The Dark Brotherhood: A Listener's Tale, The tale of what it takes to become the merciless Listener of the Dark Options

[allshallfade]

This is a fanfiction that I started over a year ago as of last month, and it is something that I am still working on today. It's basically the storyline of the Dark Brotherhood, told from the point of view of a cold-hearted woman who enjoys nothing more then to kill. I know that the plot is not original, but I feel that the character's thoughts and emotions, along with her interaction with other character's, sets it apart from the blandness of the plot. Anyways, I know it's long, but please, just bare with me!

If you read and review, I can't thank you enough- it really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The Old Woman and the Cottage

I killed the old woman. I don’t know what made me do it; I still can’t understand it to this day. I suppose that this is where my tale starts; where my life gets interesting. Oh boy, does it get interesting. And I don’t generally mean that in a good way. You’ll see. I had been hunting down up North, by the Nordic-fashioned city of Bruma, when I felt a presence nearby. I guess you could call it a sixth sense. I crouched down, bow in hand, and slowly crept over a small hill. When I reached the top, I saw a little cottage nestled in the mountains, with a patch of flat land serving as a single person farm. An old woman was there, working in the farm, raking down new rows for what looked like fresh potato plants.

How could I know then that this house would be the location of so much pain and misery in my future? Looking back, I wished that I had simply turned around and never glanced back. However, my instinctual curiosity, useful in so many aspects of my life, was my downfall here. I sat to watch the woman, mystified, as I hadn’t seen a human, elf, or beast race for nearly a week. I had become a rather solitary being, making my living off of the land, sleeping where I felt it was safe enough, whether it be cave or slab of rock.

Squinting against the setting sun, I saw the woman’s graying hair and wrinkling face, her movements obviously displaying the aching and grinding of her old bones. After a moment of her work, she straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun with a callused hand. She must have decided that it was enough for the day, as she collected her supplies and headed toward her thatched-roof cottage in the slow, shuffling, achy pace of the elderly.

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kill the woman, to drive my dagger into her flesh. I felt a sudden…rage at her, such inexplicable anger that I needed to act upon. I’m not sure if my fury was against her, or against the world. But at that moment, all the feeling I had in me was focused on her. I have had such urges before, to strike, to kill, but always in public, surrounded by many. My impulses had always been controlled by necessity. Now, however, I was in the middle of nowhere. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t stop myself.

And before I knew what was happening, everything around me became silent. Time seemed to slow as my senses were heightened. Her breathing was a slow, rhythmic rasping in my ears, and an eternity seemed to take place in the dull thudding of two of her footsteps. I started to feel faint as I tried to control the desire to stop the noise of her footsteps, to eternally end the sound of her breath. I was fighting a loosing battle. After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality were seconds, I had put my bow on my back and was reaching for my dagger.

The sound of my dagger sliding out of its sheath was intoxicating; it made my lust for the kill even stronger. I started to creep toward her, my worn leather boots padded against the ground as I silently trod upon leaves and twigs. As I grew closer to the woman, my pace increased, until I was nearly sprinting at her on bent legs. My heartbeat was like a war drum, pounding out a fast steady beat, making my head felt like it was going to explode any second. It was overwhelming; I had to end it. When I was within yards of the old woman, I stood straight, getting into a full-out sprint at her.

She didn’t hear me until I plunged my dagger into her back. With a choking gasp, she spun about to face me, her eyes meeting mine. I saw them fill with a fleeting look of surprise, before quickly turning to one of intense pain and fear. However, her pain did not last long, as I leaned behind her and yanked my dagger out of her back, and slitting her throat in one smooth motion.

She crumbled to the floor on her very own doorstep, breathed her last gasping, gurgling breath, and became eternally still. I stood over the dead body for a moment, panting slightly. Once my heart rate had started to slow, and my senses seemed to return to normal, the reality of what I had just done crashed into me, physically staggering me.

My eyes widened, and I slumped against the side of the cottage. I still held my dagger, glistening in the fading light. It was smeared with a line of blood, dripping noiselessly to the ground, joining the pool of red liquid forming steadily at my feet. Staring at her motionless body, I felt a strong mix of emotions. First, I felt disgust in myself, but I also felt an almost disturbing sense of pride, and…fulfillment. My desire for blood had been filled; the desire I had held back for so long. I had killed livestock and beast for food, but this was different. This was…murder. However, as quickly as it had come, the disgust started to ebb away, and a small smile formed on my face as I stood up straight again.

At that moment, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck; a feeling that someone was watching me, that someone had seen what I had done. I whipped around, dagger at the ready, but saw nothing. The sun was nearly lost behind the mountains to the West, but there was still enough light for me to see the landscape around me in detail. I shuffled in full circle, but could pick out no one in the surrounding forest. Even so, I still could not loose the feeling of being watched, so I kept my dagger and bow at easy access.

Casting one last suspicious look into the immediate area, I turned back toward the body. As I looked at her corpse again, I felt another overwhelming feeling of disgust, but this time not at what I had done- now at the fact that I didn’t feel any remorse for my actions; no pity for the defenseless old woman. I wanted to- I genuinely wanted to feel bad, to feel guilty. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t. Sighing, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of my mind, I squatted down and started to search her for valuables.

I found about 4 gold, which was quite a sum to me at that time, and a letter to some gift-giving service listing the locations of all of her kids. I pocketed the list, not really sure why. I also found the key to her cottage. I looked back up at the sky, finding that the sun had almost disappeared, so I decided to spend the night in her house. I dragged her body into the tall grass surrounding the home before slipping the key into the lock and opening the cottage door.

Upon entering, I found that the old woman (Perennia Draconis, according to the letter) had a dog when it started barking incessantly, but it seemed as ancient as she had been. I tossed it some old boar meat from my pack, and he eagerly started gnawing at it, completely forgetting my presence. I quickly scanned the interior, looking for valuables, but not finding much. According to the sign over the mantle, the place was called “Applewatch”.

My stomach growled, so I looked into my pack and pulled out some venison and various vegetables I had stored for my trip. I cooked them in the fire place, petting the content dog while stoking the fire. Looking back, I didn’t even feel uneasy spending such a pleasant time in the home of the woman I had just mercilessly slain. My thoughts at the time were only of the food I was cooking. After my meal, I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me, so I stripped out of my leather greaves, boots and cuirass and pulled on a long coarse shirt to sleep in. I slipped my dagger under my pillow, placed my quiver and bow on the bedside table, and slid into the warm recesses of the covers. It was extremely comfortable, compared to my recent sleeping arrangements, which had consisted of rock slabs and leaf piles. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I was woken not four hours later when my blood seemed to turn to ice, the air still and silent. In one fluid movement I had sat bolt upright and pulled my dagger out from under my pillow, holding it menacingly out into the dark room. I sat there, panting for second, trying to peer through the complete darkness, when a deep, sinister voice spoke to my right.

“You sleep rather soundly for murderer. That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.”

I leapt to the left, pulling the covers off the bed as I swung my dagger wildly into midair, attempting to defend myself. I pressed my back against the wall, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Across the bed I saw a man, clothed and hooded in the darkest black. His deep brown eyes were studying, assessing every move I made, always calculating. He seemed to be almost…amused at my reaction. His lips were curled up ever so slightly at the corners, and his intense eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Who-who are you?” I demanded, mentally assessing my options. Listen to him talk, charge and attack, or run. Talking seemed to be the most favorable of my options; he looked quite skilled with a blade, and his athletic form could be seen even through his robes and the way he moved; he could probably outrun me. Besides, I wanted to see what he had to say. He was…intriguing.

“I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother. And so, I come to you with an offer. An opportunity to join our rather…unique family.”

I had no idea what to say. How did he know I had murdered the woman? And how had he known so quickly? Could he have been the presence I sensed after her death? But how had he known I was going to kill her? And what- My internal bombarding of questions was cut off as he continued, looking at me in a way that seemed to convey that he knew exactly what my thoughts were.

“So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely. On the Green Road to the North of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. He is an old man, his body frail, and he sleeps his days away. You could kill him before he woke, if you so chose. In whatever way you choose, kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family.”

I thought about his last statement, and some of the possible implications one could interpret from it, and was suddenly extremely aware of the shortness of my shirt, and how much my legs were showing. I colored slightly, embarrassed at my own thoughts, which were most likely completely unfounded. He continued on, seemingly undeterred by my silence.

“Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he said with his slight smile, handing me a gold-decorated dagger.

‘The Blade of Woe’ was inscribed on its gold and black hilt. I stood digesting this

for a moment, before I looked him in the eye and said questioningly:

“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are a family, with bonds forged in blood… and death.”

Deep in the recesses of my mind I found a distant memory; of my early teen years, working at the linen shop with my aunt. The daily routine involved scrubbing fabric clean in the back room, while gossiping with the fellow workers. I remember my aunt leaning conspiratively over her scrub board, eyes wide and her voice fearful:

“They say that when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood visits you in your sleep. It’s how they recruit new members.”

The understanding must have shown on my face, for he nodded briskly and said:

“Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon.” And with one last lingering look, in which he took in my scantly dressed form with a slightly raised eyebrow and an amused gleam in his eye, Lucien Lachance vanished. Literally. The door to the cottage opened and closed, seemingly on its own accord, and a cold draft sweeping into the room. The sounds of night filled the room, embracing me.

I stood for a moment, perhaps more, rigid in astonishment. I realized now that I had often heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but these were always tales of evil and heartless murder. And I had just been asked to join them. To ‘join their family’, as Lachance had put it. Did that make me evil? Was I evil? I thought of the body lying cold outside in the tall grass, and still didn’t feel a pang of shame or guilt. I realized that I was just that; a cold, heartless murderer. Maybe not evil, but I was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn’t ready to admit myself as evil. Not yet.

When Lachance had spoken of them, he made the Brotherhood sound like they were…close. A family. A loving family of cold-blooded assassins. The idea seemed so preposterous that I almost laughed out loud. My first inclination was to forget the whole prospect- to never even go near the Inn of Ill Omen. Best to disregard the whole thing. But as I lowered myself back onto the bed, picking up the comforter and pulling it over my body, I couldn’t stop replaying Lucien’s words in my thoughts.

For my whole life I had felt almost overpowering urges to kill, to murder. But I had always resisted, always controlled myself. At sometimes I had barely contained myself, but I had never given in. Until now. Since my desires did not seem to be shared by any I knew, I had always considered myself a freak of nature, a one of a kind outcast. I felt that my only option was to just conform to fit in with society. But now it seemed that there were others like me; those who embraced their gifts for murder. And these people wanted to accept me as one of their own.

And what about this ‘Speaker’, this Lucien Lachance? The way he spoke of murder- he seemed to feel the same way that I had felt about killing the old woman. It was…intoxicating. I had not even accepted his offer, yet he was already treating me as family. No one had ever treated me like that, not since my aunt died when I was young. Part of me wanted to see this “Lucien Lachance” again…in the short time I had met him he had made an impression.

Maybe I would just go and check out the Inn, to see what was there. Just to see where the man lived, I thought to myself. The rest of the night continued in the same fashion, with internal arguments and self-objections. Finally, after a sleepless and thought filled night, I set out at dawn for the Inn, fill of determination and purpose. I was going to kill that man. I was going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Two: The Old Man and the Inn

The journey was shorter than it should have been; I was so invigorated that I hardly slept at all, and only when it was completely necessary-like when I was practically tripping over my feet. My rising anticipation was almost unbearable; when I saw an Imperial Legion Officer who politely saluted me on the road, all I wanted to do was impale his skull with an arrow. But instead I smiled amiably back and walked on, hands clenched on my dagger. In my mind I still imagined the satisfying thunk of the arrow piercing his skull.

When I neared the Inn, I found that there was another one just down the road. I decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to go stay in the Ill Omen, so I headed toward the other one, “The Faregyl Inn” it was called, if memory serves. I decided to buy a room for the night- 10 gold out the window. I barely had enough, but I figured that I would be getting some gold soon, providing all went well. I paid the Khagiit, gave her a (totally fake) friendly smile, and headed up into the room.

It was small, but comfortable and homey. I gave a valiant attempt at sleep, but all I did was inspect the inside of my eyelids for a couple of hours. I kept looking anxiously outside to see if it was dark yet. After what seemed days, but was only a couple of hours, I decided that it was time to prepare. My plan was to leave the Inn without being seen, get into the Inn of Ill Omen also without being seen, kill the Rufio silently and without being seen, and leave, guess what, without being seen.

My plan called for a lot of discretion, so I pulled on my dark green shirt and black pants. I chose my soft leather shoes, hoping they would make my steps quieter. I tied a black leather belt around my waist and slipped the dagger that Lachance had given me into its sheath, which I attached to the belt. Next, I slipped my quiver over my shoulders and tightened the leather straps- I didn’t want it to slip off if I had to make a fast exit. Then I slipped my bow into its slot on my quiver. I debated bringing my long sword, but decided that it was too cumbersome to carry along, so it was left it behind. I also slipped some vials of poison that I had concocted last week for hunting deer and wolf. I wasn’t sure what the effects on humans would be, but I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be positive.

I opened the door to my room a crack and looked out into the upstairs hallway. It was deserted, and seemed quiet downstairs. Sliding into the hallway, I closed my door silently behind me and crept down the first flight of stairs. I peered through the opening in the chimney that held the stove and could see that the Inn owner was asleep on a bed roll by the counter. There was no one else in the room, except for a drunken Legion officer lying asleep at a table, face in his mug, snoring loudly.

I crept quietly as I could towards the exit, avoiding a bowl of strawberries that had been knocked over earlier. Opening the door, I winced each time it creaked, praying that no one would wake. When I finally got out I paused, soaking in the midnight air. It was a quiet, cloudless night, and all around me was shrouded in shadow, the trees swaying in the cool breeze, the crickets chirping quietly in the background. I stood still, breathing in the night air, savoring it. The cool night air invigorated me; it always had. I smiled slightly, and moved on.

Making my way quickly but silently up the road, I made sure to keep checking for Legion officers and any other travelers out late. Luckily I found no one- the threat of Daedra was keeping most in their homes in terror. However, when I got closer to the Inn of Ill Omen, I heard the sound of arrows being notched and shot at a target. I headed up over the hill in the forest surrounding the Inn and found, to my dismay, an Imperial Forester shooting arrows at a hay target by the left side of the entrance. He was a little too close to the Inn door for my comfort, but I wasn’t sure if I could kill him quickly enough without his alerting anyone nearby…Guards were tricky that way.

After watching for another moment, I weighed my chances and decided to take him out. I didn’t want anyone to see me enter or exit the inn, and I didn’t think I could sneak past him. He was too close to the door, and a guard was the last possible type of person I wanted to see me near the scene of an about to be committed murder. The adrenaline started to coarse through me again at my decision; I pulled out the dagger in my belt and dipped it into the vial of poison, slowly making my way down the hill, grimacing every time I made a sound in the deep grass. The Imperial Forrester was still absorbed in his archery practice, oblivious to my movements behind him. I pulled closer and closer, speeding up as I hit the dirt path in front of the Inn. I was about 10 feet from him when I my right foot kicked a rock that tumbled right towards the forester. My blood ran cold as the rock hit the back of his boot.

Time seemed to slow even further as he started to turn. All I had was pure instinctual reaction; I held up my dagger and sprinted at him, my each footfall feeling light and nimble. As he turned to face me, dropping his bow and drawing his sword, I slashed my dagger across his chest. I didn’t make too deep a wound, but it was enough to stagger him. He gave a surprised grunt of pain, staggering back slightly, the sword going limp in his had. I think I was so surprised to have made contact that I was momentarily stunned, as I fell back as well. He recovered quicker than I did and lunged forward at me, using my surprise to his advantage. I swung my dagger up in a desperate attempt to block the strike- I knocked his sword aside, but was pushed back a couple of steps from the force of the attack. He found his grip on the sword again, but this time I was ready. I sprung forward, slashing underneath the raised sword, slicing deep into his stomach. He dropped his sword, wrapping his arms around his gut. I watched as his insides literally tumbling out before my eyes.

Falling to his knees, gasping painfully for breath, the Imperial Forrester tried desperately to hold his innards in his stomach with two bloody, trembling hands. I stood over him, chest heaving with each breath I took. And as I stood there, he looked up into my eyes with a look full of pain, and what seemed to be fear; I could sense that he was not ready to die, not ready to face what someday we must all face. His gaze held mine, right up until the moment the light left his eyes, and he collapsed face forward on the ground. It was déjà vu to the woman; I felt the same feeling of disgust in myself, but it was becoming less intense. The feeling of fulfillment, of malicious and sadistic glee, was becoming more prominent.

I gained my senses quickly enough, and realized that I had to hide the body before anyone came out to investigate the noise; the first part of my plan hadn’t been completed as silently as I had hoped.

Grabbing him underneath the shoulders, I tugged his body around to the side of the Inn, where I opened the grate of the well. Panting from the effort, I lifted the corpse over the ledge of well, and shoved. After hearing a satisfying distant splash, I quickly turned and jogged to the front. I replaced my iron bow with his silver, stuck his remaining arrows into my quiver, and chucked his long sword into the forest. As an afterthought, I kicked up some dust to try and cover the blood stains. I was wiping the layer of sweat that had formed on my forehead when the front door of the Inn creaked open.

In a flash, I darted into the shadows along the side of the building, flattening myself against the wall, my heart pounding a fast, steady beat. A Nord walked out, whistling tunelessly to himself. He stopped when he had gone about ten feet from the entrance, and turned about, as though searching.

“Patric? Where the hell didya go?” he said, his voice sounding slightly amused. I realized that he must be the barman due to the dirty rag in his back pocket and his beer stained shirt. The only other reason his shirt would be covered in alcohol would have been if he was drunk, but he certainly wasn’t.

“Patric! You’ve been slacking off again, haven’t you, you dirty little cheat! Ordered to guard the inn, but always running off, you sweet talking brown noser!” the rest of what he said dissolved into incoherent mumbling and grumbling.

He trudged a little further down the walk, still mumbling, and I decided I would take my chances and try to sneak inside while he was out. Keeping my back against the wall, I slid toward the door, opening it quickly but as quietly as I could manage. I was blessed with the fact that it was empty, probably due to the lateness of the hour. Or this could be a normal occurrence- who in their right mind would ever want to stay at an inn with a name like the ‘Inn of Ill Omen’?

That’s probably why Rufio is staying here, I thought to myself. He figures no one will ever come here, that it will be safe. I decided that Rufio wasn’t a stupid man.

I stepped further into the Inn and looked around the small bar and dining room, wondering where the old man would be. After a brief moment, however, my pondering was cut off abruptly when the front door started to open behind me. I leapt to the left, praying the barman hadn’t seen me. As he didn’t look in my direction or make a sound, I was safe- for now. The shadows were not enough to conceal me for long.

Beneath my foot I felt an uprising in the wood; I looked down and saw a hatch. There wasn’t anything else I could do, so I lifted up the trap door and dropped in before I could think of all things that could go wrong, bending my knees, preparing for the impact. My feet hit a dusty stone floor, and I tumbled to the side to lessen my impact. I found myself in a hallway, with two doors on my left side. Deciding to investigate, I pulled out my dagger and tread silently down the hall. I tried the first door, but found it was locked. Moving on to the next door, I turned the handle slowly and opened it a crack. The room was bare and dark, and on the bed in the far corner was a sleeping man. He seemed almost frail, his hair white.

This could possibly be Rufio; Lachance had said he was old. However, I wasn’t quite certain as to how I could be sure, so I decided I could ask him. Looking back, my skills as an assassin are almost laughable. Screw almost laughable, they were downright pathetic, perfectly worthy of scorn and ridicule. But I got better- I swear.

Anyways, I walked over to the bed, sheathing my dagger to look less threatening, and poked the sleeping man in the shoulder. He started, tumbling out of bed and scrambling to his feet.

“Who- who are you? What do you want?”

“Are you Rufio?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes gave me my answer.

“What do you want?” he said, his voice wavering. “I ain’t done nothing!”

I wanted to sound threatening I suppose, and in those days my innocence and naivety had led me to believe that most people would only wish evil individuals dead, so I supposed he must have done something.

“Oh, but you have, Rufio,” I said, my voice low. The fear in his eyes made my heart beat hard with anticipation, a thrill rising in the back of my throat.

“It wasn’t my fault! I told her to stay still, but she didn’t listen…she didn’t listen! I didn’t have a choice!” he sputtered, his voice high and shrill.

At these words, my eyes must have shown my intentions, as he started to run toward the door. I drew my dagger out again and bounded after him, almost cat-like, stalking my prey, playing with him. I could have killed him then, but I wanted to savor in the kill, to take my time. If he headed for the trapdoor I could get to him before he reached the top, so I wasn’t worried.

However, luckily for me, he scrambled into the locked room, casting a spell to open it before him. He ran the wall and crouched down, his hands over his head protectively, cowering.

“Please don’t hurt me!”

I walked into the room leisurely, letting each footstep echo around the room. Stopping behind him, I took my bow off my back and notched an arrow. My movements were all unhurried and deliberate, as I was relishing in each movement, taunting him with the excruciating slowness. I pulled the arrow slowly back, making sure he could hear and understand exactly what I was doing. I walked around to face him. His head was bent, looking at my feet, his body shaking with silent sobs. Pointing my arrow straight into the center of his head, I waited for him to look up. After a moment more of shaking sobs, he finally raised his head, red rimmed eyes hopeful. I smiled.

“Goodbye, Rufio.”

And I let go of the arrow.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Three: Welcome to the Family

I left the Inn without being seen- the barman was asleep behind the counter. I walked blissfully down the road, back to the Faregyl Inn, entering silently. When I was back in my room, I sat down in the chair, my lips turned up in the corners, eyes gleaming, feeling more fulfilled than I ever had in my life.

It took awhile for my exhilaration to ebb away, but a couple of hours later all my sleepless days and nights caught up with me, and I fell on the bed, barely pulling the blankets over myself before falling into a deep sleep. However, I was awoken minutes later by a slightly familiar chill in the air. I still leapt of the mattress, but I wasn’t as surprised when I saw the dark robed man at the foot of my bed.

“So, the deed is done. How do I know this? You will find that the Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things. For you are now part of the family,” Lucien Lachance said, eyes gleaming.

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to this, so I just returned his gaze, prompting him to continue. His lips twitched in the corners, and he spoke again.

“Now, heed these words. The slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio’s blood, the ink. As a Speaker for the Black Hand, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given. You must now go to the city of Cheydinhal, to the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the black door. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly: ‘Sanguine, my Brother’. You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary. Once inside, speak with Ocheeva. You are now one with the Dark Brotherhood. Visit Ocheeva, and your new life will begin.”

I understood most of what he had said, but there was one thing that he said that confused me.

“A covenant?” I asked.

Lachance gave me an appraising look, as though deciding how to answer me.

“Know this. Every dark brother and sister is a child of Sithis. He whom we call Sithis has many other names. Chaos. Doom. Discord. Sithis is the Void. We of the Dark Brotherhood serve the Night Mother, who is the bride of Sithis.” His tone was a loving caress as he spoke of his dark matrons.

“Sithis?” I said, thirsty for more knowledge.

“How does one best describe our Dread Father?” he said ponderingly for a brief pause. Then, with a cloudy, far away gaze, he continued in a low voice.

“Imagine a perfect, cloudless midnight, cold as winter ice and shrouded in shadow. That is Sithis.”

I took in a sharp intake of breath, recalling what I had felt about this very night. Lachance had been right- we were like-minded individuals. If the other family members were like this, I had a feeling that I would be right at home. I smiled to myself, and glanced up to see Lucien staring at me, looking almost pleased with my reaction.

“I’m afraid that we must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I’ll be following your…progress. Welcome to the family.” Lachance lips twitched in the corners (which I now figured was a smile), his dark eyes sparkling. My heart skipped a beat and I felt short of breath; but then he was gone, vanished into thin air again.

I let out a deep sigh and fell back onto the bed. Lying there with my arms crossed behind my head, I had another genuinely content smile on my face- it had been a long time since I had done that. I was part of the Dark Brotherhood. I had a family.

I arrived in Cheydinhal after a two day journey, in which I didn’t run into much trouble. It was a pleasant trip, the days sunny and the roads clear of enemies. I had never been to Cheydinhal before, and upon arrival I found it to be a quite irritating place, with a lot of smiling rich people, walking around and enjoying the sights.

