tone.

"What was his name?" the Midwife asked, slightly mystified being this close to piercing their veil for the first time.

"Sethyas." she replied.


This post has been edited by Black Hand: Nov 4 2013, 04:01 AM

[Black Hand]

12th of Sun's Dawn, Year 400 of the Third Era
Imperial Palace, Province of Cyrodiil

Vivyne Velas picked up her children in either arm, and made her way to the local Imperial Gardens. A place she loved for it's idyllic surroundings and feeling of serenity despite the hustle and bustle of the city just outside the walls. Here she would update her letters and diurnal for when Lysander eventually returned to read them.

She was not privy to the Emperor's commands concerning her husband. She only knew that he was far away on a mission of utmost importance to him and she was to maintain her place here within the walls of the Palace. The last night they spent together most likely had been the cause of the family they now had, though he did not know it.

She arrived to the gardens and sat down upon the cool white marble bench, setting Setsuna and Sethyas down and they began to look around at the now familiar scents and sounds of the garden.

Before she could even untie the strap on her satchel a young Imperial man in a monk's robe came from a bend in the garden and began to kneel before her children offering a hand and smile as he looked with a particular interest at Sethyas' face.

"Who are you stranger?" She said with an immediate defensiveness, drawing her dagger and energies for fire to her off-hand.

"I'm sorry, Madame Velas. My name is Lucretius, I am an Adept within the Ancestor Moth Temple, training to read the Elder Scrolls. Perhaps you've heard of them?" He offered with that same smile.

The youth didn't seem to be much of a threat, slight frame and thin features made him seem slight, nothing she couldn't kill. However the fact that she knew his name and was acting with such familiarity towards her and her children only brought out her dagger and wrath completely.

"I warn you Lucretius, you overstep your boundaries with me. Depart now and I'll only report you to the guard, stay and I will do what I must to protect my family." She intoned deeply, stepping forward.

"I thought you might misinterpret my intentions. So I brought my own protection." He said barely moving and still staring at Sethyas.

With that a half-dozen armored guards stepped from behind their own hidden positions, swords and bows at the ready. Their armor was strange and colored in hues she'd never before seen within the palace. Their long, curved blades were of a make she's also never seen.

"You tattooed your son very recently, have you not?" Lucretius asked.

"How do you know that, and what do you want?" She demanded, looking warily at the men who seemed ready to cut her down.

"It was seen within an Elder Scroll. The destiny of this child is somehow tied in with the fate of Cyrodiil's future and that of Red Mountain." he replied.

"Morrowind? Yes, we're from there. We may yet return someday, but what does that have to do with bringing a small army to a Mother and her children?" She nearly screamed.

"We must take him, he will be cared for and brought up by us. Your natural objection to this is why they are here." He said.

"We are here at the Emperor's command! You cannot do this!" She cried.

"We serve the Emperor as well. We seek to safeguard the future of the Empire as surely as you seek to safeguard your children. But they are the key to a larger picture." The Moth Priest replied picking them up.

Vivyne stood there shocked. She wanted to burn this man alive and would do so if he hadn't turned her own children into hostages or feared that the arrows of these men would further endanger them. Setsuna and Sethyas began to cry aloud and reach for their mother. Lucretius offered them reassuring noises as he disappeared behind a bend in the path of plants.

Her anger rose to levels she had never known. She had been angry many times, in varying levels. This was something else entirely. She lost all sense of reason, she lost all sense of self. Her name did not exist, she no longer existed in that moment.

Two of the men came forward to restrain her, and they were enveloped in a wall of flame immediately. They had no time to react. If there were screams, their breath was forced out by the intense heat before they could have been made.

Heavy armor was great for providing protection against large weapons, but the bands of metal that encased their bodies converted it into a large oven that roasted them alive.

Two arrows slipped from their bows, more from sudden fright then skill. The projectiles became wicks of flame that fell as ash before they reached anything remotely vital. From behind that wall of flame leaped a new fire. A shriek that could pierce the very soul emanated from this figure, hair as red as the setting sun. Eyes glowed from the shadow and contraction of pure rage that spoke only of death. She and her dagger landed on the left archer, she arose an instant later and the man was already dead.

The second archer soiled himself as she seconded her prior scream and he slammed against the wall with a force he'd never experienced. His primal fear gave way to the fading sensation of death as another wet feeling drew down his neck.

They collapsed into a heap together as he felt two points of metal slam against his chestpiece and he looked down at what he recognized as the tips of the Akaviri katanas his order were issued. They protruded through the woman's dress and he looked further up, and saw the other two Blades with grim looks on their faces standing behind her.

We killed her. Gods damn us. We killed her. Was his last thought as he felt her weight slam down onto him.


This post has been edited by Black Hand: Nov 4 2013, 04:03 AM