Nobody seemed to have a care in the world. All they talked about was how a traveling champion had landed one ‘Ulrich Leland’ in jail for overcharging on fines, and now everyone was perfectly happy. It was infuriating. The buildings in Cheydinhal were of stone and wood, with an upper layer of white, and the roofs all a pleasant purple, tall and spiraling, As I entered the town through the West Gate, I started to walk it’s roads, the carefree atmosphere etched into the air around me. The tall buildings gave the illusion of walking through a canyon; they almost felt restricting as they towered around me, wherever I went. It made me feel like someone was always watching me, and I didn’t like it.

A scowl plastered on my face, I crossed a bridge and went along the path, searching for an abandoned looking building. The town was rather wealthy and well-kept, so I felt that an abandoned house would stick out. I was starting to get discouraged as the path looped around the church, but just as I began to wonder if I had missed it, I saw the house.

A broken wall and boarded windows were the first indication; broken off stones and planks of wood scattered the front lawn, leading up to a boarded up door. It was twilight, so most of the townspeople were heading to bed by now. Checking around the area, there was only one person present- a guard, standing outside of a home in the square. I stood by the doors of the church, watching him for a couple of minutes. He didn’t move. I supposed he must have been posted as a sentry, because most guards had schedules and routes they were tasked to walk. I decided that I would have to try to enter the house without him seeing me.

Striding across the square at what I hoped to be a leisurely, carefree gait, I saluted him as I walked by and started to head further down the road. When he turned back towards the church as its door opened I leapt into action, sprinting silently toward the Abandoned House. When I reached the door I found it was locked, and cursed under my breath. However, I had a stroke of luck; an Altmer leaving the church had distracted him with the talk of the town. I quickly started my work on the lock, rotating the picks just so, the guard’s and Altmer’s voices sounded strangely muted in my concentration.

“Anyone looking for work should consider the Fighter’s Guild. I hear they’re always looking for recruits.”

Ah ha! I heard the sliding of the lock and I opened the door, slipping in noiselessly. The interior of the house was as rundown as the outside. I drew my dagger, just in case, and searched the upstairs of the house, not finding anything, including the door I was supposed to talk to. Slightly confused, I head back downstairs. Looking more thoroughly, I noticed a door on my left. Opening it, I saw a flight of stairs heading down into darkness, so I pulled out a torch and descended the flight of stairs carefully. There was a gaping hole in the wall straight across from the stairway, and I headed through it cautiously, following a narrow path around the corner. I looked down the passageway, and saw it was bathed in a red light.

At the bottom of the path there was a door; an ancient door with a mural painted upon it, depicting a large skull with a glowing red hand in the center of it, and a woman holding a smaller being, threatening a line of praising figures with a long, razor-like knife. As I walked up to it, staring in fascination, a deep voice posed a question.

“What is the color of night?” it drawled out, in a raspy voice.

“Sanguine, my brother,” I said, my voicing wavering only a little.

“Welcome home” it responded slowly. And the door creaked open slowly, showing another short red glowing passage, and at the end, an Argonian. I walked toward the figure dressed in a suit of black leather, trying to keep my step confident but wary. As I drew closer, the Argonian walked briskly toward me.

“Greetings! Greetings! I am Ocheeva, mistress of this Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you.” I felt myself blush slightly, wondering what he had said. Ocheeva smiled warmly at me. She had a common Argonian face of green and streaks of red under her eyes. She had some random things hanging from her ears, like curtains or something.

“Let me welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! It is always a pleasure to welcome another Dark Sister into our ranks! Truly, the Night Mother smiles upon her trusted daughters! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises. When you’re ready for work, go and speak with Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members. But before you go, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armor, lighter than normal leather and black as the Void,” she said, handing me a folded pair of black leather armor which I noticed was like hers. As I was examining it, she continued.

“But I’ve kept you long enough. Vicente is waiting. You’ll find him in his quarters. Go now, dear family member, and may the Night mother wrap you in her cold, loving embrace.”

I nodded to her, and she smiled again and walked away. I looked around the sanctuary. It was a large room, with two rows of thick pillars almost creating hallways. Lanterns hung from the ceiling in the center row, creating shadows along the walls. Red carpets were placed in a way that seemed an attempt at making the place homier. As I walked down the lantern filled center row, several others clad in the dark armor came up to me, with various greetings and hand-shaking. I was quite overwhelmed, but smiled and said that I was told to speak to Valtieri. They all let me go with apologies, and I headed onward. As I headed down some stairs I saw a Khajiit in blue robes. He scowled at me as I passed by, and I was rather surprised, comparing that to the others reactions. But I didn’t think about it for long, as I reached the two thick doors that led to Vicente Valtieri’s room.

I entered to the room and was alarmed by the appearance of a man standing to the left of me. He was wearing all black, but it wasn’t the standard armor I saw on the others. His eyebrows were white, but he had a black long ponytail. The most unnerving thing about him was his red eyes and his extremely gaunt face. His cheeks were so far sunken in that his mouth seemed to be sticking out, like a beak of some sorts.

“Ah, here you are. So good to finally meet you.” He said. Why was everyone acting like they all had heard a lot about me?

“Warmest greetings to you. I trust you’ve already spoken with Ocheeva? I am Vicente Valtieri. I provide assignments for all new family members. Please do not let my appearance…unnerve you. The needs and tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire.” My eyes widened and my mouth opened slightly. Oh. So that explains it. He seemed used to my reaction, and unfazed by it.

“Now if you’re ready to get to work, I can provide you with your first contract.”

Already? I thought to myself; well, bring it on!

“I am ready,” I said.

“A contract is a secret pact one enters into with the Dark Brotherhood. They provide us with gold, and we remove someone from existence. A contract is fulfilled by a skilled assassin, such as yourself, who keeps the Dark Brotherhood’s end of the bargain. So it has always been. While carrying out the contract, you may have the opportunity to earn a bonus if certain parameters are met. Now, let’s begin, shall we?” I nodded vigorously, totally captivated by his eloquence of speech.

“I’m not sure how you feel about pirates, but you’ve got to kill one. A captain, in fact. On his ship. Surrounded by his crew. Interested?”

“Yes, I’ll accept the contract,” I replied, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Excellent. Here is what you must do. Go to the Waterfront District of the Imperial City. There you will find a ship named the Marie Elena. Board the ship and find its captain, Gaston Tussaud. He’ll be in his cabin. Eliminate Tussad in any manner you see fit. The pirates have been moving a lot of cargo onboard lately. You may be able to smuggle yourself onboard in one of the packing crates. Oh, and one more thing. Get into the habit of asking your fellow family members about any current contract. Their insight may prove invaluable. Take care,” he said abruptly, and he strode from the room, closing the door behind him.

Rather stunned by his sudden departure, I turned and looked at the closed door. I was being paid to kill someone. I was being paid to do something that I enjoyed, something I genuinely enjoyed. This was the first time in my life that had happened. I smiled, and thought to myself, I’m gonna fit in just fine here.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Four: A Union of Like-Minded Individuals

I decided that I would introduce myself to the other family members, to try and get to know them. I also wanted some advice on my next contract; I needed all the help I could get. I left Vicente’s room and started to climb up the steps. The Khajiit who I had saw on my way down was still there; I walked towards him, but rather warily, remembering his reaction when I walked by before.

“If it isn’t the newest member of the family. Let’s get one thing straight- the Tenets prevent me from killing you. But I don’t have to like you. I’ll sell you equipment, but only because Ocheeva is making me. This family doesn’t need any…outsiders.” He spit out these words, his little yellow eyes flashing with anger. He had a red headband, with tufts of hair sticking out at the sides. His nose was the common for a Khajiit; a very large muzzle, commanding your attention.

As I was trying to think up a response to this rather frank and rude remark, he turned on his heel and strode off; I distinctly heard him mutter under his breath “Foul smelling ape”. Well, that didn’t go to well, I thought to myself. Shaking my head, I resolutely decided I’d disregard the Khajiit and move on and meet the rest of the family. I climbed up the second flight of stairs and into large entry room. There another Argonian standing off to the left, so I headed in his direction.

“I wish to welcome you to this Sanctuary, my newest Sister. My name is Teinaava, and I welcome you to our family, and to this Sanctuary. May you find yourself at home here, in the loving embrace of our Lady the Night Mother,” he said, smiling warmly while shaking my hand. He had a red face, with green stripes under his eyes.

“Thank you so much for being so kind; the sanctuary is amazing...and to think, people search for the Dark Brotherhood hideouts throughout all Cyrodiil, in the most remotest of places, and here is one of them, hidden right in the middle of a town!” I said, lifting my arms and gesturing around the room, smiling lightly.

“Actually, I've heard the Count of Cheydinhal knows about this Sanctuary. But he is offered much gold, as well as... other incentives, to keep his mouth shut,” he said, leaning in conspiratively and grinning mischievously. I smiled widely back, giving a little chuckle.

“How long has the Sanctuary been here?” I asked.

“Vicente joined the Brotherhood 200 years ago, and according to him the Sanctuary was already here,” said Teinaava, smiling as my eyebrows shot up.

“Two hundred…years!” I said incredulously.

“Have you not met him yet? You know that he is a vampire? Vampires live a long, long time,” he said, nodding his head. “You should ask Vicente about it sometime, interesting stuff.”

Teinaava smiled at me one more time, and said that regrettably, he must be going, but that we would speak later. He then strode off, heading for the exit. I thought about our conversation- it had been short, but already it felt so easy, so free, to talk to him. I hadn’t faked any of it; it was all genuine. I had an enjoyable conversation for the first time since my aunt’s death.

Smiling to myself, I stood and decided to find out what was behind the doors off to the right of the room. I was just about to push them open when a big Orc came barging out, nearly knocking me over. I stumbled back, but he stuck a big hand out and pulled me back steadily to my feet.

“There you are!” he boomed. “Welcome! Welcome to the family! I’m Gogron gro-Bolmog. I’d hug you, but Ocheeva told me not to!”

“Uhm, well, glad to meet you too,” I said, rather alarmed by his over excessive welcome.

“Well, if you need anything, just ask!” he rumbled. He had a big green face, with small kind red eyes and laugh lines etched into his features. “I’m normally at the sanctuary, so just look around for me.”

“You like the Sanctuary, then?” I said.

“Well, you know what they say- home is where you hang your enemies head!” And with that, he gave me a clap on the back and headed through the doors across the room. I shook my head amusedly, and headed through the thick doors he had just exited.
It led to a training room, with several targets and dummies set up for practice. There was a small Breton girl crouched down in the corner, whacking a wooden dummy with a dagger. I strode into the room, admiring it, when she turned and wiped her forehead of sweat. She had a round face with blonde hair and small green eyes; a rather pretty girl.

“Hi, I’m-”

“Oh, I know, I know- you’re Adrienne! So good to finally meet you, dark sister. My name is Antoinetta Marie. I hope you’re getting along all right. If you need anything, anything at all, you need only ask,” she said, green eyes flashing.

“Thank you, it’s so nice to meet everyone. The Sanctuary is fantastic, it already feels like home,” I said, once again wondering what everyone had heard about me, surprised that she knew my name.

She was silent for a brief pause, and then said “I know what you mean. Have you ever lived on the streets, struggled to survive? This Sanctuary is my home. Here I have the safety and love I've searched for all my life.”

“I understand,” I said shortly, nodding my head. We were all so similar, I thought. It was almost alarming. She smiled thinly at me and strode off a little haughtily, leaving me in the room alone. I followed her, staying a bit behind though. I entered the doors across the hall and followed the passageway down to a room with a row of beds, and two tables with various foods and drink lying around. Sitting at the table next to Antoinetta was a square-faced Bosmer, with peach skin and green eyes. She had a small, pursed mouth and a large chin. She was wearing the hood that was the same as the one I had been given. When I approached she rose and shook my hand.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance. Warmest welcome to you. I am Telaendril, Wood Elf and loyal daughter to Sithis. I hope you find our Sanctuary to your liking, dark sister.”

“Its great- everyone’s been so kind,” I said.

“Well, we are a family,” she replied. She glanced over my shoulder, and I turned to see what she was looking at- it was Ocheeva.

“I heard you’ve accepted the contract from Vicente- very good. With every life you take, Sithis grows stronger, and the Brotherhood flourishes.” I smiled at her in answer, nodding my head once.

“Ocheeva, I have a question…” she nodded. “Everyone keeps calling me ‘dark sister’, but aren‘t we a brotherhood?”

“While the Brotherhood maintains its ancient name, membership is always open to skilled women. For can we not draw blood as well as any man?” she replied, smiling with an eyebrow raised. I laughed agreeably with her and Telaendril, while Gogron, who was sitting on his bed, grunted. We all smiled at his typical male reaction.

“So, your first contract,” said Gogron, obviously trying to change the subject. “No chance for a bonus, huh? That's all right, you're better off! Who needs magic items when you've got raw skill? And the great thing about killing a target up close and personal is you can talk to 'em before you do it! You know, say something scary!” Telaendril shook her head wearily, and Antoinetta and Ocheeva exchanged exasperated, yet amused looks.

“For example, this one time, I had a contract to kill a little Nord girl at her birthday party. She asked me if I was the jester! So I said to her, "No, I am a messenger of death." You should have seen the look on her face! Ha ha ha ha! Anyway, she won't be seeing age six!”

All three of my companions laughed, and I sat there stunned for a second before joining in. They spoke of murder so casually, and of a child as well! I had never really been affected by tales of murder, whether about adults or children. However, I had always acted like I was horrified by them, as was customary. I guess I wouldn’t have to here.

“So, what is your first contract?” asked Teinaava, who had just entered the room and came to stand by myself, Telaendril, Ocheeva and Antoinetta. It was around when everyone ate dinner, so family members were starting to congregate in the room. I thought of what Vicente had said about asking my family members for aid on my contracts, and thoroughly explained my orders to kill the Pirate Captain.

Teinaava nodded, and said “The Marie Elena, you say? I've seen that ship. There's a unique balcony at the stern. My guess is it leads to the captain's cabin. Could be useful.”

“Thanks, Teinaava,” I said gratefully. He nodded, and grabbed a loaf of bread and come cheese, and sat on a chair.

“I've traveled by prison ship. It was cramped and dark. There was little room to move around, but plenty of shadowy nooks to hide in. Remember that,” said Antoinetta, but she didn’t seem to happy to be helping me out. What was her problem? I wondered.
I smiled at Antoinetta, who shrugged indifferently back, and then asked a question I had been wondering about.

“So how does someone set a contract, anyways? I mean, how do people get in
contact with us if we’re secret?” I asked the group.

“To employ the services of the Dark Brotherhood, one must perform a ritual to the Night Mother.” It was Ocheeva who answered me. “Only then will she heed their prayers for murder. It is an ancient rite, this Black Sacrament. All across the Empire, every day, people beseech the Night Mother to take the lives of others. After a person performs the ritual, they are contacted by a Speaker. Gold is exchanged, and the details worked out. So it has always been.”

I digested this, and then asked “How did the Dark Brotherhood begin?”

“Long ago, in an age now forgotten, Sithis came to the Night Mother and begat her five sons. So you see, his love gave birth to the Dark Brotherhood,” said Telaendril.
Everyone else nodded in assent. Gogron rolled back into his bed, seeming to prepare to sleep. Ocheeva and Telaendril returned to their chairs, while Teinaava munched on his food. Antoinetta sat down next to Teinaava, across from me. We all started to eat whatever we could grab, indiscriminately.

“So, how did everyone else join the Brotherhood?” I said, chewing on an apple.

“Actually, Lucien did not try to recruit me. Not at first. He tried to kill me. My father wanted me dead, and he hired the Dark Brotherhood to do it.” Her feature contorted slightly. “I escaped from Lucien, and paid my father back for his treachery. Lucien came to me again that night with an offer I just couldn’t refuse,” said Telaendril, her eyes looking far away, as (I supposed) she thought of her initiation.

I was interested to know more about Lucien, and was lucky that the others continued the path of conversation.

“Ocheeva and I have known Lucien since we were hatchlings,” said Teinaava, gesturing to Ocheeva (who nodded) with a slab of cheese. “He is the one who trained us in the way of the Shadowscale, and is like a father to us.”

“I once saw Lucien deal with an insubordinate Brother, someone who had broken the Tenets. It took me a week to get the blood off my boots,” Gogron said gruffly from his bed in the corner. Everyone around the table (except for me) laughed and chuckled, recalling the incident.

“I will always think of Lucien Lachance as my savior. When he found me, I was living in a gutter, an inch away from death. I owe him everything.” It was Antoinetta who said this, and the way she emphasized her last sentence that made me wonder what her relationship to Lucien Lachance really was. I felt a sharp stab of…jealously, for some reason. Suddenly I realized that I wished to talk to Lucien again; I wanted to ask him several questions, and first of all, I wanted to know what he had been telling everyone about me!

“Is Lucien here? I didn’t notice him,” I said carefully.

“Lucien isn’t here very often. His duties with the Black Hand keep him very busy, so he trusts me to keep the Sanctuary in order,” said Ocheeva.

“Oh,” I said, rather dejectedly. I slumped back in my chair, disappointed. I hadn’t realized how much I was looking forward to speaking with him again. Ocheeva seemed to pick up on my behavior, for she gave me an inquisitive look, but conversation was picked up again and she seemed to forget about it.

We continued eating, talking and laughing for another hour or so, until some had to say good night, and others headed out to attend to duties. I wasn’t heading for the Imperial City till morning, so I just shuffled over to bed, extremely content. That first family dinner was one of the happiest times of my life. The feeling of companionship, of…fitting in somewhere. People may tell themselves that they don’t need that feeling of belonging, that they’re fine without it, but I think everyone needs to have their own place where they fit in. And I had finally found the place I belonged.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Five: A Pirate's Life for Me

The next morning I awoke to the sound of sound of uproarious laughter. I sat up with a start; first surprised at the sound of laughter, secondly surprised by being in a genuine bed, before remembering where I was. The Living Quarters of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. I looked over to the table and saw Telaendril sitting at the table, her back to me, and Gogron across from her. Gogron was pounding his fist against the table, shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. Telaendril was trying to shush him, but he just raised his finger to point at me and started his deep, throaty laughter again. Telaendril turned and saw me sitting up in bed, a confused look on my face. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Sincerest apologies, dear sister. I told him to be quiet, but once he starts laughing there’s no stopping him” she said, shooting Gogron a dirty look.

“I am sorry, dear sister,” he choked out, still attempting to hold back a snigger.

“It’s fine,” I said truthfully. It was something new to wake up to the laughter of friends, and it was something I could get used to. “What’s going on?”

“I was just telling Gogron about my latest contract, and how the girl’s nanny turned out to be a Fighter’s Guild bodyguard- lets just say it was quite the surprise for me. Gogron found it extremely amusing,” she said, jerking her head towards his still shaking form.

I smiled with her as Gogron started to roar with laughter again, unable to contain himself any longer. Still smiling, I swung my legs out of bed, rubbing my eyes.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Around noon,” said Telaendril, turning back to her lunch.

I pushed myself out of bed and stood up, yawning and stretching my stiff body. I knew I would have to get going soon if I wanted to arrive in the Imperial City with enough time to scout out the area before I carried out my contract, so I started to pull on my traveling clothes- leather greaves and a dark green shirt, with my leather boots and headband to hold back stray strands of my long black hair. I strapped on my dagger and shouldered my quiver and bow, while Gogron watched the process.

“You heading out to the pirate ship then?” he asked. I nodded, feeling oddly nervous. I was scared to be caught; I had never gone out with the intention to kill before Rufio, and that was in a secluded place. This was in the middle of a city, the Imperial city no less. I would be surrounded by guards, and if I was caught they would descend on me like a pack of wolves, ready to take me down. I was starting to get myself worked up when Gogron interrupted my thoughts.

“You’ll do fine,” he said, in a brotherly tone, his eyes warm. Telaendril turned to look at me and smiled encouragingly.

“Gogron’s right- you’ll be fine. From what we hear you’re more than capable,” she said, glancing at Gogron, who nodded encouragingly.

I smiled at them both, and was about to voice my thanks when I realized what she had said.

“What do you mean, from what you’ve heard? What has everyone heard about me?” I asked quickly.

“Oh, it’s been nothing bad, dear sister. I’m sorry to leave but we both really must be going. Good luck- I’m sure you’ll return to us with the blessings of the Night Mother after a successful kill.” And with that, they both left me alone in the living quarters, pondering on what she had said. I once again wanted to know what everyone had been told about me, and by whom. The only Dark Brotherhood member who had met me was Lucien Lachance, so I figured it was a safe bet that he was the one who had been telling the others about me. But it wasn’t like we had met for long- just two short visits. How much could he have learned about me in that amount of time?

I put my musings into the back of my mind, and focused on the task at hand. I wanted the journey to be as quick as possible, so I decided that I would try to steal a horse from the stables. This I had done several times before, along with your petty thievery and even the occasional pickpocket. They were skills I had to posses to survive in the world after the passing of my aunt, and I now put them to good use.

Twenty minutes later I was riding a freshly hijacked black horse on the road to the Imperial City, hair flying back in the wind, eyes gleaming with the thrill of traveling so quickly. My journey was going to almost non-existent on this horse- I would have hours before it was dark.

I decided that I would leave the horse by the banks of Lake Rumare and swim across to the Waterfront, instead of riding all the way around. Also, that would meal less guards would see me entering the city- always a good thing. Having only one bridge to access the City, which was surrounded on all sides by the lake, really could be a hassle sometimes.

I dismounted the horse near the shores of the lake and gave it a little shove in the right direction, back towards Cheydinhal. I watched it trudge off for a moment, and then turned toward the lake, switching my leather greaves for some flannel pants and yanking my boots off. I waded into the water slowly, letting the cold wash over me. It was really quite refreshing. After a few moments of floating around, I started swimming at a leisurely pace toward the distant island that was the Waterfront. I was always on the lookout for slaughterfish- the damned things could be such a nuisance.

The swim was a long one, and when I reached about the half way point I was seriously starting to regret my decision, but all I could do is press on. After what seemed hours, I reached the shores of the Waterfront and dragged myself on the beach, exhausted. I rolled over onto my back and tried to catch my breath, staring up into the azure blue skies. Suddenly I heard footsteps in the sand behind me.

“Are you okay miss?”

I tilted my head back and saw the up side down face of an Imperial Legion Officer looking down at me, his face curious.

“Oh, I’m okay, thanks,” I said quickly, starting to stand up, but nearly falling over. He caught me at me at my elbows and held me steady, his face now concerned.

“Are you sure ma’am? What’s happened to you?”

No one in their right mind would have just swum that, and I couldn’t exactly tell the truth now could I?

“I was across the Lake, heading toward the bridge when a bandit attacked me. He was faster than me, so I jumped in the water and started swimming, hoping it would slow him down because he was covered in heavy iron armor,” I said, inventing wildly. “He followed me to nearly the middle of the lake. I decided just to swim this way instead of heading back, but it was a lot further than I thought,”

“What happened to the bandit?” asked the Officer, getting into official business mode.

“He drowned, the armor dragged him down,” I said, putting my head down as if I was an innocent, sorry for the indirect death of someone else.

“It was not your fault- you did what you had to survive. Not many would have had such quick thinking in a similar situation. I thank you for making the roads safer for the next innocent traveler,” he said, lifting my chin. I did have quick thinking, I thought to myself, but not for the good he believes. I smiled in return, and he asked if I needed anymore assistance, but I told him I was fine and proved it by taking a couple of steady steps on my own.

“Good day, ma’am,” he said, and strode off.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and wiped my face with a dry piece of cloth. There wasn’t anything he could have gotten me in trouble for, but I had just given myself a reputation among the Waterfront Imperial Watch as an innocent girl. It could be useful if things went wrong, either now or in my future.

I changed my clothes, pulling on a skirt and plaid shirt for walking around the area. Surrounding me were several wooden shacks, old and rotting, barely standing. Behind them was a huge stone wall, with entry-ways through it that led to the docks. I headed through the center entryway, looking around at all the people.

It was a lot different from Cheydinhal- everyone was dressed in rags, and they all looked slightly undernourished. They also had a look in their eyes that I recognized, and could relate too- they were all hungry, and would steal, cheat and lie to get food and money. I saw several beggars who gave me a pickpocket’s eye, but I stared them down and they realized I wasn’t a likely target.

There were two boats in the harbor- to the right was a ship that I found was called “The Bloated Float”, and it had a tavern and inn on board. The boat to the left was the Marie Elena, where Captain Tussad was. It was an average size boat, its sails flowing in the soft breeze. As I walked briskly towards it, taking on the airs of a tourist seeing the sights, I saw a Dunmer woman and two shirtless men standing by the boat, singing songs of the sea. As I drew closer they looked at me suspiciously, their song wavering and then stopping completely. I looked around quickly, realizing that no one else was strolling around these ends of the docks. So much for being inconspicuous.

“What do you want?” asked one of the men harshly.

“I’m just looking around,” I said, putting on a slightly defensive tone.

“If you take one stop onto my ship, I slice my sword across that pretty little neck of yours,” the other said, leering at me.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” I replied, acting scared as I scurried off the way I had came. The laughter of the sailors echoed behind me, and they started to sing again. This was going to be a little more complicated then I thought it would be. I had noticed that the beach with all the shacks looped around to behind the boat, so I decided to head there to further inspect the ship.

When I reached the corner beach I could clearly see the back of the boat, and I stood at an angle that the sailors couldn’t see me as I mapped out the best possible route to kill their captain. Teinaava had been right- there was a small balcony at the back of the boat, and I could see from here it was tightly locked; definitely seemed like it led to the captain’s cabin.

Scanning the dock around it, I saw that I could probably make the jump from the dock ledge to the balcony if I aimed just right, but the crewman would have to be out of the way. I knew that I would probably have to wait until later for them to leave the area and go on the ship, and I would need it to be dark if I wanted to make the jump without looking extremely suspicious, so I had all day to spare.

I spent the day in the Market, selling and buying, haggling and coercing with the little money I had. I sold some of my old gear, repaired the stuff I kept, and purchased some more arrows just in case of emergency. Around six, I still had some time to kill, so I went back down to the Waterfront and got a drink at the Bloated Float, and spent my evening going through my bag of various plants and herbs and testing around, concocting potions and poisons.

At around eleven, the bar in the Bloated Float was still rather full, but the crowd was starting to disperse. I left the bar silently, no one noticing my presence, and head out to check if the pirates had left the area yet. The Waterfront was nearly deserted; the only sounds the yells and shouts echoing dully from the Bloated Float; the area attracted a rather boisterous crowd. I walked carefully around the edge of the outer wall, toward the little area with all of the shacks, and quickly shed my day wear, slipping into my new Dark Brotherhood armor. It fit snugly, tight, but also loose in the right places so I could move easily. I then pulled on the dark hood, which effectively hid my face.

When I started to move around with the armor on, I felt as though I could walk more silently- it must have some sort of enchantment on it, I thought. I crept along the wall, sticking to the shadows, until I could peek around the corner and get my view of the ship and the area surrounding it. There was an Imperial Legion Officer walking along the pathway, but he was heading for the lighthouse. The pirates were no where to be seen, and I figured now was my chance. I walked out from behind the wall, crossing the well lit road quickly and silently, and clambered onto the ledge across from the balcony.

I looked around once more, still saw no one, and I dropped down lightly onto the balcony. I landed with a soft thump, and the ship shook slightly, bobbing in the water. I steadied myself, trying to get my sea legs as the boat swayed with the waves. After a moment, I could stand fairly still and I leaned down to inspect the lock on the door. It was a very difficult lock, with several pins that I would have to place. Pulling out my lock picking tools, I started to manipulate the pins, slowly, testing them out, feeling where their weaknesses were.

It was slow work, but I needed to be concentrating deeply- however, I was constantly worried I would be caught, so I wasn’t having much luck. Ten minutes and 6 broken picks later I was starting to get worried- one, that someone would come along and see what I was doing, and two, that I would run out of lockpicks. I only had 5 left. I started to work again, with a sense of urgency but also an extreme caution. After two more broken picks I finally heard the clicking and sliding of the lock opening, and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

My heart was racing in anticipation, my breath starting to become short. I drew my dagger, and crouched down, preparing to open the door. I tried to look through the keyhole, but it was too dark and I couldn’t get the angle right; so, I slowly twisted the handle down and started push the door open, bit by bit.

Once I could see in the room, I stuck my head in, only to jump back in alarm upon finding that the captain was sitting in a chair not two feet from the door, his back to me. My eyes widened and I leaned against the railing of the balcony, trying to slow my racing heart. I didn’t have much time- the captain was bound to notice the breeze from the open door any second, so I leaned forward and with a silent prayer to the Night Mother, pushed the door open all the way, slipping silently into the room.

I stopped right behind the captain’s chair, the lust for the kill causing a thrill to rise in my stomach, my breath becoming short and excited. In one smooth motion I brought my left hand up to cover his mouth to stifle his scream and brought my dagger to his throat.

“The Night Mother says good-bye,” I whispered softly, and he whimpered, struggling against my grip, pulling on my hands. If someone had been in the room, they would have seen as I drew my blade mercilessly across his throat; they would have seen that as Captain Tussad fell gurgling to the floor, I was wiping my dagger on his tunic indifferently; they would have seen the red gleam in my eyes as I watched the final moments of his life, and they would have heard my soft, dark laughter as he finally gave in to the fate we all share.

Not a moment later, however, there was a banging on the door and voices from outside. I was instantly alert, my body in battle mode, facing the door.

“Captain Tussad, are you alright in there?”

I couldn’t tell how many, but there was definitely more than one man out there. I wasn’t one for multiple persons combat, at least not yet, so I started to panic slightly.

“Captain Tussad we heard some loud noises. Captain we’re coming in there!”

I did the only thing I could do- I darted out the door and leapt off the balcony. My last thought before I plunged into the waves was that this probably wasn’t a good way to break in my armor- leather and water don’t mix.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Six: Unpaid, Undead, and Unusual

The next few weeks at the Sanctuary flew by, full of contracts fulfilled, time spent with at the Sanctuary with the family, and training. I had several contracts, which included staging an accident in Bruma and killing an old friend from the Imperial City Prison. Both I carried out perfectly, earning the offered bonus. I was starting to gain status within the guild, and Vicente had taken to calling me ‘a dark gift from the Night Mother herself’.

The time I spent in the Sanctuary was regularly filled with talks with various members of the family about contracts and rumors- I became rather close with Teinaava, who was very open and friendly. Ocheeva was always very kind as well, but she was much more business-like. Gogron was also very warm, but he couldn’t get through a conversation without sharing a tale of his bloody massacres, or questioning the stealthy methods of the guild. Telaendril was away carrying out duties for Ocheeva most of time, and that left Antoinetta and Mraaj Dar. Mraaj Dar had made his distaste for me known, so I often tried to avoid contact with him. Antoinetta, however, never outright said she disliked me, but she was always very short with me, and often her comments seemed to have a rude or sarcastic feel to them. We just didn’t get along well, and I wasn’t really sure why at the time.

As for all my training; I had a natural talent for the art of assassination, yes, but it still ‘needed to be honed and tuned to maximize my potential’, or so said Teinaava one day when we were discussing advancement within the Brotherhood. So I spent hours and hours in the practice room, never receiving any ‘official’ training from my family members, but I would observe while they went about their separate specialized skills. They would know I was watching and make sure that their movements were clear and deliberate so I could learn from them; but they would never be obvious about it, as to keep me from the disgrace of pleading for help.

And so went life at the Sanctuary. It was a pleasant life, one that I often reflect on and miss dearly in my current state.

I was having a discussion with Teinaava about the organization of the Black Hand and the Brotherhood (which we actually knew very little about, as I was to find out later) when Vicente came into the room.

“Can you give Adrienne and I a moment, Teinaava?” he said, his silky voice showing that he meant no offense.

“Of course, dear brother,” Teinaava responded, bowing his head slightly to Vicente as he walked out of the room. Vicente turned back to me, his tone official.

“I have a special contract that needs fulfillment. In truth, I don't wish to offer it to any other family member. I've come to rely on your abilities. We're usually called upon to take a life, but not this time. This contract requires us to stage the assassination of a marked man. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I'm ready. I accept.”

“Excellent. You must go to the city of Chorrol and break into the house of Francois Motierre. Inside you will find Motierre waiting for you. Do not kill him!”

My eyebrows shot up at this statement- I had never heard the Brotherhood to be one for faked assassinations. We served Sithis, and he demanded souls. I was about to say this when Vicente shook his head, his look telling me to hear him out.

“You see, Francois Motierre is a marked man. He owes a considerable sum to the wrong kind of people. So, they have sent an enforcer to kill him. The enforcer’s name is Hides-His-Heart. Here-” He handed me a silver dagger “-you will use this specially poisoned knife to stage Motierre's death, in the enforcer's presence. Motierre himself will provide more details. This is an unusual contract. Motierre had to make a special arrangement with us before it was approved. I trust in your professionalism.”

“A special arrangement?” I inquired.
“The Dark Brotherhood is not in the business of staging deaths, no matter how much gold is offered. Sithis demands blood, and blood must be paid. In order to accept the contract, we demanded a life. Motierre offered his mother, and we accepted. Lucien has already taken care of that... detail.”

My heart skipped a beat involuntarily at the sound of the Lucien’s name- I had not forgotten him, and still had hopes to see him again soon. I shivered, imagining Lucien fulfilling a contract- I knew by the way he spoke of killing that he enjoyed it immensely. He was rather frightening even when he was being quite kind to you; I could only imagine the fear he could generate in anger. He had a very powerful presence. It would be scary as hell to have him and his intense dark eyes the last thing you would ever see (at the time I did not know how close I would come to experiencing just that)…and I found myself wondering if the victims of my contracts were terrified of me in their last living moments. Probably, I said to myself, and smiled lightly at this pleasing thought.

Vicente cleared his throat, drawing me out of my reverie.
“Anyways, the knife I gave you has been coated with a rare poison called Languorwine. You need only cut Motierre once, and he will appear to die. One drop in a normal human bloodstream will mimic the effects of death immediately. I have provided you with a vial of antidote, which will be used to revive Francois Motierre after you successfully stage his death. You should also know that there's only enough Languorwine on the blade for this one contract. After Motierre is sliced, the knife will be useless. Good luck, dearest sister.”

Vicente gave me a nod, his fangs slipping out of his lips slightly, and he strode from the room. He wasn’t one for small talk, and I soon found out from the others that he wasn’t meaning to be rude when he leaves to abruptly; he was just used to his solitude after all his years as a vampire with no one around him that he had forgotten most of the social habits of normal beings, and saying good bye before ending a conversation was one of them.

I was finishing my meal when Teinaava came back in.

“So, what was all that about? Or can you tell me?” he added with a smile, showing he didn’t mean it in a negative way. I explained my contract to him, and he looked impressed.

“I have never heard of the Dark Brotherhood staging death…but there was a soul claimed for Our Dread Father, so I suppose it isn’t too strange,” he said thoughtfully.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I said, chewing a on my final piece of bread.

“I just hope I don’t accidentally kill Motierre or something- or kill the enforcer…”

“Remember, timing is everything. You need to slash Motierre with the blade in Hides-His-Heart's presence, and then flee before the enforcer can react,” Teinaava said.

I smiled my thanks to him, then drained my goblet and wiped my mouth.

“And Adrienne-” he said as I rose to leave “-this is quite an honor to be chosen for.” His face was earnest and genuine, and I smiled gratefully at him.

We then exchanged the customary farewell of blessings of the Night Mother. I was going to the training room to practice my accuracy for my new contract. When I entered Gogron was in there, whacking away at a dummy with his favorite axe. He seemed to be enjoying himself, so I let him be, heading towards the opposite corner and pulling out my bow. After a couple minutes of firing arrows the racket Gogron had been creating suddenly stopped, and I glanced over at him. He was watching me, shaking his head.

“Why waste your time with that-” he pointed at my bow “-when you could use this-” he held up his axe, which was about the size of my upper torso “- and walk right up to your target and bash their heads in!”

“Gogron…” I groaned, having had this conversation several times. Before he could get wound up, I intervened. “Wait until you hear about my new contract- you’ll absolutely despise it.” He grew silent with curiosity, so I explained the details.

“What? Fake a death? And you can't even kill the enforcer!” he looked at me in horror, his eyes wide, as I nodded. “I don't envy you, friend. But a contract's a contract. Just do what you've got to do.”

I nodded halfheartedly, over-exaggerating a sigh as he clapped me on the back and left the room. As soon as he was gone I smiled, giving a little laugh. Gogron was always interesting to talk to.

In a much elated mood, I returned to my training, mind working in overdrive about my new contract. It was a disappointment that I wouldn’t get to kill, but it was still a contract nonetheless- and according to Teinaava, I should be proud to have been chosen for it. Vicente had specifically said he didn’t want to give it to anyone else…

After an hour of vigorous training, I walked back to the living quarters to gather my supplies for the trip to Chorrol. I traveled light, wearing basic clothes for the journey and walk around town, while carrying my shrouded armor in my pack. I brought my trusty dagger and bow, with my quiver full of (now all matching) arrows.

I arrived in Chorrol after a day of travel, as I was delayed by several bandits. They were becoming more and more plentiful along the roads, and really were a nuisance. I was in a foul mood when I arrived, and as soon as I entered the city it just got fouler. The city was richer and happier than Cheydinhal had been- everyone strutted around in their fine clothes, smiles plastered to their faces.

I stalked around the town, scowling at any who passed, on the lookout for Motierre’s home. As I entered the center plaza where the Great Oak was, I saw an old smiley woman chatting amiably with an also exceptionally smiley town guard (guards are not supposed to be smiley, it’s just wrong!), and all I wanted to do was cleave their smiley heads from their bodies. The whole atmosphere of the town put me in such a murderous mood with no effort whatsoever. Finally I spotted Motierre’s home.

Just in time, I thought to myself-I don’t know how much longer I would have been to keep from killing someone out here. I opened the door to his house and found the man himself standing with his back to me, muttering. He hadn’t heard me yet, so I closed the door silently and crept up behind him. Motierre sighed and turned so quickly that his nose hit mine before he realized I was there. I jumped back as he staggered in astonishment, gasping.

“Oh! Well... um, hello,” he said, holding his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He’s a jumpy one, I thought. But it was understandable in his situation, I suppose.

- - -
Francois Motierre looked at the assassin with interest- he had to make sure she was the one. He recalled what Lucien Lachance had said of her: ‘Black hair, icy blue eyes… one may call her a pretty girl’ he had said, keeping his tone light. Yes, Francois decided; it was her.

- - -

“You must be the one Lucien Lachance told me about. I've been expecting you” he continued. At the sound of Lucien’s name my head shot up. So, what exactly had he told Motierre about me?

“I borrowed quite a bit of gold from some underworld types. I... I missed a payment. Now they don't even want the money. They say I insulted them!” he gave a shaky laugh. “They've sent an enforcer to kill me! His name is Hides-His-Heart, and he's on his way here now! That's why I hired you! So you can fake my death!”

“Go on, Motierre. I'm listening.” I said, hiding my impatience as I looked around the house.

“Well, when Hides-His-Heart gets here, I'll put on a little act. You'll cut me with your poison knife, and that vile enforcer will think I'm dead. You must then flee from Chorrol, and Hides-His-Heart must not be killed! That way he can go back and tell his employers I'm dead.”

I nodded, and he continued, his voice gaining a bit of confidence.

“If you wait a day my ‘body’ will be put on display in the Chorrol Chapel Undercroft. You can come to me then and administer the antidote. Got all that?” I nodded once again.

“Good! Hides-His-Heart will be here any moment. Get ready!” I turned toward the door with him, hearing him mutter “Oh, I do hope this works...”

We both stood facing the door, expectant and ready. However, a minute passed by and nothing happened…then another minute, and another. He started to fidget restlessly, making short tapping noises with his foot, clicking his tongue. I probably would have been annoyed out of my mind by him, had my mind not been somewhere else. I was thinking of how Motierre had said Lucien had told him about me- and how Motierre had known it was I who was the one who was supposed to assist him, without question. I found myself wondering what Lucien had said about my appearance.

“Motierre, what exactly did Lucien Lachance say-”

Just then there was banging on the door, and the voice of an Argonian passed dully through the thick door, posing threats. Motierre’s face turned ashen white, and he gave a little barely concealed squeal of fear. I looked at him with disgust at his cowardice as the door opened and Hides-His-Heart barged in.

“Motierre! I am here to exact payment, in blood! You will... eh? Who is this? The Dark Brotherhood?” he said, sighting me. He smiled wickedly and said “Oh, you have been a naughty boy, Motierre, haven't you?”

“What's this? Oh, Dark Brotherhood assassin, please don't cut me with that wicked blade! It looks like this is the end of poor Francois!” Motierre had to be the worst actor I had ever seen, but Hides-His-Heart wasn’t one to notice such petty things. He leapt forward, trying to push me aside.

“Stand aside, assassin! Motierre is mine! My employers demand it! We'll see who gets to cut you, Motierre! Let me show you how a real killer operates, you Dark Brotherhood mongrel! Defend yourself!”
I darted in front of Hides-His-Heart and, with one deft movement, sliced across Francois’ stomach with the Langourwine Blade, wishing I could have done more. His eyes met mine, and I could see real pain there, before he fell to the floor. I turned to have Hides-His-Heart’s livid face up in mine.

“How dare you-“

I was out the door in a flash, sprinting across the courtyard and out of the city gates, trying to restrain my intense desire to kill someone. Hides-His-Heart gave pursuit, but I lost him in the forest. Exhausted from the effort, I lay down on a high rock and took a much need nap.

When I awoke night had fallen and the stars were out. I was hungry, so I hunted down some deer and resigned myself to the wait. Time passed agonizingly slow as I waited for 24 hours to pass, replaying the day’s events out in my head. I thought of Francois- by Sithis, I hope I hadn’t cut him too deeply! The poison on the blade would fake his death, but if I had cut him too deeply it wouldn’t have to do that… I pushed the thought from my mind as another filled its place.

Francois had said that Lucien had told him about me- he had considered me for a moment, as though recalling a physical description. He was certainly in a situation where he would take every precaution to make sure I was the right person. I found myself wishing fiercely that Hides-His-Heart had not chosen that moment to appear, when I was asking Francois what Lucien’s description of me was. I kicked a branch in frustration. So many people spoke of things they had heard about me, presumably from Lucien, but every time I was close to figuring out what he had said something happened to prevent me from doing so.

I sulked and slept until the next day; I walked back through the town gates in the late afternoon, hearing people speaking of Francois’ death the moment I stepped in.

“Have you heard? Francois Motierre has been murdered by the Dark Brotherhood! I saw the body myself!”

Smiling to myself, pleased that I had helped cause the disruption in the perfect order of the town, I entered the chapel and slipped into the Undercroft unnoticed. It was dark, dank, and muggy, with the smell of the dead filling the air. I found Motierre’s body to the right of the stairs, dressed in a brown robe and shoeless. I leaned over him and carefully poured the antidote that Vicente had given me into Motierre’s slightly open mouth, making sure not to spill a drop.

After a moment he still hadn’t moved, and I was starting to get worried. What if I had sliced him too deep and he been killed from that instead? I thought of his look of pain after I had cut him, and I felt slightly queasy. I was never really sure how deep I could cut him without the knife hurting him... another moment passed, and I was quite alarmed- I hadn’t failed a contract yet, and I certainly didn’t want to start now.

In exasperation I poked him hard in the shoulder, and to my intense but pleasant surprise, his eyes shot open and he muttered “Ow!” indignantly. I gave an inaudible sigh of relief as he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. His eyes darted around the Undercroft for a moment before resting on me.
“Ah, the Chapel Undercroft” he said. “Now you must take me to the Grey Mare and this nightmare will over.”

I nodded, but he still looked hesitant to move. I raised my eyebrows, gesturing to the door, but he spoke first, hesitantly.

“Ehemm, well, there was something I forgot to mention. All of my family members are buried here, and my removal from it will be seen as a…desecration of their tomb. My ancestors will react most violently to that. Oh look- here they come now! We must hurry!”

I turned and saw a zombie staggering towards us, each step making a horrible squelching sound.

“Oh, Aunt Margaret, you are looking worse for the wear!” he exclaimed, as my arrow found a home between her eyes.

The zombie fell and did not get up again. As we were heading up the stairs to the door, another zombie came at us, but I decapitated it easily with a casual flick of my wrist. The downside of this was that the bloody guts and nerves came spilling out onto me, covering my armor with the rather smelly stuff. Great- I would have to wash my armor again, I thought. I was really starting to hate leather.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Seven: The Swamp and the Shadowscale

After escorting Francois Motierre safely to the Grey Mare without any more incidents, I changed out of my Dark Brotherhood armor and into my traveling clothes (I held the black leather away from myself at arms length, wrinkling my nose in disgust before placing it in an empty compartment of my pack). It was rather late to start my journey to Cheydinhal, but it had been a long day and I was looking forward to my warm bed in the Sanctuary.

I arrived back at Cheydinhal just as the sun rose, dead tired and dragging my reluctant feet down the ramp and into the Sanctuary. Everyone was asleep, so I followed their example and dropped into bed, not even bothering to change my clothes. I didn’t wake until early evening. No one was in the Living Quarters, so I started to walk toward the central room, yawning and stretching contently. I opened the door and found Ocheeva and Teinaava sitting a shadowy corner, muttering darkly to each other. As I walked by, intent on letting them have their privacy, Teinaava suddenly seemed to sense my presence and looked up, smiling when he saw me- but it wasn’t his normal warm smile. There was a businesslike air to it, an almost withdrawn look; his mind seemed distracted, something I saw often in Ocheeva, but never in Teinaava.

“Ah, dear friend, may I steal a moment of your time? I have a rather delicate situation I was hoping you could help me with,” Teinaava said. Ocheeva rose, saying that she must go, but Teinaava would explain everything. I watched her walk away briskly, and then looked back at Teinaava.

“This is a personal matter, and will have no bearing on your standing within the Dark Brotherhood. Would you like to hear more?”

“Of course, dear brother-tell me more” I said, trying not to let my voice show my intense curiosity.

“I find your decision most agreeable!” Teinaava laughed, but it seemed rather forced. He was definitely troubled, and I truly hoped that I would be able to help him. “Now, the details. Far south of here, on the southern end of Cyrodiil, lies a swamp called Bogwater. Hiding in that swamp you will find an Argonian Shadowscale named Scar-Tail. Kill this renegade, and bring me his heart as proof of the deed.”

I sat there expectantly, waiting for more details, but Teinaava provided none.

“A Shadowscale renegade?” I prompted.

“In the Argonian homeland of Black Marsh, those born under the sign of the Shadow are taken at birth and presented to the Dark Brotherhood. A Shadowscale hatchling is trained in the arts of stealth and assassination, and lives a life in service to the mighty kingdom of Argonia. Any Shadowscale who lives to come of age is accepted into the Dark Brotherhood as a full member of the family. So it was with myself, and Ocheeva,” he responded.

“Oh yes, I remember. It was… Lucien who trained you, no?” I asked. Teinaava only nodded before continuing.

“When Ocheeva and I trained with the Dark Brotherhood as children, we befriended another initiate, a Shadowscale by the name of Scar-Tail. The three of us were inseparable. When our training was completed, we reluctantly parted ways. But now... Now, the unthinkable has happened! Scar-Tail has fled Black Marsh and refuses to fulfill his duties as royal assassin! This is an act of treason! This treachery must be punished! Just as a member of the Dark Brotherhood cannot kill a fellow family member, a Shadowscale is forbidden from slaying another Shadowscale.”

It was now my turn to nod, because I was beginning to understand.

“That is why you must go to Bogwater and eliminate that treacherous snake! Please kill Scar-Tail, so Ocheeva and I can put this matter behind us. Scar-Tail was once as a brother to me and Ocheeva. But his act of treason destroyed any vestige of that relationship. His death will be well-deserved!” he ended with a thunderous yell, hitting the table with his fist. I could tell that he was not as happy about having his former friend killed as he wanted everyone to believe- it was really troubling him, and he was disturbed and distressed by the betrayal.

“I will do this for you, dear brother. With honor,” I gave him an encouraging smile, and Teinaava patted my arm gratefully, before striding off to the Living Quarters. I still had to go to Vicente to report my success and to receive another contract, so I walked off to his room, thinking about Teinaava's situation.

It certainly was a grievous one- to have to order the death of an old friend, someone who he grew up with. Shadowscales sounded familiar to the Dark Brotherhood in that they seemed as though they also became very close, like a family. I thought of Scar Tail's betrayal- why would he ever do something like that? I couldn't even fathom the possibility of ever betraying the Dark Brotherhood. I understood Teinaava's anger, but I could also understand why he would still feel a link to this old friend; why it was hurting him so to have to do this. But that is how life is, I suppose- you have to make difficult decisions, and often you are forced to make the less favorable choice for yourself because it is the right decision. I shook my head slightly before knocking on Vicenete's door.

Vicente was sitting at a desk, scribbling away with a large quill when I came in. I caught a glimpse of what he was writing before he slipped it into his desk; it was a letter to Ocheeva. He gave me a questioning look and I nodded that I had succeeded in my contract. He smiled up at me, his fangs slipping out of his lips.

“Ah, so Motierre has escaped? Well done! As payment, I am pleased to award you this amulet, Cruelty's Heart, as well as another advancement in rank. I hereby bestow upon you the title of Eliminator. Your blood is cold, your heart hard. You exemplify everything the Dark Brotherhood stands for. I present to you now this key. It unlocks the well behind the Abandoned House above. Use it to gain hidden, quick access to this Sanctuary.” I stood before him, glowing with pride.

“It is an honor, dear brother,” I said, bowing my head slightly, qutie flustered. Another promotion? To Eliminator? Already? I waited further orders, but instead Vicente gave a curt nod and started to turn away, signaling me (not rudely) to leave. I was quite confused.

“Wait! Don’t you have another contract for me?” I said, raising my voice after him. He turned back, and his face seemed pained.

“Well now, you are an ambitious one, aren't you? I'm afraid I have no more contracts for you. Our time working together has come to an end. Instead, you must report to Ocheeva, here in the Sanctuary. She will be providing all your contracts from now on, and is waiting for you as we speak,” he said, keeping his voice light.

My eyes widened in surprise- most of the Sanctuary members still worked for Vicente. They had been here for years, and nearly everyone had barely reached the rank of Eliminator. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but Vicente understood, not expecting anything.

“Before you go, however, I intend to make good on an offer I made some time ago. As a vampire, I may pass my gift on to others as I see fit. You have served me well, and I choose now to extend that gift to you. Shall I use my dark powers and turn you into a vampire?”

I visibly started, having forgotten about his comment ages ago about turning those he felt worthy into a vampire. I never thought that I would have to deal with such occasion. I knew that I would never want to be a vampire; I may enjoy the night, embrace it, appreciate it during a kill, but would never want to be confined to it. I also found the look of vampires to be quite repulsive; the gaunt, pale faces, razor sharp fangs and red eyes were not something I found attractive. However, I didn’t want to offend Valtieri.

“No, not right now, thank you,” I said carefully.

“I can understand your trepidation. For it is not everyday one is invited to join the ranks of the undead, eh? If you ever change your mind, fear not. My offer will always be open. Simply return and speak to me about the Dark Gift, and we can proceed.”

This time it was I who nodded and left the room, still rather stunned. I walked up the stairs and towards Ocheeva’s room, but lingered just outside her door for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I had already been ‘promoted’ up to the highest rank of anyone here, except for Vicente and Ocheeva, and I had only been here for a few short months. I was proud, but also alarmed in a way; I was scared that some of my family members would turn against me because of my quick progression through the ranks. How had I progressed so quickly? Was I really that much better than everyone here? No, I thought to myself. By Sithis, they have taught me nearly everything I know! And yet... no one else had risen a single rank since I had arrived, while I have shot straight up to the highest standing in the Sanctuary, other than Ocheeva and Vicente. I had never really thought about my standing in the guild, had never really taken time to sit back and realize that my progression in the guild really was quite extraordinary. I sighed lightly, pushing the thoughts from my mind- there were other more important matters that I should be spending my time pondering- like this traitorous Shadowscale, Scar Tail. I suddenly remembered where I was, and why I was there- I had been ordered to speak with Ocheeva! Without further ado I knocked firmly on Ocheeva’s thick doors.

She answered promptly, ushering me in and shutting the door behind me.

“Hello, sweet Sister. It warms my heart to see you again. The Night Mother has been smiling upon you, I hope.”

I nodded, smiling in return. She then described my first contract under her order- a skooma addicted Altmer, to be killed in the Imperial City discreetly, due to the meddling of the Imperial Officer Addamus Phillida. However, I remained distracted throughout her description, thinking of Teinaava’s unofficial contract. Ocheeva saw that I was distant and preoccupied.

“Is there something troubling you, dearest sister?” she said, narrowing her eyes inquisitvely as she looked into mine. I started to reply that I was fine, thank you, but changed my mind suddenly.

“Actually, yes,” I said quickly. Her eyebrows rose, prompting me to continue. “It has to do with the renegade Shadowscale, Scar Tail..."

“Ah.” Ocheeva’s face darkened considerably, and her voice became harsh. “Scar-Tail is a traitor to Argonia, and a blight upon Tamriel! Kill him, as my brother requests, and we will be forever in your debt.”

“Of course, dearest sister,” I said, reassured that Ocheeva felt so strongly about the kill- Teinaava hadn’t seemed so.

"Teinaava says that you and him spent most of your early lives with together, and that Scar Tail was a close friend?" I said carefully.

"What he says is true. All our lives Teinaava and I have lived together in the shadows. We are egg mates. Twins. We were taken at birth, along with the traitor, Scar Tail, and given to the Dark Brotherhood. We returned to Black Marsh as Shadowscales, trained in the arts of stealth and murder. Together we served our nation as spies and assassins, as all Shadowscales do. When we came of age, the three of us joined the family as one. Teinaava and I were sent here, to Cyrodiil, to serve the Dark Brotherhood, while Scar Tail remained in the Argonian Royal Court. Now he has betrayed them...I shall never understand it," she finished, looking quite somber.

"I will make sure that this traitor shall receive justice for his treachery, dearest sister," I said defiantly.

"May Sithis guide your blade!" Ocheeva responded, and we bade each other farewell.

I started my journey south the next morning, after another long night's rest. I decided to carry out Teinaava's contract before the official Dark Brotherhood hit because it felt more urgent; a skooma-addict wasn't about to be capable of disappearing as easily as a trained assassin. At least that was the reasoning I was trying to convince myself I using... but deep down I knew it really wasn't. Truthfully, I just wanted to solve Teinaava's problem as quickly as possible- he had done so much for me, as had most of the Sanctuary, and I wished to do something in return. He was family, my most trusted brother. It was time I repaid the kindness he had shown me, in the way I knew best- murder.

After three rather moist and humid days, I finally reached Leyawiin. It was a rather dilapidated town, wet and muddy. The homes were of a smooth clay, colored in red, green, and yellow- rather uncharacteristic of Cryodiil; the influence of the South was evident. All the citizens seemed to be Khajiits or Argonians, and they weren't dressed nearly as luxuriously as those in Cheydinhaal or Chorrol. They seemed more like the members of the Waterfront, all starving and desperate. I certainly found Leyawiin more to my liking than either of those towns, but the constant downpour was a deterrent for a permanent residence.

I stayed in town for one night just to get out of the bloody rain for awhile. In the short time I was there, a pickpocket was arrested, a brawl took place in the bar of the Inn I stayed at, and the body of a beggar was discovered in the gutter outside the ruined Blackwood Company building. Never a dull moment, eh?

The morning I left it was foggy and, surprisingly enough, raining. I spent three hours lost in the swamps, as my compass wouldn't work- it got too wet. Finally, I emerged in a clearing, smelly and grumpy, to a beautiful sight- a campfire smoke above the treeline. I was near his campsite. Taking a deep, calming breath, I started to prepare myself for a kill. It was dusk, and the fireflies and crickets were out in full force. I was strapping my dagger to my waist when I heard the snapping of a twig behind me. I spun, and found my nose inches from the red and green face of an Argonian. I leapt back about two feet but didn't reach for my dagger- I was dressed as a simple traveler, and I may still be able to deceive him into thinking I was just that.

The Argonian held up a weary hand, as though signaling me to stand down. I took a closer look at him and found that he looked as though he hadn't slept in ages, and his clothes were torn and bloodied. Someone had beaten me to him.

" I guess I've been expecting you... assassin." I started visibly, my mind working rapidly to deny the accusation convincingly. "Don't try to deny it," he continued, carefully studying my reaction with a look of weary amusement. "I can see it in your eyes. You're Dark Brotherhood, through and through."

That certainly surprised me. I thought myself a passable actress- in past contracts I was able to convince others that I was innocent. But as he gave me a knowing smile, I realized with a start that recently people in towns had kept their distance from me, that they seemed guarded near me; almost...wary of me. Was it that obvious? Was my mask that thin?

I thought of other members of the Brotherhood. The first time I had seen Lucien Lachance, with just a glance of his dark intense eyes, I could tell he was a murderer. I thought of Ocheeva, Teinaava, Vicente...they all had the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, pitiless and merciless. My transformation had been so gradual that even I hadn't seen what was happening. I was a full-fledged member of the Dark Brotherhood, I realized. It was everything about me, my life, my very soul.

I sighed and returned Scar Tail's look sardonically. His smile widened.

"Let me guess- it was Ocheeva, right?" he said, but I cocked my head, my look indicating him to guess again. "No, wait. Teinaava," he said slowly, his voice confident. I nodded.

"Yes, it was he who put you up to this, didn't he... Ocheeva was always too busy to even be bothered." He certainly knew them well- if there had been any question as to his identity before, there wasn't now. "Well, you can kill me if you like. I'm afraid I won't make much of a challenge, though. The Argonian Royal Court already sent an Agent to do the job." Ah, I thought. So that explained the blood. "He failed, of course. His body's around here somewhere. But he got in a pretty good hit. If I don't get some rest I'm probably dead anyway." By the look of him, I had to agree. "So maybe I can appeal to your sense of good will, huh?" I raised my eyebrows. He laughed, "Hahahaha. You let me live, and I'll tell you where I stashed my treasure. Is it a deal?"

I thought quickly- truthfully, I didn't want to kill him just yet. He had a personality, a affable personality, and there was still some things I wanted to ask him...

"Sure. It's a deal," I said.

He looked genuinely surprised, startled at my decision. He gave me a disbelieving look.

"You show unexpected mercy. For that, I am thankful," I nodded my head shortly, and he continued. "My treasure is hidden in a hollowed-out rock near my campfire. It' yours," he said lightly. There was a silence, and we both began to speak at the same time.

"Now-"

"I have-" We stopped and looked at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

"You have allowed me to live," he said, after a second of staring. "The least I can do is allow you to speak first."

"Well, I have a question for you," I said slowly, cautiously. He looked at me expectantly. "Why did you leave? How could you leave your family like that?" I finished hastily, anxious to see his reaction to the rather personal question.

He took a deep breath, and looked out over my shoulder, his eyes far away. He sat like this for a moment, and I was afraid that I had angered or offended him. But he spoke again, his voice low and soft.

"I have spent my entire life as an assassin, I was born into it, a Shadowscale. I daresay Teinaava and Ocheeva have spoken of this? At first, the thrill of a kill was intoxicating, it was all I had, all I needed... But as the years passed, and all of my fellow members, my friends, started dying... The Brotherhood consumes you, it takes everything from you- your 'ormal'life, your sense of morality, your humanity, and finally those you come to love. Oh yes, love,"he said, responding to the disbelieving look on my face. "Assassins can be capable of love, but they themselves may not even realize it. That's what separates the life-long assassins from those who are temporary. The life-long assassin forgets how to feel for anything or anyone. They become truly heartless; all they enjoy, all they ever feel is the ecstasy of murder. It is a long and tortuous process, to become this way, and one I would rather not endure. I'm a temporary," he said.

Now, looking back, I wish I had considered his reasons for leaving, that I had understood why he had left, and heeded his words. And I wish I had followed his lead. But I didn't.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Scar Tail continued, his voice lighter.

"Oh yes, I suppose that Teinaava wants proof that I am dead, eh?" I took that to mean the previous subject was closed. "Let me guess- my heart? I suggest you take the heart of the dead Argonian Agent. His body is around here somewhere. Present the Agent's heart to Teinaava as proof, and he'll be none the wiser. I need to rest now, regain my strength. Farewell, assassin," he turned away and strode off towards his campsite,

I followed him. When he reached his lean-to and fire, he started to prepare himself to sleep, while I strode over to the hollow rock and retrieved his treasure. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Turning back to Scar Tail, I saw he was shirtless and about to lean down onto his sleeping pad. And suddenly I knew I was going to kill him, even though for a moment I had intended not to. But I realized that I did not wish to lie to Teinaava, that I had promised him I would ease his heart and solve this problem, and I would do anything for my family (well, at least most of the members). It was a pity, but even though Scar Tale was a likable person, he was still a traitor. And for that, I thought to myself, he did deserve to die.

I slipped my dagger out silently and started to quietly step toward Scar Tail's bare back, the now familiar kill-lust adrenaline rushing through my veins. In one swift, deft motion, I slid the dagger across his throat and dug in. He fell to his side, clutching his neck and gurgling incoherently. He looked into my eyes, his look almost amused.

"Haha... I should have... seen that coming..." he choked out, each word taking immense effort. "Dark Brotherhood... through and through...eh?". And he took a final warbling breath before slumping to the ground, blood streaming steadily from his open neck.

I returned to the Sanctuary three days later, after dealing with the skooma addicted Altmer in the Imperial City. When I arrived at the Sanctuary was empty accept for a sleeping Valtieri, so I head back out for the day to buy, sell and repair my equipment. Since joining the Dark Brotherhood, I had been saving most of the money I had received for contracts. There wasn't really anything I was saving it for, but it was nice to know I had it, in case I ever needed it. Luck favors the prepared, they say.

That night I went back to the Sanctuary to find that everyone was present- a rare occurrence. I greeted everyone (minus Antoinetta and M'raaj Dar) and chatted amiably for a few moments before excusing myself and setting off for Ocheeva's room. I took a deep breath, untied the pouch on my belt containing the heart of Scar Tail, and knocked firmly on the thick doors.

"Who is it?" Ocheeva's voice dully reverberated through doors.

"Adrienne," I responded.

"Oh, do come in!" and Teinaava hastily opened a door, beckoning me in.

"So? Do you come with news of the Traitor?" Teinaava asked hurriedly. I held up the pouch. Teinaava gave me a quick glance before taking the small bag and opening it slowly. It stank of decaying flesh, and the buzz of flies surrounded it. Teinaava inspected the heart, poking and prodding. His face was passive, but I could see a dull pain in his eyes.

"Yes! That is an Argonian heart, of that I am sure! You have slain Scar-Tail! Well done!"

Ocheeva leaned back in her chair, heaving a great sigh, as though a heavy burden had been lifted. Teinaava smiled, and I could see some of the mischievous glint returning to his eyes already.

"Please, take these boots as payment for your services!" He strode over to a crate in the corner of the room and removed a pair of boots. They were leather, and looked ordinary enough. "They are called the Boots of Bloody Bounding, and carry a powerful enchantment. I'm sure you will find them most useful..."

"Thank you, dearest brother," I said earnestly. His and Ocheeva's relief would have truly been enough reward, I thought to myself.

"No, thank you," he said seriously, looking me straight in the eye.

I smiled at both of them and turned to leave. However, as I reached the door Teinaava grabbed my arm.

"Wait," he said.

I turned back to look at him, my glance questioning.

"Did he... did you talk to him at all?" he said, his gaze downward, as though ashamed of showing such emotion toward the fate of a traitor. I thought of what Scar Tail had said; "Assassins can be capable of love, but they themselves may not even realize it."

"No... no, I killed him well he slept," I responded, and Teinaava sighed.

"Thank you, once again dearest sister," he said. "Thank you."

I nodded, and left the room, leaving them to their privacy.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Eight: WhoDunIt Part I

“I would have eliminated all of his subjects, and then chopped his body to pieces!”

Teinaava, Telaendril and I sighed exasperatedly, rolling our eyes in amusement. We were sitting across from Gogron at the square in the Living Quarters, and I had been telling them of my latest contract. I was sent to kill the warlord ‘Roderick’ from the west, who was bedridden by severe illness. I had switched his daily medicine with a poison, causing everyone to think he succumbed to his disease, with none the wiser that the Dark Brotherhood had even been involved. Gogron gro Bolmog was giving his opinion on how things should have gone.

“His people were intensely loyal to him- your obvious involvement with his death would have sent them on a revenge hunt for us, endangering the whole of the Brotherhood!” Telaendril exclaimed reasonably.

“Then I would have killed them as well! All of them!” he roared, pounding his heavy first on the table, rattling the goblets, plates and silverware, an almost sadistic glare in his eye. Once again the three of us exchanged bemused looks, each wondering how Gogron had not yet single-handedly caused the destruction of the Dark Brotherhood with his unorthodox ways.

“Now listen, Gogron-” Teinaava began, but Gogron wasn’t paying attention; he was looking over Teinaava’s shoulder.

“Excuse me.”

Turning, we found Ocheeva standing behind Telaendril, Teinaava and I. We all greeted her, and she responded with a quick smile, but the air of business was about her. She looked at me.

“Adrienne, could you come with me for a moment? It is rather urgent,” she said.

“Of course.” I nodded to the others, and followed Ocheeva up the stairs towards her private quarters. In the Common Room we passed Antoinetta Marie, who smiled at Ocheeva as she passed. However, as soon as Ocheeva could not longer see her, Antoinetta narrowed her eyes at me, a slight sneer on her face. I responded with a bright smile and continued on, enjoying the startled and confused look on her face.

Antoinetta’s hatred of me had become more apparent after my promotion to Eliminator- I outranked her, even though she had been at the Sanctuary many years longer than I, and she didn’t like it. She had hated me before, but when before she would make a snide remark that could be interpreted as negative; she now blatantly revealed to me her wishes that I was killed in horrific ways. However, she made sure to keep her gestures of dislike towards me out of the eyes and ears of our family members, and I wasn’t about to tell them, so our feud remained a secret. I was still at that point unsure of the exact reasoning behind her initial dislike of me, but I kept it out of my mind at the time, with other more important matters to deal with.

Ocheeva ushered me into her room and closed the thick wooden doors before turning round to face me. She smiled, with a rather mischievous glint in her eye that was often seen with Teinaava, but never in her. I was most certainly intrigued.

“Do you like parties?” she said, her smile widening at my inquisitive look. “Because you've been invited to one. Of course, you'll be killing all the other guests. Are you ready to hear more?”

“Oh, yes, I'm ready- tell me more,” I said eagerly, nodding my head. All the other guests? If I had heard correctly, than I had just been given a multiple target contract…

“Splendid. You need to go to the city of Skingrad, to the large house known as Summitmist Manor. There you will meet up with five very unlucky guests. Each guest, at some point in the past, wronged their mysterious host. Now he's hired us to exact his revenge.”

I sighed wistfully, wishing that I could have used such methods with certain people I had known in my life before the Brotherhood.

“In order to receive your bonus, you must kill each guest secretly, one by one. If anyone sees you committing murder, the bonus is forfeit. The guests believe there is a chest of gold hidden in the house, and have agreed to be locked inside until one of them finds it.

“In fact, the guests believe the key to the manor is inside the chest, and only by satisfying their greed will they be allowed to leave. The poor fools- there is, of course, no chest of gold. The guests will find no key. After you arrive, the doors will be locked behind you, as everyone expects. When all the guests lie dead, you will be free to leave.”

I started to speak, but Ocheeva cut me off with a raise of her finger.

“We have kept our host waiting long enough! Now go, and speak to him at Summitmist Manor. He has been playing the part of the doorman, and will explain the rest.”

I nodded, rising swiftly from the seat I had taken, and strode toward the doors. As I pulled them open, Ocheeva spoke again.

“And Adrienne?” I turned to face her. “Do have fun,” she said, smiling wickedly.

“Oh, I will,” I said, returning her smile and walking out of the doors.

I walked briskly back to the Living Quarters, my mind brewing over what I had just been tasked. Five targets, in one contract! And to kill each in secret, while contained to the one house… this certainly would be a challenge. At least, an enjoyable challenge…

By Sithis, Gogron was going to be jealous! I thought, smiling as I pushed open the doors to the Living Quarters. As I walked down the hallway, I heard Teinaava, Telaendril and Gogron’s voices echoing down from the main room. It seemed that they were still in the same location and discussion as before I had left.

“Everyone you killed would have close relatives or friends who would then want to avenge their deaths, and the cycle would just continue! Killing all witnesses to open murder won’t solve the problems; it will create more!” Telaendril exclaimed. It seemed there were started to get worked up.

“I could knock them over the head with my hammer and they wouldn’t remember a thing! There, no more deaths, problem solved!” Gogron bellowed, the frustration evident in his voice. Teinaava started to speak as I turned around the corner.

“Dear Brother-”

“Adrienne!” Gogron boomed, spotting me.

Teinaava and Telaendril at first seemed confused, but as Gogron pointed over their shoulders they turned to face me.

“Ah, Adrienne!” Teinaava exclaimed, shifting on the bench to get a better view of me. “So, do tell us about your secret meeting…” he said, raising his eyebrows with a smile.

I smirked mysteriously and started over toward the chest in the far corner in the room, where I stored my spare belongings during prolonged stays at the Sanctuary. Inserting a key and opening the chest, I sifted through my belongings, tossing out what I needed and moving aside what I didn’t, while explaining the contract.

All three faces quickly changed from looks of genuine interest and curiosity to downright awe and good-natured jealously as I explained. Gogron’s face was especially comical- when I said that I had five targets, his mouth hung open and remained that way, as though he had forgotten about it.

“It’s all for revenge, you see- the client was wronged by all of them in the past, that’s what Ocheeva said,” I finished.

There was a stunned silence, in which Gogron’s mouth continued to hang open and Teinaava and Telaendril gave me wide-eyed looks.

“Five victims? More than two-person contracts are nearly unheard of for the past decade- except for rare special contracts, which are only commissioned by the Black Hand itself!” Teinaava exclaimed. He turned around to the others, looking to see if they agreed. Gogron’s mouth was still open.

“Well, I must say dear sister, I am rather jealous!” Telaendril said. She turned to Gogron and snapped his still open mouth shut with a sharp tap of her fingers. “Don’t look so stunned; unless I’m mistaken, it is your contract that Teinaava was speaking of!”

“Yes- well- that was-” Gogron sputtered.

“Full sentences, dear brother,” I said, eyes sparkling.

“That contract was nearly seven years ago; I was told it would be the last of its kind unless under very, very special circumstances!” he exclaimed, looking indignant at this treachery.

“Oh yes, now I remember!” We all turned to Telaendril. “You were sent to Sumerset Isle to kill nearly thirty elves, but instead of the accidental deaths that the Black Hand had planned, you slaughtered them during a party, killing even those not included in the contract! It was a bloody massacre- everyone knew of the Dark Brotherhood’s involvement! You are the reason that multi-target contracts became so rare!” She said accusingly.

Gogron smiled sheepishly, looking almost proud at Telaendril’s revelation. Teinaava and I laughed, while Telaendril started to grin reluctantly as well.

“Yes, well, it would have taken weeks to finish it the way the Black Hand wished!” Gogron said huffily, but there was a glint of amusement in his eye.

We all laughed again, and this time Gogron joined in. They continued to banter while I turned back to my packing, now stuffing in some ingredients for potions and poisons. After a moment there was silence and Telaendril turned to me.

“On a more serious note-” she glared at Gogron accusingly “-a bit of advice. You should take your time with this one. Observe the other guests. Learn their schedules and behaviors, and strike each one when they're alone. Use your silver tongue. Try to befriend the guests, and then you may be able to lure them to their own dooms!” She smirked, and Teinaava nodded.

“Yes, remember the pretenses under which the guests are there. They will be suspicious. You must be as effective an actor as you are a killer. It would be a good idea to talk to each guest and appeal to their good disposition. Remember, if they really like you, they may open up to you…” he said.

“If you really plan on killing the guests one by one-” Gogron made a face to show his displeasure at the idea- “make sure that when you strike, you strike hard. Don't want anyone running for help, do you?” The others nodded in agreement. Teinaava was about to speak again when there came a noise from the far dark corner. It sounded like a snort of irritation and displeasure.

We all turned about in alarm, and found Antoinetta standing in the corner, her pretty features twisted into a look of anger.

“Antoinetta!” Teinaava’s voice was startled. “What are you doing over there? Why didn’t you make your presence known?”

She turned toward me, ignoring Teinaava, her voice venomous.

“Why do you get to go to a party? It's not fair. I hope they discover the truth and kill you in your sleep!” And with that, she stormed out of the room.

There was a stunned silence. Teinaava Telaendril and Gogron all looked at me, mouths agape, and I lowered my gaze. I guess my and Antoinetta’s little feud was out in the open.

Teinaava was the first to speak.

“What in the name of Sithis was that about?!” he exclaimed.

I sighed deeply, sat for a moment, and looked up.

“Yes, well, Antoinetta doesn’t like me very much,” I said.

“Humph!” Gogron snorted. “I’ll say she doesn’t like you!” Telaendril laughed, but Teinaava was inspecting me closely.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked me, his eyes narrowed.

“Oh uhm, not long, just recently,” I lied quickly.

“It must have been your promotion- she’s always had a high opinion of herself, she must be jealous,” said Telaendril, and Gogron nodded approvingly. However, Teinaava continued to eye me suspiciously. I still could not lie convincingly to him, and I could see he was ready to ask more questions. I decided to end this well I still could.

“I really must be going; the guests are waiting for my arrival…” I trailed off, standing up swiftly and swinging my bag over my back.

“Of course!” Said Telaendril, and they all rose as well, ushering me off, although Teinaava still looked as though he were pondering on the situation with Antoinetta. I can expect a questioning from him when I return, I thought to myself grimly.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Nine: WhoDunIt Part II

I arrived in Skingrad after a long and wet journey. I had... borrowed a horse from the Cheydinhal stables, but it was still a lengthy ride, the horse and I did not get along, plus the weather was not agreeing with me. However, my mood was not to be dampened by horse spit nor heavy rain, and I still arrived in Skingrad in an abnormally cheery mood. I shoved the horse roughly by the rump into the corral, receiving a strange look from the Town Guard, before entering the huge heavy gates into Skingrad.

It was a large, beautiful town; I had been there before, in better weather, and had appreciated the tall, spiraling towers and heavy stonework that made up the city. It was still a rich district, but the people here worked hard for their wealth, and for that I respected them somewhat more than the twats in Chorrol, or even Cheydinhal.

I knew where Summitmist Manor was, so I started straight for it. Once close, I stopped in an alley near the house, to change into my outfit and arm myself accordingly. I was wearing a vest over a plaid shirt, and a long brown skirt. I had been very careful when choosing this outfit; I wanted to look like I was fairly poor, and the clothing was nice but worn and used. Understanding my own feelings against the exceedingly rich, I felt that it would be best if I came off as a poor girl looking for some money. I wanted their pity at first; I hoped that would lower their guard around me.

Before moving on, I slipped a piece of parchment out from the pocket of my travel clothes. I fingered the frayed edges, reading its contents almost tenderly. It was the gift list of Perennia Draconis, the woman I had murdered so long ago. My first kill. I brought this list with me everywhere, and always read it before a kill. With one last loving stroke over the parchments aging surface, I folded it carefully and slipped it into a pocket of my skirt. I had things to do.

The weaponry for this contract had been an even harder choice- one good thing was that the guests had planned for a prolonged stay, so I could bring a reasonably large bag in which I could hide my more obvious instruments of pain and death without being too suspicious. On my person I kept a light, razor sharp dagger on a strap on my lower leg, and thin layer of Mithril protected my stomach beneath my shirt, just in case.

Into my bag I slipped 13 of my best arrows, hoping they weren't too obvious in shape. The hard part had been bringing a bow- they are quite large and noticeable. If a guest was shot and I was walking around with a quiver and bow on my back, I think the others would catch on rather quickly. However, I was quite fond of archery, and much more skilled with it than I was with a blade, to be truthful. After some quick searching, I had located a short bow that was small enough to fit comfortably into my sack, but large enough to be effective. I also slipped some homemade poisons (and a few health healing potions), and two poison apples into the bag or into various pockets. I then shoved clothes and rags into the bag, stuffing them strategically until you could no longer clearly discern the outline of arrows or a bow.

I stood up straight, quickly scanning myself over, making sure everything was in place, before slinging my bag over my shoulder and turning back into the street, eyes darting around, always wary. It was deserted, except for a man standing in front of Summitmist Manor. When he saw me he smiled slightly, obviously amused by my disguise, and nodded as I slowed to a stop in front of him.

"So," he said, "the last guest finally arrives." I nodded, raising my eyebrow with a cynical smile.

"I'll tell you what I told all the others. You go in, I lock the door. You don't come out 'til it's over." I looked at him expectantly.

"Now, I'll tell you what I didn't tell everyone else. We have the same Mother, you and I. And she wants you to have this." He handed me a large, heavy key. I slipped it carefully into an inner recess of my skirt, and he continued.

"It's the key to the house. I guess someone else has already told you the other details. Kill all the guests then leave, right?" I nodded.

"Well, you'd better get in there. Time to mingle."

I nodded once more, but stood still for a moment, mentally preparing myself. This must have seemed like hesitation to him, for after mere seconds he burst out.

"Well, what are you waiting for? There's a party, and you're the guest of honor!" He added grumpily: "All I get to do is lock the damn door. You get to have all the fun..." and he motioned towards the doors, over embellishing the sweeping gesture.

I shook my head, smiling lightly, and hefted my bag up further onto my shoulder. Well, here we go, I thought. And I pushed open the heavy doors.

As soon as I walked into the entryway I was nearly knocked down by a figure clad in all green. It was an old woman, with a wrinkling face and gray hair. I had a sudden flash of the face of the old Draconis woman at Applewatch during her last moments... the look of shock in her eyes, the look of pain...It was so surprising and unexpected that I was physically staggered. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and I took a deep, calming breath.

"Oh, sorry dearie! Are you all right?" she said, her voice kindly.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," I replied, making my voice sound more breathy and nervous than I would have normally been comfortable with.

"Well anyways, you've finally arrived, and it's about time! Do you know how long we've been waiting? It seems like an age! Whoever invited us here must at least know us, don't you think?" I nodded my head, and she looked pleased. "In any event, we're all stuck here together, so we might as well get acquainted. The rest of us have already traded introductions. I'm Matilde Petit. The others are Nels the Naughty, Neville, Dovesi Dran and Primo Antonius. Now, who might you be? Please, tell me a little bit about yourself," she finished quickly, looking at me expectantly.

I was quite stunned with her sudden questions, but I tried to keep my head together. One mistake could betray my identity, and one against five wasn't good odds, old woman included or not.

"Uhm, well, my name is Addy, and I used to live in Kvatch before it was... well you know," I said, letting my voice drift off soberly with the remembrance of the terrible night. "My husband died that night, and my baby is sick... and we are so poor," I added in an almost nervous tone, carefully watching her reaction.

"Oh, you poor dear! Well, this does make things difficult for me. I want to find the gold as much as anyone, but you need it so much more than I do! Anyways... now that we're all here, I guess we can start looking. I'd wish you good luck, but I wouldn't really mean it!" She smiled as she said it, but I got the very clear feeling that she wasn't being completely untruthful.

"And to you as well," I said. She turned around, starting to walk away. As she did so, I shut my eyes for a split second in concentration, a light yellow glow appearing around my hand before I cast it towards her back. I felt the connection of the Charm spell on her essence, and then tapped her shoulder. She turned back, her gaze questioning.

"Before you go, tell me- what's your opinion on the other guests?" I said, raising my eyebrows with a slightly mischievous smile. She smiled back, and I could tell that the spell had done its trick- for the next three minutes, she would be completely truthful with me.

"Well, they seem like they could be an interesting lot, to say the least," she started. She glanced around, and dropped her voice and leaned in. "Dovesi Doran, that Dunmer girl over in the chair-" she gestured to an armchair off to the right, where a young, attractive Dark Elf woman was sitting- "well, she seems a nice enough girl. But, to be perfectly honest, I've never trusted their kind." I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"There's also the Nord- Nels. Oh, that man disgusts me! I find his entire manner offensive. Why, just before you got here he told the most off-color joke about an Argonian maid... I can understand why he was called Nels the Naughty, that's all I have to say.

"And there's also Neville, the Redguard... from what I gathered, he's a retired soldier. He's been all across the Empire fighting in various campaigns. Goodness, he's handsome..." She looked uncertain, but I widened my eyes expectantly.

"Well, if I can be perfectly honest with you, I find Neville quite attractive. Redguards are so... exotic. Don't you think?"

We both giggled like young school girls, and I felt sick with myself. The woman disgusted me; she was every bit the stereotypical old rich gossiping hag, concealed beneath a facade of sweetness. And I was going along with her! The only way I got through our conversation was by looking forward to her slaughter.

"I've forgotten someone...oh yes! Primo Antonius- he's young, well-educated and obviously full of himself. Not much different than any young nobleman, really." The way she said this gave me the feeling that she knew this from experience. "It's obvious that young Primo comes from wealth. A chest full of gold would be mere spending change for him."

"What would he do this for, if not for money?" I asked, surprised. I was rather put off guard by the fact that two guests were wealthy. Either they were exceptionally greedy, or they were here for different reasons than money. And that was an alarming notion to me. I had counted on the guests being gluttonous, self serving characters... but if they weren't here for money, what were their reasons for being here?

"I don't know, it is all rather odd, isn't it? I mean, being invited to this house…” She trailed off and we both sat in silence, her, contemplating the reasoning for being invited here, and I, pretending to do so.

“Well I’m off to start dinner- we’ll be eating at 8 sharp, so don’t be late! I’m cooking Roast Mutton, a special family recipe!” And with that, she turned away and walked toward the basement.

I glanced over toward the Dark Elf, but she seemed absorbed in her own world, so I took the time instead to look around the house. It had a wide foyer, with lavishly furnished rooms and tall bookcases to the right and left. There were two staircases; the left staircase went downstairs into a basement, and the right up to the second floor. I climbed the right staircase to find myself in a room with a balcony looking over the first floor. There was a round table laden with silverware and plates, and a Nord and a Redguard were standing on the far side, conversing in raised voices. Nels and Neville, I surmised. It sounded like they were arguing, but they broke off when I approached- the Redguard stormed away, completely ignoring my presence. The Nord shook his head, snorting.

I approached him slowly, tilting my head and looking curiously at him.

“Well, hello there!” he boomed in a loud, dominating voice. His voice and manner already had the hint of alcohol about it…

“Nels is my name. Some call me Naughty, but don't you believe it!” He laughed uproariously at his own joke, and I smiled forcefully, a tad bewildered.

“Ah, don't let the name fool you. I had a bit too much mead a few years back, and there was this tavern wench...” I used my look of wide-eyed innocence and naivety, and he drifted off, grinning sheepishly.

“Anyway, just call me Nels.”

“My name is Addy,” I said, and he shook my hand delicately.

“Glad to meet ya,” he replied. He turned to pick up his mug sitting on the table, and I, seizing the opportunity, cast a Charm spell once again. Taking the advantage while I had it, I decided to try and dig up some dirt.

“Who was that other man, the Redguard…?” Nels’ gaze instantly hardened at the mention of Neville.

His voice was raised as he spoke: “I will confide something in you, my friend. I despise Neville and all his Imperial Legion ilk! They are useless, uncaring tools of corruption!”

His gaze suddenly turned distant, and his voice lowered.

“Three years ago, my village in Skyrim was attacked by bandits. We went to the nearby Imperial Legion outpost, but they refused to help us! My dear, sweet daughter Olga was killed that day.” I was astonished to see his eyes turn moist, and even more astonished to find that I felt pity for him.

“She was murdered, and the Legion would do nothing to help her. Neville and his kind are scum,” he snarled, and I patted his shoulder soothingly.

“I am truly sorry for you loss,” I said. I could see the charm was starting to wear off, so I pushed the conversation forward.

“So, what do you think of the other guests?” I said hurriedly, drawing him out of his reverie.

“What did you say? The other guests? Well, that old woman- Matilde- she’s kind of stuck-up, that one. Right before you got here I told the funniest joke about an Argonian maid, and she didn't even crack a smile.” I laughed to myself, thinking of Matilde’s comment just moments before.

“The Imperial Antonius is young and rich, but I can sense a good, decent person in there somewhere. He just has to get his priorities straight. And Dovesi…” He trailed off, but I looked at him expectantly.

“Dovesi is the spitting image of my own daughter! Her skin is darker, of course, but that sweet face...” He took a deep swig of his mug, and I had the impression he was gulping back more than drink.

There was a silence, and I could tell from the way his body language became stiffer and his face had closed off that the spell would no longer be helping me.

“I must be going, I have-” I started, but he interrupted.

“Yes, the hunt is on, eh?” If only you knew, I thought sardonically.

“I wonder how much gold is actually in the chest? A thousand pieces of gold? Ten thousand? I guess it all depends on the size of the chest. The bigger the better, of course, but where would our mysterious host have hidden such a thing?” I started to inch away, and he caught on quickly.

“Of course, go ahead, start your search. I’ll be here if you need anything” he added kindly, and I smiled warmly before walking off to the right, heading up the next flight of stairs. Nels seemed like an amiable enough fellow, if a little too fond of the drink.

I reached the top of the flight of stairs and pushed open the door. I found a hall of doors, three on my right, two on my left. I supposed that these were the bedrooms. All of the doors were closed, except for one on my left. I walked down the hall and peered in, feigning an innocently curious look. I found the Redguard tapping on a bare section of wall, leaning into toward the wood, listening for the dull thud of a hollow space. He stopped in mid knock when he saw me in the doorway.

“Ah yes, the sixth guest. I'm Neville. It's nice to make your acquaintance.” He said, his tone official, too reminiscent of one of the Guard- they were all the same.

“I’m Addy,” I said, and we shook hands. I watched him curiously for a moment, and he seemed to be embarrassed that I had discovered him searching.

“Well, that chest of gold is supposed to be in here somewhere,” he said abruptly, his voice almost defensive. “Though why someone would invite us all here just to give it away is quite the mystery…” he added.

“Yes, it is very strange, isn’t it?” I said. “Whoever invited us here is a very generous person.”

“That could be it…” He said, his gaze one of deep though. I looked at him questioningly.

“Never mind. So, have you met any of the other guests?” he said, pulling himself out of his thoughts and focusing on me. He was going to be harder to fool than the others, I decided.

“Well, I’ve only talked with Matilde and Nels…”

I looked up at him, and saw his expression was sour.

“You don’t really like Nels, do you?” I asked. He looked surprised at the directness of my question, but also seemed to appreciate my candor.

“Know what I think? I think that barbarian will do anything to get his hands on the chest of gold. His kind are greedy and vicious, all of them.” I changed my face to a look of surprise, and of doubt that a whole race could be so terrible. The naive look was working wonders- definitely the most tactful route if I wanted everyone to belief my innocence in the events to come.

“Trust me, I know,” he continued, looking down at me superiorly. “I was stationed at Fort Frostmoth for a few years, on the isle of Solstheim. Those Nords are bunches of animal-worshipping savages. They’re all the same, full of mead and something to prove.” He shook his head, looking disgusted.

“He did seem fond of the bottle…” I said, and he nodded knowingly, pleased with my reaction. “He also said she was fond of Dovesi, but I haven’t talked with her yet. What is she like?”

“Dovesi is a Dark Elf. They call themselves Dunmer. When I was young, I spent some time stationed at Fort Moonmoth on their homeland of Morrowind. I have a great respect for the Dunmer people. They are strong and noble, and generally understand the importance of law and discipline.”

By Sithis, all this man cared about was authority. Fitting, I suppose, for a guard, but that didn’t make it any the less annoying to listen to. Now him I was looking forward to killing already.

“Unfortunately, Dovesi doesn't seem to like me very much. But I don't blame her. The young ones tend to have problems with authority figures,” he finished. He gave me a look, taking in my fairly young form, probably wondering if I was that way.

“I hope I will be able to find that out first hand,” I said, and he looked at me curiously.

“My husband was in the Kvatch town guard, the night the Daedra came.” His expression changed immediately to one of pity and respect. That was a hit, I thought.

“I was pregnant when he died, and was out of town visiting a relative that night. I haven’t been able to make much money, and my baby has fallen ill. When I received the invitation to come here, I jumped at the chance in hopes that I can save my baby. All I want is to see her grow up and scorn authority…” And for the final effect, I made my eyes mist over and gazed off into the distance.

“Your late husband sounds like an honorable man, and I am sorry for your loss. I hope the best for you and your baby, truly,” he said softly, looking me in the eye, and squeezing my shoulder comfortingly.

I sniffed my nose and smiled gratefully, acting as though I was holding back tears. Typical of most men, he seemed uncomfortable with a crying woman and tried to change the subject.

"Well, I don't suppose you've met Primo yet? The young Imperial?" I shook my head, and he looked relieved in my interest.

"The kid's a blue blood, noble through-and-through. He thinks he's better than most people, and in most cases he's right. I'll confess that I have no idea why Primo is here. The kid's got more wealth than the rest of us combined."

"Yes, Matilde mentioned he was quite wealthy. But why would he require more gold? There are many who actually need it," I said, an edge of resentment in my voice.

"You're quite right, he sure doesn't need a chest of gold... Maybe he's incredibly greedy, but I don't think so. My guess is that Primo is so bored he simply has nothing better to do," Neville said thoughtfully. He seemed quite more insightful than he appears, I would have to watch out for that- I thought cautiously to myself.

"He could have found other ways to spend his time," I said huffily, and he smiled understandingly.

"Although this is true, there isn't anything we can do about it now. We are all stuck here together until someone

finds that chest, and it could be any of us. Now, the chest won't find itself. We both should start searching in earnest now, as you know everyone else will be doing the same. Good luck."

"To you as well," I responded, and I left the room, shutting the door behind me. He could knock on walls all he wished, he wouldn't find anything, I said to myself, rather satisfied at the thought. I was about to head down the stairs again when the door to my right opened, and a young blonde man walked out. He was dressed lavishly, and had the air of importance about him. So this was Primo.

"So, you finally showed up. It's about time. People of my station are not accustomed to waiting..." He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. "My name is Primero Antonius. Just call me Primo. And you are?"

"I'm Addy." He looked at me expectantly, but I gave him a quizzical look. He sighed heavily, and then asked-

"Addy what?"

"Uhm, just Addy..." I was caught off guard- I was had never known my real last name, and didn't think to give my new identity one either.

"You don't have a surname?" He seemed aghast. I could tell names and heritage were very important to him.

"Well if you really must know it was Diventius, but I've stopped using the name since my husband's death," I invented wildly. "I was an orphan, I never knew my pre-marital name." Keeping as close to the truth as possible was making this a much simpler thing pull off.

He looked taken aback for a moment, and seemed rather ashamed. Serves him right, I thought ruefully. Someone needed to take him down a notch. His voice sounded apologetic when he spoke again, after a moment of rather uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, well… here we all are. It's funny how money can bring people together, don't you think?"

I acted relieved to be freed from the tension, and spoke energetically.

"It is rather odd, isn't it?" I said. "I've spoken with most of the guests, and everyone seems so different, so diverse...I mean, we have a Redguard who's an obvious enforcer and follower of law, and than a Nord whose name even suggests otherwise!" I said with a laugh.

"I wouldn't be so quick to stereotype..." Aha, he had taken the bait. "Yes, Nels is a drunk- he doesn't even try to hide that fact. But what else is he? When the liquor has dried, what remains of the man? I think Nels drinks to forget, maybe about some tragedy in his life. He plays the buffoon, but I sense a deep sadness in him.”

Woa. Either he had already had a heart to heart chat with Nels, or Primo was the most observant and insightful man I had ever known.

I gave him a thoughtful look, as though pondering what he had said. He was watching me closely, his expression betraying nothing. I was quite nervous, having just seen his powers of observation at work, but tried to maintain my composure. I already realized that he would be the most difficult to fool, and that therefore he would be the first to die. But when, and how?

I was about to speak the sound of a little bell ringing came from downstairs, and the old woman's shout of 'Dinner!' came echoing up the stairs. We exchanged looks and set out down the stairs, Neville following not far behind. We found the table was laden with bowls and plates, covered with steaming dishes.

"We're going to run out of supplies if we eat like this every night!" Nels exclaimed, stabbing some mutton from the platter with his knife and dropping it onto his plate. Dovesi was sitting next to him, looking unsure of whether to look amused or disgusted as he gnawed on the piece of meat.

"Please, sit down," motioned Matilde, who was welcoming each of us as we arrived.

I sat down next to Nels, and Primo next to me. Dovesi was already seated next to the other side of Nels, and

Neville sat next to Primo.

"Well, dig in!" exclaimed Matilde, before taking the remaining chair.

We all followed her orders without protest, I especially. It had been awhile since I had had some truly exquisite cooking, and this was just that. The next twenty minutes or so contained a fairly comfortable silence, the sounds of skewering forks and chewing appreciatively. As the plates began to empty and the stomachs began to fill, conversation started to pick up.

As the others were speaking animatedly, Dovesi leaned across the table and shook my hand.

"Hello, I'm Dovesi. I'm very pleased to meet you," she said, her face pleasant.

"My name's Addy, and I'm pleased to meet you as well," I replied.

We spoke pleasantly for a few moments, and after such a short time I already knew that she would be the easiest (except perhaps Matilde) to manipulate. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, and seemed very set in her ideas. That made her easy to fool.

"Well now that you're here, we can really start looking for that chest of gold. What I mean to say is, before you arrived, we all just sort of glanced around a bit. Now that we're all officially here, we can look in earnest!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you for waiting," I replied, and her easily read face gave me the distinct impression that she had begun searching 'in earnest' the moment she had arrived.

I looked over at Primo on my other side. He had been silent throughout the meal, and I suspected he had been observing the guests. Every time I glanced at him, however, his gaze was upon Dovesi. She was now sipping from her glass, watching as Neville told tales his days in the Legion to the absolutely fawning Matilde.

I took a closer look at his expression, and suddenly made a connection from our earlier conversation. Primo fancies Dovesi! I exclaimed to myself. I became so engrossed with planning how I could use this to my advantage that I barely noticed as Matilde rose and started collecting dishes for cleanup. After a moment the others started to leave, heading for bed. Everyone started to head upstairs, except for Primo. He seemed to be in a state of deep thought as well, and I remained at the table with him, continuing to think hard as well.

I had a brief notion to kill him, as I felt he and Neville were the most threatening, but I realized quickly enough that the situation would be too obvious- I would be the prime suspect, and I most certainly didn't want that. I would have to wait until there was an opportunity where several others could take the blame.

I looked back at Primo, and saw that he was smiling slightly, but still deep in thought. I decided to take a chance.

"So, what are you thinking about?" I said, my voice amused.

"Wha- Oh nothing," he said, looking surprised to find me there. I gave him a knowing look, smiling superiorly.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding slightly irritable.

"You were thinking about Dovesi, weren't you?" I said, smiling broader still as his face gave him away.

"I don't- what are you- that's-" he sputtered, but the 'secret' was out, and he realized it.

"Oh alright," he snapped. He looked closely at me. "How did you know?"

I continued to smile mysteriously, and shrugged my shoulders indifferently. At first he looked irritated, but after a moment he shrugged his shoulders as well.

"Many say that women have a sense about these things..." he said.

"I suppose you could say that," I replied. Or you could have been sitting there staring at her for over an hour

with a face like a lovesick puppy.

"Well you can't blame me, can you? She's quite beautiful, isn't she? A little young, perhaps, and not exactly high-born, but she possesses a unique elegance..." His voice was far away, his eyes misting over. I had a feeling like he could have this conversation with himself. I cleared my throat loudly- I didn't have time for this, I had his murder to plan.

"From the little I spoke with her, she seems like a pleasant girl," I said, steering him back down from his thoughts.

"Yes...Can I be honest with you, my friend?"

"Always."

"Truth be told, I find Dovesi... captivating. She possesses a beauty beyond compare. Maybe you could do me a favor?"

"Depends," I said, smiling to show I was joking. Sort of.

"She seems fond of you- If you speak with her, put in a good word for me, would you? I would be forever in your debt," he said, almost pleadingly.

"Of course, my friend," I replied. This was turning into a most productive conversation, I thought wryly.

"Thank you!" He cried, wringing my hand gratefully. "Well I'm off to bed... see you in the morning," he said, and strode off towards the stairs.

I remained behind, plopping myself down on the chair. I sipped a glass of wine, brooding on all I had learned a lot in my first couple of hours here. I thought of my fellow guests; there was so much potential for chaos, just how to harness it to my advantage... The feuds and friendships had already started to form, and were becoming stronger with each passing hour.

I thought about Primo and Dovesi- how could I use that for my advantage? If I told Dovesi of Primo’s feelings, and she returned them, then it would be an instant alliance between the two, meaning that if one was killed, the other would most likely be upset… and it would probably make them the prime target in the eyes of the rest of the guests. I had already decided that unless there were circumstances that I could not pass up, Primo was going to die first.

My musings were cut short when Nels came into the room. He shuffled toward the table and grabbed two bottles of Ale, looking at the labels with a broad grin, before he spotted me. He gave a start, and then smiled guiltily, holding up the bottles of ale.

“Haha, guess ya caught me. Just a little something to help me sleep…” he trailed off, seemingly waiting for my reaction.

“Of course, my friend,” I said, laughing lightly. I gestured to my still half full goblet of wine. “I understand completely…” And I walked towards the stairs to the bedrooms.

I peaked in on all the doors and found that the first room on the right had an empty bed. The other was occupied by Dovesi, who was sitting up, brushing her hair.

“Oh hello!” She exclaimed. “I was wondering when you would come up.”

“I was just thinking… this is such an odd situation, don’t you think?”

She looked hesitant before responding. “It is all so strange, isn't it? I don't know why I was invited to come here, but the gold could really help my family.”

“Me too,” I said, and we both looked at each other for a moment in silence.

“Its such an odd mix of people- have you ever met anyone here before?” I said, starting up the conversation again.

“I haven’t, actually. I wonder how our host chose to bring us all together,” she said, looking at me as if I would know.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, it is odd. Everyone is so different…”

She nodded, and I waited for her to speak. She didn’t.

“Well… what do you think of everyone? Personally, I don’t like Matilde. She gets on my nerves, always acting so sweet, but you can tell she’s not,” I said boldly, taking a chance. I got lucky- she giggled nervously, before

responding.

“Honestly? I don't think she likes me.” I looked at her, surprise in my features. “It's because I'm a Dunmer.” I gave her a look of sympathy at the woman’s prejudice. “I heard her say something to Neville, and it wasn't very nice…” she finished sadly, and I patted her shoulder.

“It’s okay, everyone knows she’s a batty old woman.” I said, and she smiled. “And Neville, well, you know how soldiers are…”

“He’s not just a soldier -- he was an officer in the Imperial Legion. I hate the Legion and everything it stands for.“ She said, sounding rather angry. “When those soldiers came to Morrowind, they persecuted my people and stole our lands. Neville may not be in the Legion anymore, but who knows what atrocities he committed. And yet he continues to act as though he is sent from the Nine to do their bidding…”

“He does act all superior to everyone- did you see how he was talking to Nels earlier?”

“I heard! Just because of his name and race, Neville is treating him like the dirt on his shoe!” she exclaimed,

before looking embarrassed at her outburst. She took a breath, and then continued thoughtfully.

“I wonder what makes him so "Naughty"? He seems nice enough to me. Every now and then he looks over at me and smiles. I think he's sweet on me.”

I smiled widely, but she didn’t full return it.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “I thought you liked Nels?”

“Well…. To tell you the truth, I’m rather taken by Primo,” she blushed. “I think he’s very handsome. But please don't tell him I said so!” We laughed, but she stopped quickly, looking upset again.

“But it's pretty obvious that Primo comes from a wealthy family. He would never be interested in a girl like me, I'm afraid…”

I figured now that now was the moment.

“Not true! I told him I wouldn’t say anything, but… he told me he likes you!” I exclaimed, holding her shoulders. She looked stunned.

“He…he did? Oh my goodness, what should I do?” she exclaimed, and I laughed good-naturedly at her.

“Calm down! I think you should just talk to him- he seems very smitten already, so I’m sure he’ll listen to anything you’ll say,” I said, and she nodded slowly.

She looked dazed as I climbed into my own bed and pulled up the covers, and I chuckled.

“Why don’t you get some sleep- want to keep yourself looking beautiful for Primo,” I said, and she grinned.

“Yes… well, good night,” she said.

“You too.”

[allshallfade]

Chapter Ten: WhoDunIt Part III

The next morning I awoke early, intending to investigate the house without interruption. I got dressed carefully again, making sure that the hidden knives and Mithril armor did not show through the fabric of my dress, and securely locked the chest at the foot of my bed. I glanced over at Dovesi. She was still sleeping soundly, snoring lightly.

I crept out of the room, careful to close the door silently, and started down the stairs.

“Good morning deary!”

I nearly fell down the last couple of steps in alarm. I stumbled, caught my footing, and found myself face to face with Matilde Petit, who was full of early morning cheer.

“Sorry, I startled you again, didn’t I?” she said apologetically.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” I said, smiling. Inside I was fuming- it was five in the morning, I didn’t expect anyone to be up this early! What in the name of Sithis was the woman doing?!

“Well I’ve been working on breakfast.” Oh.

“I expect everyone will be hungry, and we all have a long day of searching ahead I expect…” she said.

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

There was a silence, and she looked at me expectantly. I gritted my teeth, and forcefully said “Do you need any help?”

“You’re so thoughtful! Actually I do, if you would be so kind.”

I spent the next hour listening to the woman babble about her days as a young nobleman’s daughter- the trials and tribulations of the rich. When Neville came down at 6:30, and distracted her attention, I was so excited that I didn’t feel the customary strong urge to slay him where he stood.

Over the next hour the others started to come down, and we started eating at around 8. Breakfast was delicious, but the talk was less free than it had been last night. I think the ‘contest’ had become more real for the guests this morning, and they were tense about it. We all knew that as soon as breakfast was over, the hunt would begin...

And so it did. It was awkward, as plates began to empty, eyes started to dart around them room when they thought no one was looking (I, of course, was looking), already searching. When the last fork was laid down (Nels‘) we cleared up in almost complete silence.

Matilde was the first to leave, stammering about needing to get something from her room. Neville followed, with an equally pathetic excuse. Nels looked at the three of us standing before him- Primo, Dovesi and myself, and laughed heartily.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. I’m off to look for treasure!” he said, and then strode off in the direction of the basement, chortling to himself.

I exchanged looks with Primo and Dovesi, and we all smiled sheepishly. Dovesi and Primo exchanged a glance, and both looked away, blushing.

“Well, I’m going to…. Oh you know!” I said, smiling. I turned and walked off towards the second floor. As I reached the staircase I turned and gave Primo a wink behind Dovesi‘s back, and he returned with a grateful look, understanding that I had already talked to Dovesi.

The day was filled with observing people rather amusedly as they searched for treasure in the most preposterous places you could ever think of.

One particular incident that comes to mind is when I sat in the shadows of the foyer, watching Nels attempt to climb the bookcase shelves and reach the space between the top and the ceiling. He knocked several things over (including himself a few times) before resorting to a fit of rage and kicking the bottom shelf, causing nearly the whole thing to collapse.

And one particular thing I noticed was how Dovesi and Primo were rarely out of sight of each other, and almost always in close conversation. They really had become attached to each other, and in a extremely short amount of time.

There were no breaks throughout the day- lunch was a solitary effort. When you were hungry, you ate what you could whip up. The only to not eat alone were, of course, Primo and Dovesi.

The other guests were starting to notice their alliance, with varying reactions. Matilde and Neville, who did not seem to approve of Dovesi, therefore did not agree with the pairing. Nels on the other had seemed quite please that the girl was happy. I, of course, seeing the possibilities that this supplied me with as a ‘carrier of chaos’, was overjoyed that they had become so close so quickly.

I did not speak much to the guests throughout the day, only once with each to find their reactions about Dovesi and Primo. Otherwise, I avoided contact with them as much as possible. The house was large enough that it had many dark corners in which I could take refuge, just to listen and observe.

The thrill of the hunt was starting to get to me- it wasn’t like the normal stalking in the shadows… it was a game of sociology. I was making my victims like me.. I was getting to know them; I had never done that before- known a contract before I killed them. It added a… personal element to it. I thought of killing each of the guests in turn, and a thrill ran through my spine, into my very bones.

I lay in wait in the shadows, anticipating the right moment to kill Primo- but the occasion did not arise where I felt Dovesi would be blamed, and I free from suspicion. The sun set, and darkness fell. The night was my time. As the skies grew darker, there was within my soul an arousal; the Dread Father was with me, I could feel it. I would kill soon…

We all gathered for dinner, the seating arrangement varying only slightly from last night. Dovesi was sitting with Primo on her left and Nels on her right. Next to Nels was Matilde, who looked terrified to be that close to the big, rambunctious man. Neville was next to her, and I next to Neville. Talk was subdued, and we ate in almost complete silence. No one had found anything, and they were starting to wonder how far they would have to go to find the gold.

As we all finished and started to bade each other good-night, I remained behind to clean up. Matilde was collecting plates but I told her go upstairs and that I would take care of it. Everyone but Dovesi and Primo had left, who were still sitting at the table talking.

“Thanks sweetie- I am rather tired. It’s been a long day,” said the old woman. She left the room and walked slowly up the stairs.

“I’ll help you, Addy,” said Dovesi, and she turned to Primo. “Go read that book that you saw downstairs- you said you wanted to look through it, and now the house is quiet. We don’t need help here, the women can handle it,” she said, smiling at me.

“Are you sure?” said Primo, looking anxious.

“Of course, it’s fine. Enjoy your book.” He nodded vaguely before heading downstairs.

Dovesi and I cleared the table silently for awhile, washing dishes and packaging up remaining food. We were placing plates back into a cabinet when I decided to try to set things in motion.

“So, things seem to be going pretty well between you two,” I said, giving her a sideways smile.

“Mmm, they are…” she replied. “He’s a wonderful man, very insightful, and sensitive…” she trailed off.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Well, I just want to spend some alone time with him, and he with I. You know, where we don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us…” she trailed off again, and I nodded knowingly. And suddenly, a plan clicked into place.

I took on a thoughtful face, tilted my head slightly, slow smile spreading as if in dawning comprehension.

“What is it?” asked Dovesi.

“Hmmm…” I pretended to be thinking again.

“Oh out with it, tell me!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and laughing.

“Well… you guys could go in our room…I’ll stay in Matilde’s room- she’s probably asleep already…” I raised my eyebrows, and her smiled broadened.

“Oh, would you?” she exclaimed. But then her face fell. “I mean, it is rather forward… but I like it!” I nodded encouragingly, and her smile returned.

“All right then, I'll wait for him in our room upstairs- there’s something I want to do…” she grinned.

“I’ll tell him, if you want… get him wondering what’s going on… you know, build the anticipation,” I said, and she laughed.

“Oh would you? Thank you, thank you!” she smiled, and gave me a quick hug before walking off upstairs, a jump in her step.

Smiling softly to myself, thinking of what lay ahead, I methodically and calmly placed the last of the dishes away, and took a deep breath. The thrill was already rising within me, my bloodlust was rising.

I started down the stairs toward Primo. As I walked I thought of Dovesi- it seemed to me that she was very interested in Primo’s wealth; I believed she was more keen on finding rich than finding love. Oh well, I thought. I would make sure she never found either…

I located Primo perched in an extravagant lounge chair, book held loftily in hand. Even when he was reading he held his nose high and his posture perfect, reeking in superiority.

“Primo?” He looked up.

“Yes? Do you need me for something?”

I put on the act of looking about, checking for onlookers (of course there wasn’t) and then returned my gaze to him.

“Well… Dovesi wanted me to inform you that she is waiting upstairs for you, in her room.” He looked confused, so I added a wink. Comprehension dawned on his face, along with a look of almost… fear. One could assume he had little experience in these matters.

“Oh… yes, well…” he looked back at me, seemingly looking for advice. I smiled kindly, while inside churning with rage at this pathetic form before me.

“Why don’t you collect yourself, and then head up there?” I said, patting him on the shoulder. He nodded vaguely, his mind already somewhere else.

I started to walk toward the stairs, careful to keep my pace steady. However, as soon as I was out of sight of Primo, I dashed up the two flights of stairs, quietly and lithe as possible. I reached the top, stood for a moment, fixed my hair, and walked into the Third Floor hallways of bedrooms.

I passed Dovesi’s room slowly. She was sitting on the bed, tracing her finger along the fine fabric of the comforter, when she spotted me. She gave a questioning look, and I smiled slightly and nodded.

I passed the room, but did not walk into Matilde’s. Instead, I turned, making sure no one else was in the hallway, before casting an invisibility spell. I walked carefully back down the hallway towards the stairs, wary not to make a sound. I opened and closed the door, sliding into the shadows of the landing. So far, my plan had been executed perfectly. And now for the final execution…

Several moments later I heard the footsteps of Primo climbing the first set of stairs. My heart began racing, my blood flowing quickly. I already felt an overwhelming sense of pride and fulfillment washing through my very bones, flowing through each and every inch of me. The anticipation for the kill was near unbearable, but I waited, knowing Sithis was with me.

Primo turned the corner. Time seemed to slow as he mounted the stairs, an eager yet nervous look in his eye. His steps reverberated and echoed throughout my body, each longer than the last. His breath was a gasping noise in my head, his heartbeat a steady drum- I wanted to end it all, I had to end it! It was becoming excruciating, this waiting, when he was so close… I could but reach forward and slice my dagger through his fair skin, red staining its purity… but I knew I had to wait.

Primo finally reached the landing where I stood, and reached to open the door. He twisted the handle, started to pull the door open…and I struck.

With one hand I grabbed his, clutched to the door, and whipped it open, dodging around it. Before he could utter a gasp of astonishment, I grabbed his throat. He started choking, eyes bulging and his stare bewildered and horrified.

I felt a thrill rise up through my entire body. My breath short and my heart flying, I used my spare hand and twisted his neck abruptly and fiercely. There was a satisfying crack, and I felt the high of a kill flow through my soul. I dropped his body and shoved it down the stairs, watching as it become limp before landing at the bottom, twisting and crunching in odd, unnatural angles.

This part of my plan I had went over and over in my mind, deciding how best to use it to my advantage. I didn’t want to arouse suspicion too early- one death could be passed off as accidental, and I wanted to use that opportunity to my advantage. But even if the death was pronounced an accident, I had still dropped the stone into the pond. The ripples and undercurrents of distrust and fear would start to brew, and from that they could only escalate.

And so I had decided to use the opportunity to my advantage, to absolve myself from any and all suspicion. If I was seen going into Matilde’s room before the accident, and only leaving once someone else discovered his body, no one could possibly suspect me. And it would put all the distrust in Dovesi.

I had only seconds to revel in the kill before I sprinted silently down into Matilde’s room, my invisibility spell wearing off. She was still asleep, the racket had not awoken her. But then I heard Dovesi moving in the next room. Her room was closest to the stairs, and I had counted on the others not hearing the sound Primo’s demise would have made, all but her, who was probably listening intently for his arrival…

I heard her walking in the hallway, she was at the door to the stairs, opening it…

And as I had thought, she did not call out to ask about the ruckus, in fear that someone would become respond and would come to investigate. Her’s and Primo’s meeting was supposed to be secret, after all…

I listened as the door opened, and I waited as she looked down the stairs…

Primo’s body had landed in an unnatural angle, his knee twisted outward at an impossible angle and his neck showed the obvious signs of being broken. His head was nearly twisted all the way around- he had landed on his stomach, but his face was almost directly pointed at the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes still held the look of surprise, and they seemed to be staring into your own...

I knew she had seen the body when there came a blood curling scream; a scream filled of intenseof terror and grief. It filled my heart with a malicious glee. The real party had just begun.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Eleven: WhoDunIt Part III

The first scream was followed by shocked silence, in which I could just feel the tense bodies of the other freshly awakened guests, stunned, afraid to be the first to make a move or sound. Mere seconds passed, but they seemed to stretch on for moments as the guests desperately listened to some clue on what was going on; the tension could be felt thickly within the very air. I turned to Matilde, who was upright in her bed, her body stiff and eyes wide.

And suddenly, Dovesi screamed again… but it was now broken up by another sound; wailing sobs. Sobs that sent a morbid shiver down my spine, knowing that my actions, my patient plotting, had caused this pain, this anguish . But I could not relish long in the chaos I had so ingeniously created- I had a part to play.

And so I exchanged a frantic glance with Matilde before both leaping from our beds, dashing out the doors and into the now crowded hallway. Neville was up ahead, while I caught a sight of Nels standing bleary-eyed at a doorway behind us.

We reached the landing to find Dovesi curled up in the corner, her face streaked with tears, gaze directed down to Primo’s motionless body. I watched the face of each guest in turn as they saw the corpse, my heart swelling with the pride of Sithis.

Neville’s gaze grew hard and stony once the realization hit- I could tell he would know this was not an accident. Matilde’s face grew instantly to one of the utmost horror; she drew her hand over her mouth and gasped, eyes wide. Nels’ rather bloodshot eyes did not seem phased- more surprised than anything.

But in all their eyes I saw the morbid fascination with the horrific and grisly aspects of life. Something that many try to deny, or keep burrowed within themselves… No matter how much they tried to renounce it, however, it was there. I instead chose to embrace it.

After a moment of taking in the body, Matilde leaned back into the hallway, breathing deeply. Neville started to creep down the stairs, his steps cautious and deliberate, heading slowly and carefully to the body. Nels seemed transfixed, his eyes not wavering from Primo. I relished for another brief moment, and then I began my act.

I slid into the landing and knelt down next to Dovesi, taking her face in my hands and looking into her eyes. Her gaze darted about, unable to hold a focus on my own. I spoke softly and rapidly to her, muttering words of comfort, as she continued to shake with now silent sobs.

Neville had reached the body of Primo Antonius, and was inspecting it, touching only very lightly. Dovesi was now clutched desperately around my shoulders, and I gripped her slight figure back, pretending to share her sobs- but I made sure to keep Neville’s movements viewable through the gap in our arms. I saw him lean in to investigate further, but then hesitate. He glanced up towards our grieving forms and drew his hand away, rising and starting up the stairs again.

Dovesi had stopped crying for a moment to look over at Neville, her gaze pitiful.

“Is he…is…” she choked out. Neville nodded, his gaze downward and solemn. She shoved her head into my shoulder and returned to her sobs. Nels finally drew his gaze from the body and looked down at Dovesi. His eyes were hard, filled with a fire that only a Nord could possess. He was angry.

“What happened here? Hmm, Dovesi?” he snarled, his voice accusatory.

Dovesi stopped her tears abruptly, her body growing still. She lifted her head slowly, her eyes filled with pain and anguish, but now her features were defensive. Before she could speak, however, I cut in.

“Nels! How could you even think such a horrible thing!” I exclaimed, my voice appalled.

He looked abashed, and Matilde jumped in.

“Nels, can’t you see the girl is upset? Someone’s just died, don’t you have any decency?” her voice cracking.

Nels was blinking hard, as though trying to process the situation. It didn’t seem to be working. However, Neville was quick to take control.

“Addy, why don’t you get Dovesi out of here, there’s no sake in keeping her here…” he gestured towards the bedroom, and I nodded understandingly. Matilde helped me lift Dovesi to her feet, who was now refusing to say anything. She was going into shock.

I was quite disgusted by her- it wasn’t as if she had even known the man that long! And if she was as poor as she claimed to be, she should have most certainly seen death before, and in more horrendous forms. And she didn’t even understood the truth about his death… By Sithis, the girl was so dramatic.

Matilde and I led her carefully into the bedroom, guiding Dovesi straight on to the bed. Silent tears were continuously streaming down her face, but her gaze remained distant. Matilde helped the girl lie down and I started to walk back towards the door. She waved her hand, signaling that I could leave, and took out a handkerchief. She began to wipe the tears from Dovesi’s face, and I marveled at how quickly tragedy and chaos could change a persons view of another.

When I got back to the stairs, I came upon Nels and Neville arguing vehemently. Okay, maybe not so much…

They were both gesturing and shouting, pointing and waving. Not a word could be interpreted or understood, due to the fact that Nels seemed to have resorted to roaring instead of speaking.

“What’s going on?” I exclaimed. Nels and Neville both turned towards me, faces red. “Someone has just died, and all you can do is have a shouting match?” I glared at them, and they started to look uncomfortable. “I think that we need to figure out what we’re going to do, together, instead of fighting in a time like this.”

There was a silence, while I continued glaring at both of them, and then Neville spoke, his voice soft.

“We need to move the body, we can’t just leave it here…” I nodded, and looked at Nels expectantly. He nodded as well, though rather reluctantly. I was pleased with this reaction- the reason I had interrupted their fight so early was because I knew that it was better that this conflict was left unresolved, as it could be useful later…

We quickly discussed how to handle the body- I went upstairs and pulled the sheet off of Primo’s bed, and then returned to the top landing, where Nels and Neville had carried his corpse. In silence we wrapped him up in the sheet and lifted him into the storage room, where I adjusted some boxes to make a sort of table. I backed out of the room while Nels and Neville carefully placed the late Primo Antonius, pulling the sheet over him.

We stood in silence for a moment, each with our thoughts in completely different places, looking the form beneath the sheet, the faint outline of Primo’s features. After another moment, Neville said:

“We should wait till morning to discuss this. I think we all need some rest.”

I nodded, glad to have the night to plan my next move. Nels, however, looked disgruntled, but he still followed Neville and I out into the hall. We turned to our separate rooms, but they both hesitated at the doorway, as though they wanted to say something more. But then they seemed to think better of it, and continued into their rooms, shutting the doors behind them.

I walked into the other room that Matilde had been using, and lay down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I started to plot my next move.

First I should probably spend some time with Dovesi, play the caring friend. After that…well I knew that Neville would die next, he was most certainly my most dangerous enemy. He knew that death was no accident, and he would use his Legion gained skills to figure out the truth. His death would also alarm the other guests even more- he may be getting on in years, but he was still strong and skilled in the arts of battle, and the guests would know that if someone defeated Neville, that person could certainly kill those remaining…

Smiling to myself, I thought about the already executed part of my plan. It had been completed perfectly…I lay completely out of suspicion, while all the blame had fallen on the foolish girl, Dovesi.

And so my thoughts went for most of the night- I was still intoxicated by the thrill of a murder, of death within these walls by my hands…but eventually sleep came, and I dreamt of the demise of Neville, his blood flowing freely, staining my blade…

When I awoke my surroundings seemed quiet. I took a moment to orient myself, and then listened harder. I didn’t hear the sounds of deep breathing or snoring, or the creaking of beds and shifting of bodies while they slept. But I did faintly hear the music of birds and doves; I had overslept, it must be well past morning.

Cursing rapidly under my breath, I leapt out of bed and pulled on a spare dress, quickly attaching a dagger and a few throwing knives to my leg, along with some poisons into the inner folds of my skirt. I walked into the hallway and peered into all the rooms- no one was there, except of course for Primo, still laying beneath his sheet. I ran fingers through my hair, attempting to tidy it up as I descended the stairs quickly.

I could now hear voices, raised voices.

“Well who else could it have been?” That was Nel’s voice.

“Nels, really now, look at the poor girl…”

I entered the room to quite a chaotic scene. Nels was standing across the table from Matilde and Neville, while Dovesi was standing off to side. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her face was defensive and angered. Nels’ face was beet red, and his eyes were flashing. Matilde looked flustered and upset, while Neville was watching with an impassive face, his eyes understanding almost.

When I entered the room all four turned to look at me.

“What is going on?” I asked, my voice cracking.

Dovesi uttered a little sob and walked over towards me, taking my hand in both of hers and looking into my eyes in despair.

“Nels thinks that I… that I…killed-” and she dissolved into sobs, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Using an extraordinary amount of willpower, I put my own arms around her, patting her head comfortingly, while glaring at Nels over her shoulder.

“Nels, look at her! She couldn’t have killed him!” I said, my voice startled.

Nels started to speak, but Neville cut in.

“This was nothing more than an accident. I have seen murder countless times in my life, and this was not. I think we all just need to calm down,” he said… But I could tell he didn’t believe his own words. However, they did have a soothing effect on everyone else.

“What happened was terrible yes, but it was nothing more than an accident. Now I think we should all focus on getting out of here, and fast.” Aha, I thought. He’s scared. “I don’t know about you, but that gold’s not looking as appealing now,” Neville said, and the others nodded in consent.

“We can all search for the chest, together. We’ll decide what to do with the gold once we’ve found it, but all I know is that I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

“I agree,” said Matilde, speaking in an almost defiant voice. “It’s better that we work together- I don’t want to stay here any longer. There’s an…eerie aura about the house, don’t you feel it? A sense of dread?” She looked around at the others, who stared blankly back. “In any case, I think its time we set aside our differences,” she finished.

“We should start right away-” Neville said. “-Addy, take Dovesi to her room. I think that she would be more of a hindrance in her current state than a help.”

I nodded, internally fuming over being left out of the planning, and walked slowly up the stairs, listening intently over Dovesi’s quiet sobs as Neville ordered that they begin to comb the house in an organized manner- sending Matilde to the basement, Nels to the first floor, and himself to the third floor, leaving me the second floor. We would switch throughout the day- whenever you had felt you’d searched the area thoroughly, you’d find someone to exchange floors with.

This was certainly going to make things a bit more difficult for me, I thought grimly. Everyone was organized…I had hoped for chaos…but with the elimination of Neville, it seemed I would achieve this. Now how to bring that about…

I laid Dovesi in bed, wiping her face with a handkerchief and soothing her cries. After about fifteen minutes she had calmed down, and was starting to dose off. I smiled softy to myself as I pulled the covers over her body, knowing that soon, very soon, I would be sending her soul to Sithis…

I walked out into the hallway and found the area to be silent- but surely Neville had come up to begin his search? I stuck my head into all of the bedrooms, but didn’t see him. Puzzled, I was about to walk down the stairs when I remembered- the storage room…where Primo’s body now lay!

I opened the door and found Neville with his back to me. He was lifting the sheet, inspected Primo’s neck. To announce my presence I gave a little gasp of surprise, and he turned about wildly.

“What in the name of Akatosh are you doing?” I implored, aghast.

“Well…” He looked me up and down, as though sizing me up. He took in my defiant and strong willed jaw, and seemed to come to a decision. He sighed, as though already sorry about what he was about to say.

“I tell you this in complete confidence… you are the only I feel can handle this appropriately. I can trust you to do the right thing,” he said.

I looked back at him, nodding slightly and responding “Of course.” He closed his eyes for a moment, obviously planning his words carefully, before continuing.

“To be quite frank, I wasn’t being entirely truthful downstairs.”

“Are you saying that you’re not searching for the-” I began.

“No, no that I was being completely truthful about,” he said irritably. “What I mean is… I don’t believe Primo’s death was an accident.” I changed my look to one of irritation and exasperation.

“Not this again,” I groaned. “I know Dovesi, she couldn’t have-”

“I’m not saying that it was Dovesi,” he interrupted, looking at me in a meaningful sort of way.

“Then what are you saying?” I implored, narrowing my eyes slightly.

He sighed again. “Here we are, locked inside a house with five strangers? It sounded like a trap when I read the invitation. Looks like I was right!” I widened my eyes, my mouth opening slightly in alarm. But the comprehension, the realization that he was right, was in my eyes as well. He took power from my confirmation and continued on, his voice raising.

“We're being stalked, like animals in the forest. I'm still not sure if the killer is one of the other guests, or is hiding somewhere in the house. One thing I do know is that the killer won't just stop with one. They never do,” he said ferociously, and I could tell he knew this from experience. I took a quick, gasping, nervous breath, and he put a comforting, strong hand on my shoulder.

“You and I, we need to watch each other's backs. I've got my old Legion armor and sword in a chest in my room. It's time I geared up and showed this coward just who he's dealing with!”

By Sithis, I hated this man! I had to act quickly, or matters could be taken outside of my control. I did some extremely fast thinking, and thankfully found a solution.

“I…they…” I stammered, and he looked at me apologetically. I acted as though this information had staggered me. After a moment of closed eyes and open mouthed processing, I look up at him, as though I had reached a decision.

“I don’t want to believe it-” I said, my voice stronger. “-but I think that you are right…I have a dagger, in my room…” My voice trailed off.

“Yes, you should most certainly keep that with you at all times…and please, keep this information to yourself. There is no need to alarm the others, and you could very well be informing the killer of our awareness…” I nodded, and we both walked out of the room, I in the lead. He headed for his room, while I darted into mine.

There wasn’t much time, not if this was going to work….I pulled my sharpest dagger out from the sheath hidden on my leg, and took out a vial of poison. Carefully, I smeared the edge of the dagger with the lethal substance, keeping it away from my own skin. I stuck the poison back into a pocket and stepped silently into the hall, sending a silent prayer to the Night Mother…

His door was ajar, and peering in I could see him leaning over his chest, rummaging about, the clanging of metals and steel clearly heard. And among this was another sound…my heart beating, reverberating throughout my head…the blood pulsing through my veins…and thinking of the blood in his veins, soon to be spilt…

I crept into the room, my legs bent and ready in case he turned unexpectedly. He didn’t. I was three feet from him….two…one…and with a surge of sadistic glee, I grabbed Neville by his hair and pulled his head back, level to my own. I pressed my dagger to his throat, and leaned in slightly, touching my lips softly to his ear.

“You’re right….I won’t stop with one,” I whispered.

And before he could shout out, I stabbed the tip of my dagger deep within his flesh, until I felt the hard resistance of bone, and slid it slowly all around his neck, relishing in the flood of blood that gushed forth from his open throat.

He had only time for one last gasping, gurgling breath before he slumped forward. He had fallen over his open trunk, and it was quickly filling with his blood, staining the shiny metals of his armor and weapons. I kneeled by his body, breathing rapidly and feeling rather dazed. I had never waited this long before a kill…not when I knew who the target was, when I knew what I intended to do…it was a thrilling intoxicating feeling.

But there was yet more to be done- three guests were still awaiting their turn to be sacrificed to Sithis. And Sithis was always ready for more blood.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Twelve: WhoDunIt Part IV

I knelt beside the body of Neville, watching as his veins were drained of their life’s liquid. My eyes were glowing red from the reflection of his blood, my lips upturned slightly at the corners, forming a dark smile of sadistic satisfaction. I sat very still, not a muscle moving, the only sound a steady trickling of blood.

Yet although my body was motionless, my mind was racing, attempting to calculate my next move. I did have more time to prepare than I had had after Primo’s death, but I couldn’t be sure when someone would go looking to change floors. And I didn’t want to be caught on the third floor instead of the second.

And although I thought intensely, I realized that there was not too much planning for the future that I could actually do; accurately at least. So much depended upon chance, on how things played out, I mused… but I did think it was best to leave Neville’s body where it lay, as it would be hard to hide the blood, and the fact that he was preparing himself for battle as he was killed would frighten the remaining guests even more.

Shaking my head slightly, I drew myself from these thoughts to find that the blood flow was starting to cease. Leaning over the rim of the chest, I found that it was nearly half full of the red liquid. Staring down at my crimson reflection, I was overcome with a powerful urge; I wanted to touch it, to feel the blood on my skin…

Reaching forward, my heart beating intensely, I slowly dipped my index finger into the deep pool, a chill running down my spine. I swirled the liquid slowly, savoring its thick warmth…it made me feel so alive, that I had caused this to spill from a once living, breathing body! That this had once been pumping through the veins of another, giving them life… and I had taken it!

Breathing hard, almost panting in anticipation, I withdrew my finger slowly and rubbed the blood against my thumb, smearing it, relishing in its warm density before bringing it below my noise. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma. Many say that blood does not have an odor, but they do not understand- there is a scent, one that I know and love. It smells of freshly shaped metal, sill hot from the blacksmiths hammer. It smells like the stale air, just after a storm of rain has passed- and it smells of the night; of the cloudless midnight where shadow and shade hides all in its dark abyss…

And yet there was work to be done, and, deciding not to waste any time, I reluctantly left my vigil by Neville’s side. I wiped my hand carefully on a inner layer of my skirt, making sure no blood was visible on my body, and made my way softly down the stairs, praying that no one had switched floors yet.

The sounds of desperate and hurried movement came from below me- I could hear the tossing of books, the shuffled sound of feet moving rapidly around the room, and metal thud of platters and decorations being shifted about. Yet none came from the second floor, where I had been assigned.

I glanced off the balcony onto the first floor, and saw that Matilde was still down there- and quite a job of searching she was doing, I thought bemusedly, watching as she hysterically flung books from their shelves, pounding frantically at the wood behind, presumably searching for hollow sections which may hide the chest.

I could kill her where she stood, I thought with a jolt- but I never knew when Nels could come up the stairs, and he would most certainly raise the alarm, great enough to wake Dovesi. I couldn’t have that, so I decided to wait it out, play their game for awhile. I would await the most opportune moment to strike. This thought sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, and I too began to search my floor, making a show of throwing things about.

Time passed, I cannot recall how much, but I was beginning to grow restless just as Matilde finally offered to switch floors with me. She was quite pale, and her eyes were haunted. The old woman must have had a very sheltered life if this was the worst she had ever been exposed to, I thought bitterly. But I gave her words of encouragement, that one of us had to be able to find the chest, that Neville was right, there couldn‘t be a murderer, just an unfortunate accident…and that she would be free from this soon. Only the last statement was true.

I added to the destruction of the first floor, actually finding the activity to be quite enjoyable at times. Yet my mind was awaiting the moment that either Dovesi or Matilde would find Neville’s body, let out the cry of horror… yet nothing came. I was glad that I had switched floors, because now it was not only Dovesi and I who could be suspected; Matilde would now have had the location and time to commit the crime.

Yet the suspect I would have most liked to have blamed would have been Nels, yet he seemed the only one who would be free of suspicion when the time came, as he had yet to take the second floor, and Dovesi or Matilde was bound to find Neville before they could switch.

I was deep in thought, standing on a chair to check the bookcases, when suddenly I heard the sound of footsteps right behind me. Quite startled, I staggered and slipped wildly off the chair, barely landing on my two feet.

“Woa there!” came Nels’ booming voice, and he reached two massive arms out and grabbed my shoulders, helping regain my balance. Once I was steady, I pressed a hand to my chest and gave a short laugh.

“You scared me there!” I exclaimed, while internally berating myself for letting my guard down, and enough to let him surprise me so much.

He smiled again, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “I suppose everyone’s a bit jumpy, I mean, considering…” he trailed off, as if wishing he had not spoken.

I narrowed my eyes inquisitively at him. “But… Neville said everything was okay… that it was an accident… what is there to be jumpy about?” My voice was wavering slightly, eyes concerned and uncertain.

“Yes, yes he did. But I’m still not so sure- he may talk as though he is an experienced veteran of the Legion… but can we ever really know his past? Can we really believe anything that anyone here tells us?” he said thoughtfully. I was quite surprised by this insight from the Nord, and he spoke again before I could.

“I just get the feeling that even if he is telling the truth about that, he’s still holding something back. If he was a member of the Legion, then he surely knows the value of keeping the whole truth from the public, to prevent panic.”

“Are you trying to say…that Primo was murdered?” I stuttered, but my voice was doubtful.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze far off. “I don’t really know,” he said finally. “But I do know that Neville was hiding something, and that’s the only thing I can think of… but enough of this. We should work on getting out of here.”

I nodded, and he continued. “Would you like to switch floors? I’m finished with the basement, and believe me, there’s nothing down there. I tore the place apart.”

I looked around the room and felt lucky that I hadn’t searched it too thoroughly yet.

“Actually, I would like some more time… if it isn’t too much trouble, I think Matilde’s been on the second floor for awhile. She may want to switch.”

“Alright, I’ll ask her then,” he said, turning and raising his hand in farewell.

Climbing back onto my chair, I watched him intently as he mounted the stairs, listening closely. I heard him greet Matilde, and she in return. He did not attempt anymore conversation than that, skipping right to the offer of switching floors.

This is where I held my breath- if she accepted his offer, she would go downstairs, and that meant that Nels would have had time to kill Neville as well, making each and every one of us suspect. But if she denied it, he may go upstairs in search of Neville…

“Well yes, I suppose I’m finished here. You say the basement is finished? Well I guess I’ll go downstairs and help Addy then…” I let out a sigh of relief. Perfect.

“Yes, of course…. Say, you haven’t seen Neville since this morning, have you?” said Nels.

There was a pause, and I stopped moving, leaning upwards and putting every ounce of my concentration on the quiet conversation.

“Actually no, I have not. But I believe he is still upstairs, searching,” she replied, and I heard Nels give a small grunt of acknowledgement. This couldn’t get any better! I thought gleefully. If Nels was left up there for at least about a half hour, I mused, that conversation would seem highly suspicious after Neville’s body was found…

I started pulling out books from the shelf as I heard Matilde descending the stairs, and looked up when she was in view.

“Would you like some help, deary? Nels says that he is finished with the basement, and I would rather not go down there alone anyways.”

“Of course, I’d appreciate it,” I replied, smiling warmly.

In reality, I would appreciate very much to kill her where she stood, but I knew that a better situation would arise. Since the second floor was a balcony overlooking the first, the sounds of death could be easily heard by Nels, and he was moving around up there quite a bit; who knew when he would chance a look over the edge? Better not risk it, better to wait…

And so Matilde and I continued our fruitless search of the first floor, speaking little, only to instruct the other to aid with a particularly difficult spot to examine. She seemed nervous, and many times I thought she meant to ask me something- she would take a deep breath as though about to speak, but then let it out slowly, keeping her gaze lowered. I was appreciative of her silence though, and did not push the situation.

I was ever alert, awaiting the moment when Neville would be discovered. His absence had been noticed, and it couldn’t be too long until they went looking for him, or Dovesi awoke and discovered his body…

After a nearly excruciating hour, Nels called down to us.

“Are you two still down there?” his voice echoed from the floor above.

“Yes!” we called in unison, and he stuck his head over the railing, scanning the ruins we had left the foyer in. Books, papers, and pieces of parchment were spread all over the floor, broken splinters of wood and glass littering the ground.

“It looks like you’re nearly done searching, eh?” He said, a glint of amusement in his eye.

We nodded sheepishly, looking around at the destruction we had caused, before I spoke.

“We need to regroup, I think. Has anyone found anything yet?” I asked.

They both shook their heads, and we all glanced upwards towards the third floor.

“Has… has anyone spoken with Neville… at all today?” asked Matilde timidly. She tried to contain her fear, but her voice was cracking obviously.

We all shook our head slowly again, and exchanged looks of barely concealed anxiety.

“Well… maybe we should go check on him?” I said slowly, after a moment of tense silence.

The others nodded quickly, as though happy not to have been the ones to suggest it, and started walking silently towards the stairs, Matilde trying to conceal quick and anxious steps as she led the way.

We ascended the flights of stairs quickly, the air becoming thicker and tenser as we started to come to the door leading to the third floor hallway. Matilde slowed as she reached the last few steps, treading lightly. We came to a near stop, and were dismayed as we didn’t hear any sound of movement, no sign that anything was alive up there.

With an impending sense of dread, Matilde glanced back at us apprehensively and pushed the slightly open door until it swung wide, revealing the empty corridor. We all crowded through the door, the only sound greeting us the wood creaking and groaning beneath our feet.

We sat in the silence for a moment, listening hard, before Nels finally took a breath and said softly: “Neville? Neeeeville? You out there?”

Silence at first was all we heard, but as we took a few timid steps down the hall, dreading what each glance in a room may reveal, we heard something. Someone was moving around, the stirring of blankets, the shuffling of footsteps…

Matilde froze, and put her hands backwards, as though reaching for something to hold her steady. I darted forward, squeezing her hands reassuringly, and looked up at Nels. He had his fists clenched, ready for a fight. We stood impossibly still, almost crouching, our bodies tense…

But then, we heard a timid response; a soft, uneasy voice: “Is that you Nels?”

We all sighed, and stood straight again. It was just Dovesi.

“Yes, it’s us. Where are you? Are you okay?” he responded.

“I’m… I’m fine. What’s going on? Who’s us?” she called out.

“Why don’t you come out here and we’ll talk.” Nels was suspicious, I realized. He understood that Neville had not revealed himself yet, and he was supposed to be up here, all alone, with Dovesi…

“Oh, of course…” she said, and we listened as Dovesi opened the door into the hall, poking her head out cautiously at first, before walking slowly over to us. Her eyes were still clouded with sleep and the after effects of tears, her hair tousled and dress rumpled.

Her gaze darted quickly at us, taking in the three of us, and then glanced around.

“Where’s Neville?” she asked.

“We were just about to ask you that, Dovesi,” said Nels quietly.

“Now before we start this again, let’s just try to find him, shall we?” I interjected angrily.

“Find him?” Dovesi squeaked. “He’s… missing?”

There was a silence, and then I said slowly “Dovesi, have you seen Neville at all today?”

“Not since this morning, before you brought me upstairs,” she said quickly, her voice weak.

I turned to Nels and Matilde. “Did you see him come upstairs?” I asked them.

“I did,” said Matilde. “Before I went to the first floor, I saw him going up.”

“Well I was up here and I never saw him,” I said. “But I was with Dovesi for awhile, and he may have already been searching a room. I could have passed by him…”

We sat in silence again, I getting frustrated. Would I have to do everything?

“Well… I think we need to find him. We can’t just let him disappear, there‘s not far he could have gone. And maybe he found a way out of the house and didn’t tell us….” Nels made a grunt of disapproval. “Whatever the case may be, we need to find him, or some trace of him,” I finished.

“You’re right,” said Matilde. “Not knowing can be worse, anyways…”

Happy that things were finally going the way I wished, we all agreed to search together, not to split up. It was only going to be a moment now, it couldn’t possibly take them long to find his body, I thought with rising anticipation.

We let Nels lead the way, and he first checked Dovesi’s room, looking about thoroughly for signs of any suspicious activity. I saw she took great offense to this, her eyes narrowed and her expression stony. Eventually however, even Nels had to admit there was nothing to be found, and we left the room and walked across the hall.

My heart started to pound hard within my chest, blood rushing throughout my veins. The moment I had waited for so patiently was about to arrive… the moment of discovery…

Nels pushed the door open slowly, peering around the edge. It creaked and moaned, slowly swinging back… and when it reached about halfway, Nels stopped pushing it, but it continued to swing open heedlessly. He was stunned, motionless, and once the door was fully open, the other guests understood why.

It looked as though the wooden chest wasn’t waterproof, as some blood had leaked out onto the floor and stained scarlet the area surrounding the body of Neville. The only skin that could of him be seen was the back of his neck, but it was ghastly pale, and his body had an almost deflated look, as though it were drained.

There was a moment where what lay before us sunk in, each guest’s eyes drawn unwaveringly upon the body- but it was soon broken as Dovesi let out a shriek, while falling back against the wall dramatically. Matilde gasped and her hands flew to her mouth, and she looked as though she was going to be sick. She turned back into the hallway and started to gag.

I looked over at Nels- he had yet to move, his gaze still firmly rested upon Neville’s lifeless form. His eyes were cold, his faze stony. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. His theory that Primo’s death had indeed been a murder was now almost positively proven true, but he obviously was not too pleased at this revelation. I could only imagine where his thoughts were right now.

Glancing at their reactions, I realized that I only had a few seconds now to decide how I was going to play this…

And so I drew my hands over my mouth, holding back a scream, before closing my eyes as if I could not bear to look what lay within the room. I stuck my hands out blindly forward, grasping at the wall and stumbling. I turned away from the door and back into the hall, leaning my back against the wall and sliding down to a kneeling position on the ground.

Dovesi, who was still plastered almost theatrically against the wall, tears streaming down her face, slid down next to me, and I leaned my head over towards her slowly, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as I did so.

“I can’t believe… Neville… is he…” Dovesi blubbered, and Matilde breathed in deeply, her eyes closed.

There was silence, but it was suddenly burst by an angry, deep voice.

“The man is dead, you horse's boat! There's nothing more to tell!” Nels had turned about and his gaze was fiery. “You… you, left alone up here all day, with him! And he turns up dead! What do-”

“Nels!”

My voice was commanding, strong and forceful. He seemed stunned, as I had not showed this side of myself. There was a long silence before I spoke again.

“It could have been any of us,” I said quietly, my gaze downward.

“What are you talking about?” Matilde said quickly.

“Think about it… yes, Dovesi was left up here alone with him all day, but she also could have been sleeping, as she said. Matilde, you were on the second floor alone for at least an hour, you could have snuck up here… and Nels, you were up on the second floor alone as well! And I, I was as well… we all had the chance…”

“You did ask about him before I went downstairs!” Matilde said accusingly at Nels. “You wanted to know if he was still up here!”

“But you knew he was up here! How could you have known unless you had been up here, and if you’d been up here you would have had to have seen his body!” retorted Nels, firing up for a fight.

“Now really, nothing can be gained from quarrelling like this-” I started, but Dovesi suddenly jerked free of my grasp and stood up, tears streaming down her face.

“Two of us, dead! And I know, whether you believe me or not, that I didn’t do this! So who would do this?” Her eyes were darting around spasmodically, her entire body shaking. We were silent, watching her in fearful apprehension.

“And why? Is that why we're all here? To be killed like vermin? I feel like I'm going mad! I don't care about the gold anymore!“ She shrieked. “I just want to get out of here!”

She turned about wildly, and then seemed to come to a conclusion.

“I'm going to try all the windows and doors, and see if I can't get one open!” she shouted as she ran off down the hall. She was unable to keep in a straight line, as though she were drunk, and kept leaning up against the walls as she bumped heavily into them, before starting to go down the stairs. The three of us were too stunned to react at first, but as she thumped down the stairs the realization seemed to hit.

“Someone’s got to go after her,” I said, looking urgently at them. “She’s not safe in her condition…”

“I don’t care if she kills herself!” said Nels. I looked at him horrified, about to speak.

But then his face softened, and his gaze was far away. “I haven't seen death like this in a long, long time…It's a bit more than my nerves can handle, I'm afraid. I plan to gather up every drop of drink in this house and keep it to myself, if things get any worse around here.”

With a start, I suddenly realized why he had reacted so vehemently against Dovesi after Primo’s death. I remembered when I had first spoken with him, and he had said how she reminded him of his long lost daughter- he had been fond of her, had looked upon her as a replacement of his daughter almost… but then, in his eyes, she turned out to be a murderer! The mind really was a strange thing, I thought as I looked into his still slightly wrathful face.

I turned to look at Matilde, but she just stared back, eyes wide. I had to act quickly, or Dovesi could ruin everything. Even if she couldn’t manage to get out, she would make enough noise to attract outside ears, and I certainly could not let that happen…

“Alright, well I’m going to make sure she’s okay. Please don’t separate, I don’t know what I’d do if… if…” I said quickly, and Matilde nodded emphatically, her face fearful.

Nels just closed the door to Neville’s room, in a final sort of way.

“We’ll take care of… of this,” he said, gesturing back towards Neville’s room. I nodded, and he watched as I started off at a quick pace down the stairs and towards the sounds of Dovesi’s movements.

I got off the second staircase leading to the first floor, and looked round to see Dovesi holding a chair high above her head, just about to throw it through a window. Before I had time to utter a sound, she had chucked it hard into the glass.

Only the upper area of window shattered completely, revealing a blue, cloudless sky. It was not enough space to fit a body through, and Dovesi started frantically clawing at the hole, trying to widen the opening. It was thick glass, at least a inch and a half, but her desperation made the process much quicker.

If I didn’t act quickly, she was going to ruin everything. This stupid, foolish girl! Falling in love with a man she had just barely met, over dramatizing everything, unable to keep her head straight when things got tough, just breaking down like a little child! She was such a selfish, self-centered little brat- a pathetic excuse for a woman, for a Dunmer, and for anything with any shred of intelligence! And now, now she was about to ruin everything I had worked for by having a nervous breakdown? No, I could not, would not let her!

I had lost all control in my fury; something had arisen within my soul, in my very being… and before I could pause to think about what I was doing, I was striding toward Dovesi, my anger and bloodlust that had been held back so long now fully released, unable to be contained any longer. Almost in a trance, I saw on the ground in front of me a piece of broken glass, in the shape of a long triangle, thick enough to stay sturdy, but sharp enough to slice the skin…

I kneeled down quickly to pick it up, savoring the feel of the heavy, jagged glass in the grasp of my hand, and took two more steps at Dovesi’s back, time slowing and my head filled with the beating of my heart, the deep rasping of my breath, and of hers…

And I drew back the piece of colored glass, taking in a deep shuddering breath of pure ecstasy, the sunlight reflecting the glass in a myriad of colors against the wall…

Time seem to come to a complete standstill as I had reached the end of my backstroke, my hand grasping the glass, about to strike forward towards the unscathed flesh of her back. I held my breath for that instant, the last second before the kill…

And as though a sudden fast-forward of time had taken place, I let the breath out and simultaneously drove my crude dagger into her back. I struck just below the neck, digging in deeply, shattering bone and puncturing lung and vein.

Dovesi’s body stopped mid-motion, her arm still upraised to tear at the opening in the glass window. There was a choking sound, a deep guttural heave as she tried to draw breath. My heart was racing and my breath was short as I watched her turn slowly about, stumbling slightly, to face me.

When her eyes met mine I saw a flash of surprise, of complete shock… and the look of a victim of betrayal at it‘s darkest meaning. But an instant later it turned to one of such intense pain that I knew she would have been screaming, had she been capable of doing so.

She held my gaze as she fell to the floor, the light leaving her eyes so quickly that I could almost feel the rushing shadow of the void coming to meet her at her life’s end. I held eye contact until the last second, where she tried to take one last breath before slumping down amongst the shattered window, her eyes glassy and unseeing.

I stood for another two seconds, completely immersed and fulfilled by this long awaited kill, before I realized the situation. If Matilde and Nels came down the stairs to see what all the noise had been caused by, everything would be ruined, it would be all too obvious that I was the killer. I had to act quickly… and it seemed there was only one thing for me to do.

I darted back to the stairs, angled myself so it seemed I had been walking down them again… and let out a high pitched, ear splitting scream.

I immediately heard the thumping sound of footsteps from above, and proceeded to slid down the wall, curl up, and continue screaming and sobbing. I distinctly heard two sets of footsteps coming down from the third floor, but only Matilde appeared at the top of the flight of stairs leading to the first floor. She descended quickly, her face full of concern.

“Oh my, what is it now deary?” she said, kneeling down beside me and clutching my elbows. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, trying to force tears out but failing dismally, so I instead pointed a quivering finger toward Dovesi’s body. She had fallen backwards, pushing the glass dagger all the way up through the center of her chest, it’s point scarlet and still clinging to chunks of her innards.

Matilde let out a gasp that turned into a short of shriek, and she looked back at me with fearful eyes.

“They must be hiding in the house somewhere, whoever did this! This just happened, they must be close by!” she exclaimed, casting her eyes fearfully about the room.

She really was dimwitted, I thought scornfully. But I was glad of it in this instance…

“They could be anywhere… anywhere! Just waiting for us to walk by…” I saw in Matilde the panicked, distraught look that Dovesi had just portrayed moments ago. She stood quickly and started pacing, darting her head about incessantly.

“Oh, I just can’t take it anymore, I have to get out of here!” she exclaimed suddenly, her voice ear splitting. And before I could speak, she was running towards the front door, emitting little sobs as she went. I turned quickly and looked up the stairs, trying to figure out where the hell Nels was… I had to kill Matilde, she was causing a racket, but I couldn’t let him see…

She was pounding on the door, screaming and shouting for aid, kicking and slapping… Nels was nowhere in sight, and so I tried to listen for him, to see if he was coming down the stairs. Yet after a quick moment of this I could not hear anything over Matilde’s exclamations of hysteria… the woman was an incessant nag… and seconds later I lost my patience. Under my breath, I muttered threateningly “Shut….up…”

And I pulled my dagger from the sheath hidden on my leg, eyes fiery and fingers clenched tightly around the hilt. I could not wait any longer to find Nels, if she wasn’t silenced soon the whole town would come barging through the door… things had gotten out of hand so quickly…

With all the passion, all the anger and all the fury I possessed, I took aim and hurled the dagger at Matilde with a cry of sadistic triumph. It struck her straight in the back of the head, and having been thrown with such force, went straight through her skull and into the door, quivering slightly from the impact. Her body went limp, and yet it was still held up by the dagger. She looked almost like a floppy rag doll of some sorts.

I was panting, trying to control my breathing, the anger still brewing within me. I forced my breath down to shorter gasps and darted back to the stairs, in case Nels would look over the edge of the balcony. I leaned my head backwards and closed my eyes, regaining control of my consciousness. It was times like those, while killing Dovesi and Matilde, that I truly felt as if my soul was being overtaken by some force, a sadistic being full of a never saturated thirst for blood, which I could not control.

But there were other matters that needed attending to, I thought brusquely. Nels was still out there…

I climbed the stairs slowly, hand resting upon my second dagger. I was tense, ready, in case Nels had witnessed the murder and was trying to surprise me. There was five steps left… four… three…two…

And as I poked my head up over the edge of the stairs to look onto the second floor, I found Nels in clear sight, sitting at the table, mug of ale in hand. There was three bottles already in front of him, and he seemed to be downing them at record speed. I walked up the last step, slowly making my way to the table, my gaze never leaving his hunched over form.

As I drew closer he raised his face to meet mine, his eyes already starting to turn bloodshot. His look was mild and sardonic, and his head bobbed a little as he spoke.

“Please, not now. I just want to be by myself for a bit…” he said. Looking him directly in the eye, I took a step closer.

His face darkened, but he did raise his voice or move a muscle. After a moment of eye contact, a fierce battle of stares, he turned away first.

“Fine,” he said, and he drew the mug to his lips and gulped down deeply, some spilling and drizzling down his chin.

I walked around the table and came to sit next to him, while carefully slipping a vial of poison from within my skirts and palming it. He lowered his mug and watched me. I smiled satirically.

“Let me drink with you,” I said.

He nodded, and gestured to the ample amount of alcohol on the table before us. As I was reaching across Nels’ torso for a bottle of wine, I let my sleeve fall and block his view of his mug of ale. While my hand passed over the ale, I dumped as much from the little vial as I could manage into the mug. A drop would have been enough, but it would have been a slow, prolonged death…

I made sure to slip the vial securely back up my sleeve before drawing my arm back, clutching the bottle of wine. I uncorked it and held it up, looking at him expectantly. He raised his mug and clinked it against my drink, and we both took deeps swigs of the liquor. We sat in silence, I awaiting the moment when his eyes would start to flicker, just as though he were falling asleep… But it did not come.

He turned to me several moments later. He was smiling, but it was a humorless look that did not reach his eyes.

“You want to know something, my friend?” he said, his voice throaty. I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

“I just don't care anymore. We're the only two left. I know I didn't kill those people, so that leaves you.” I held his gaze unwaveringly, never looking away. My expression did not change; my eyes were blank and could not be read. They were cold and dark; colder than they had ever been. That, he could see.

“So now you're here to kill me, right?” There was no denying it. I inclined my head slowly, but still kept eye contact. He swallowed deeply, but did not make any other motion.

“I have but one thing to ask,” he said after a few seconds. “Please, make it quick. I wish to see my daughter again, with all my heart… do not make me wait any longer…” his voice cracked.

My eyes continued to watch him, expression unyielding. He looked up at me, pleading almost, and I spoke after a moment, my voice even.

“I killed you five minutes ago.”

His face became confused, perplexed- but I looked at his mug, and he followed my gaze. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair. It wouldn’t be long now…

“Sleep…” I murmured. “It’s time to sleep…”

He breathed out heavily, and starting to breath in again… but then seemed to think better of it. His lips turned up in the corners, almost a smile, and his body became still. He was finally at peace. He was going to see his daughter again.

After a moment I leaned forward and touched his forehead lightly, before softly closing this still open eyelids with the back of my index finger. I leaned back in my chair.

The fifth and final soul had joined Sithis in the void.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Thirteen: The After Party

My four day return journey to the Sanctuary was one in a suspended state of elation- almost like a high, a drug. I relived each and every moment of the events in Summitmist Manor, each recounted murder sending a fresh chill through my blood. The weather was foul, with pouring rain and raging winds, yet my mood remained positive.

I had left the manor as it had been at the moment of Nels’ death- I of course brought my clothes and supplies home, but decided to leave my murder weapons with their victims. The five guests still lay where I last saw them- Neville in his room, Primo beneath the sheet, Nels at the table, Dovesi in the foyer with the glass knife in her back, and finally… Matilde still hanging from the front door, held up by the dagger impaled through her skull into the wood. The thought that when someone finally entered the house, however long from now, the first thing that would greet them would be the decaying corpse of an old woman hanging from the door, her eyes glassy and pained, her expression still a bit surprised… I fervently wished I could be there for that moment.

But I had left the house when night had fallen, careful not to be spotted as I exited through the front door (obviously not the one with Matilde sticking to it). Unfortunately there seemed to be some sort of gathering in the wine fields; all the workers were gathered around a bonfire or sorts, laughing and drinking and dancing. This meant that my chances of hopping on a horse and riding off unnoticed were very small, and I didn’t want to take the risk…especially if other things were discovered. The dagger currently on a sheath on my waist was a near exact replica of the one in Matilde’s head. Probably not the most logical decision to leave it there, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin such a beautiful scene.

And so I entered the Sanctuary four days later just as the sun was setting, a heavy fog descending among throughout the streets of Cheydinhaal. After descending dwon the well ladder, I walked into the hall and immediately spotted Teinaava seated at his favorite chair, book open in his lap. He looked up and smiled widely as I met his gaze, his eyes glowing.

“You’ve returned! And all in one piece… which I presume cannot be said of your fellow guests?”

I gave a wicked grin, and he returned it with an equally malicious smile.

“Ah, well I’m sure Ocheeva would like to speak with you, and your reward awaits. When you are done there, however, there is something I wish to discuss with you. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” I replied.

“Excellent- share a meal with me?”

“Of course, dear brother,” I smiled warmly.

He nodded and gave me a last, lingering gaze, before turning and heading to the doors at the other end of the room.

I knew what (or rather, whom) he wished to speak with me about- Antoinetta Marie. I had not forgotten the reveal of our feud, and I knew that Teinaava wouldn’t either. Telaendril and Gogron may have passed it off with my simple explanation, but Teinaava knew better. For first time not looking forward to time spent with Teinaava, I knocked upon the thick doors leading into Ocheeva’s quarters.

“Yes, come in.”

I opened the door and strode into her room; she was seated at her table, eating a dinner of mutton and bread. Her mouth was rimmed in the blood of the meat, and she licked her lips clean before standing and smiling at me.

“Dear sister! Were you successful in your ah…goals?” she asked carefully. But her eyes gave it away- she already knew I had been. As Lucien Lachance had once said, the Dark Brotherhood knew a great many things…

I nodded, and she walked forward and put her hands on my shoulders in a congratulatory way.

“Well done! Not only did you kill the five guests, you acted as an agent of terror and grief. You have earned your reward and bonus, Assassin,” she said.

“The act was reward enough, my friend,” I said sincerely. She smiled in understanding, but continued on.

“Regardless, I lay upon you now the Night Mother's Blessing. May she walk with you always, and guide your hand as you act in accordance with the Five Tenets…”
Ocheeva raised her hands above her shoulders, palms facing me, and closed her eyes, her hands starting to glow softly blue as slowly brought them down to her waist. I felt a chill run down within me from head to toe, and I too closed my eyes as a glittering blue light passed over me.

When I opened my eyes again, I could immediately feel the change within myself. The room seemed more clear, as though I could see in the dark. I felt that my hands were steadier, as if I had perfect control. And not just my hands; I felt more in tune with my entire body, from my eyes right down to my toes. I raised my arms up to look at my hands, marveling at the precise way I could manipulate each muscle. Ocheeva smiled at the wonderment in my eyes, and stepped back as I walked forward a bit. My steps were silent, my movement lithe and nimble. I felt strange, different; yet in a good way. This… this was bloody brilliant!

“You have my most sincerest thanks, dear sister,” I said fervently.

Her smile widened at my enthusiasm.

“It is indeed a most honorable gift, my dear sister. One you should be very proud to have received. I’m afraid I have some pressing matters that I must attend to, but before I go, there is something I would wish to ask you.” Ocheeva narrowed her eyes in an almost analytical manner, before continuing.

“I hear talk of a feud between you and our sister, Antoin-” I interrupting her, sighing deeply, exasperatedly. She stopped speaking, widening her eyes questioningly.

“Teinaava mentioned this to you?” I said. My tone was sharp; I was surprised at the feeling of resentment I had towards my most dear brother. I had wanted to keep this between Antoinetta and I, but she had drawn in some of the rest of the family… and Teinaava was now only helping to spread it. I looked up, and found that Ocheeva was watching me closely.

“Do not be angered with him, please my sister- he only spoke to me out of concern for your wellbeing. He cares for you, and he cares for this Sanctuary. He just does not wish anything bad to happen. All the great guilds, the Great Houses- they all fell from the inside out…”

I let out a deep breath and was silent for a moment. She was right, he was only trying to help.

“I apologize- you are right, of course. And don’t worry, I’ve already made plans to speak with Teinaava about this matter, once we are done here.”

“Then we both have family members awaiting our presence, and should not keep
them waiting any longer.”

We exchanged our farewells and both left the room- she heading to the right, I the left. I found Teinaava at the round table, placing two overflowing plates of food down. They were both piled high with breads, cheese, and meats. I smiled and rolled my eyes in amusement at him, and sat in the chair Teinaava offered. We both ate ravenously, accompanied an only slightly awkward silence. Once our stomachs began to fill, we both leaned back and held our stomachs appreciatively. After a moment, Teinaava turned to me.

“I think you know what I want to talk about, dear sister Adrienne,” he started.

“That twat, Antoinetta Marie,” I spat out.

He grinned at my rather brutal response, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well I‘ll start off by saying that her little outburst before you left was a surprise. I never would have guessed that you two were having problems,” he said slowly.

“She’s been careful about making revealing her feelings to anyone but me.”

“Yes… none of us, not Telaendril, Gogron nor Ocheeva had even a suspicion of this feud. We always thought our family was one without rifts… except for M’raaj Dar, but he hates everyone.”

We both smiled a bit, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I took a moment before responding.

“There really isn’t much for me to say about this, except that she is a dark sister held in high regard, and therefore has no reason to be envious of me. She’s handling the situation in a completely irrational manner, and judging from this I don’t regret our lack of affection for each other. She has made her choice, I have accepted it, and that’s all I will say of the matter.”

Teinaava pivoted himself quickly in the chair to face me, his eyes focused on my face.

“That is true. But there is one last thing I would like to know…“ I nodded slowly. He continued.

“Now please, tell me the truth. How long has this been going on? When was the first time she seemed… hostile towards you?”

I felt my eyes widen. He was watching me closely, and his lips upturned slightly at the corners at my reaction, as though he had been expecting it. He seemed to know how this point had often been on my mind as well- Antoinetta seemed to have hated me from the moment we met. But that made no sense- if her hatred was based on jealousy, logic would follow that she could not hate me until I had beaten her in something. And what had a I beaten her at within seconds of our introduction? Once I had been promoted past her, I could understand her animosity. But this had been a problem long before then.

Yet at this time in my life, I was unwilling to admit it.

“Truthfully, I cannot exactly recall when her distaste for me started.”

Teinaava looked disappointed, but he did not pursue the matter after that. We lapsed into more comfortable talk, and I was starting to describe my time at Summitmist Manor a little over an hour later when Gogron Gro-Bolmog and Telaendril entered the room.

Gogron was carrying a heavy crate, but when he saw me he practically threw it into Telaendril’s arms and started toward me. He charged over and swept me up in a bone-crushing hug. Gasping for breath, I peered through the small opening I had between the crook of his shoulder and his thick neck to see Telaendril shaking her head in exasperation, balancing the huge crate. He released me just as my face was starting to turn blue, and clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“You’re back! Not that I was worried, I’m sure you could have handled plenty more! But still, you were missed,” he boomed.

Telaendril set the crate down carefully on the bench, and I heard it’s contents
clinking together. She walked over, smiling.

“Although I don’t offer quite as an enthusiastic welcome, I am still glad to see you, dear sister.”

We all laughed lightly, and Gogron and Telaendril sat down across Teinaava and I at the round table. Gogron immediately demanded that I rehash each and every gory detail of my contract at Summitmist Manor, leaving nothing out. I was just starting my tale again when Telaendril suddenly let out an exclamation. We all turned to look at her in bewilderment, but she just smiled and stood up quickly.

“I have an idea…” she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. We watched as she went to the wooden crate on the bench. Gogron seemed to understand then, and gave an appreciative chuckle. Teinaava and I exchanged baffled looks.

Telaendril drew a slender dagger from within the folds of a skirt she was wearing, and shoved it under the lid of the crate, methodically prying around the edges. She lifted the lid off and stuck her hands in, amongst the sounds of clinking glass. And quite suddenly I understood, a split second before her hand reappeared with the bottles.

“For a celebration!” she exclaimed, triumphantly holding up the bottles of ale.

I was never much of a drinker- it just seemed pathetic when done alone, and I’d never really had anyone to drink with. Not to say I’ve never had alcohol, but I couldn’t say whether or not I’d ever been completely drunk before.

Gogron gave a whoop of pleasure and immediately grabbed a bottle of ale for each hand. Telaendril passed each I and Teinaava a bottle, and kept one for herself. We gathered round the table, snapping the stoppers out of our the ale. Teinaava raised his bottle.

“To Adrienne, our Sanctuary’s dark gift!” he exclaimed, and then took a deep drink of the ale.

I felt my heart glow with pride as my family members raised their glasses up above their shoulders in my honor, the glowing torches reflecting off the smooth surface of the bottle, reflecting across to the opposite wall. The bottles clinked together above the table, and we all leaned back and drank deeply. I was the first to surface, and a moment later Telaendril pulled her glass away from her lips as well. We both looked at Teinaava and Gogron, who were still chugging away at the ale. I noticed they kept glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Telaendril seemed to notice this too, and we
exchanged an amused eye roll. Men.

After another moment of slurping and swallowing noises later, Gogron thrust his bottle fiercely down on the table and threw his head back for a huge gasp of victory. Although Gorgon’s win was rather predictable, I have to give Teinaava credit- he was only seconds behind. Gogron uncorked his second bottle of ale and walked back to get the crate. He dropped it down in the center of the table, his face a huge, slobbery grin. He passed Teinaava a bottle, and then looked at Telaendril’s and my nearly full bottles with narrowed eyes. He shook his head woefully, as though disappointed in our efforts, and leaned back in his chair.

“Now we are ready to hear your story!”

“So you did kill all of them, without their suspicion?” asked Telaendril, awe in her voice.

I nodded, grinning a bit sheepishly.

“Excellent!” roared Gogron. “Now get on with it, I want the gory details!”

I started to tell my tale, but I was just beginning a describing my meeting with Primo when I was interrupted… again.

“Ho there!” Gogron had just finished his second ale, and was leaning forward in his chair, eyes gleaming intensely.

“I propose that we live this up… with a game!”

“What sort of game?” Teinaava asked, narrowing his eyes warily.

“A drinking game, of course!”

“I, for one, truly just want to hear Adrienne’s story-” Telaendril started.

“Yes, yes of course, I meant we can make it part of her story!” Gogron boomed excitedly.

We all stared at him, faces blank. He swiveled his head to look at all of us, and then rolled his eyes in an over exaggerated manner as a response to our silence.

“Each time Adrienne tells us about a kill, we must all drink a whole bottle of ale! And the loser must drink another!”

“Now Gogron-”

“I’m in!” exclaimed Teinaava, interrupted Telaendril.

I looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged.

“Ocheeva’s gone to a secret meeting, so she probably won’t be back till tomorrow…” he explained, grinning.

“I’m in too,” I said, and Teinaava’s smile widened.

Telaendril looked around at us, her wide eyes half disgusted, half amused. We all stared at her expectantly, and after a moment she let out a huge sigh- but she was smiling.

“Oh all right!”

We all gave a whoop of success and finished what remained in our bottles while I talked, and we all made sure to have a full bottle ready as my tale once again reached the first death. And as I told the story of Primo’s death, we all glanced around at each other expectantly, uncorking bottles, fingers gripping the bottle tightly in anticipation…

“…and as he hit the bottom of the stairs, I heard his neck snap, and his head faced up towards the ceiling,” I finished dramatically.

There was a moment of silence, and then all at once we threw our heads back and started to drink, chugging wildly. I quickly fell behind, and was only a quarter of the way done with my bottle when Gogron finished his. Teinaava finished soon after, and then a little later Telaendril. When I finally set my bottle down, what felt like ages later, there was once again a moment of silence.

…But this time it was broken by laughter. Loud, uproarious, unrestrained laughter. At first I was irritated, but their laughter was infectious and I couldn’t help but join in. We were all laughing a bit louder, and at a bit higher pitch than normal. I would have felt bad for anyone who was sober that had to listen to us.

“You…are the worst… drinker.. I have ever seen!” Gogron managed to choke out, amidst fits of uncontrollable sniggers.

I glared at him, but in my slightly intoxicated state it came out as a sort of half-winking, smirking face, causing everyone to laugh harder.

“You’ve only had two!” exclaimed Teinaava, hissing in enjoyment.

“Yesh…” Oh my, I really was a terrible drinker- I was slurring already! Internally, I fiercely told myself to keep it together; I took a moment to focus, and then held up the empty bottle. “But the bottles are big!”

“And now you have to drink another!” Gogron said, and he handed me another full bottle, grinning devilishly.

I groaned, but that only made the carbonation churn unpleasantly about my stomach, so I refrained from doing so again. I took the bottle and drank it as quickly as I could, and was pleased that I finished a bit faster than last time.

By that time, my family members had calmed down, and actually seemed eager to hear the rest of my story. I continued, but with less detail then last time- and perhaps a slightly more basic vocabulary. I nearly beat Telaendril in the second round, but still had to drink another two ales. The room was starting to become a bit wobbly, and my story-telling skills were probably not up to par, but they insisted I continue.

I actually came in second for the drinking round after the kill of Dovesi, and was quite happy with myself. But the death of Matilde followed closely after, and I lost in that round once again.

Now having drank a grand total of eight bottles, I was pretty unable to form a coherent sentence. But I suppose my basic survival instincts were still functioning, as they realized I needed a bit more time if I didn’t want to finish last in the final drinking round.

“And then I walkzed up one schtep… and then I walkzed up the schecond schtep… and the third! That wasch a tricksy one, let me tell you…” And so on.

I continued like this for at least a few minutes, and my family members remained enraptured heedless of the obvious over embellishment. When I finally started to describe my poisoning of Nels, Gogron passed around the bottles. Everyone had difficulty uncorking them (Teinaava ended savagely ripping his open with his teeth), but by the time I told of Nels’ death we were all ready. We raised our bottles in unison, and then brought them to our mouths clumsily to begin the race.

I was chugging for all I was worth, willing myself not to throw up, praying to Sithis that I would not loose. And I my prayers were heeded- Telaendril started to cough when I was about half way done, and in the time it took her to recover I finished my bottle, slamming it down on the table in victory. This actually resulted in it bouncing a bit and rolling off to shatter on the floor, but we paid no attention. We made Telaendril drink her final bottle, and then joined together at an odd drunken cheer. I was mostly cheering because the contest was over.

And then quite suddenly, Gogron burst into tears.

We were all stunned, even in our various levels of intoxication, into silence. We watched as Gogron leaned over, his body wracking with huge sobs, and wrapped his arms around Telaendril. She seemed too surprised to move, but after a moment she cautiously reached her arm as far onto his back as she could go (which was not far, because of his considerable girth) and patted him gently.

“Poor… poor Nels!” he said.

If we were stunned before, it was nothing compared to this. Was Gogron, the Orc who murdered a five year old girl at her birthday party, feeling sorry for one of the victims of the Dark Brotherhood?

“He’s just-just-just like my baby rabbit!” he stuttered out.

I swear, I never knew a room of drunkards could become so quiet.

“Binky…oh poor, sweet Binky!” Gogron continued to sob.

“How in the name of Sithis does ‘Nels’ remind you of ‘Binky’?” asked Teinaava.

“How could it not?! Binky…Nels…” We all looked at him blankly. He tried again.

“Binky….Nels…Binky…Nels!” His face was so serious that it was comical.

And for some reason, this was uproariously funny, and next thing I knew we were all laughing again. Laughing because I had finished my contract and returned safetly; because Gogron thought ‘Nels’ and ‘Binky’ sounded alike; because Gogron had a pet rabbit named ‘Binky’ and was crying about it… but mostly because we were all incredibly drunk.

After a moment, Gogron started laughing as well. And his laughter had reached the squeaky obnoxious stage that everyone’s else’s had- except that it was so out of the ordinary to hear the normally deep voiced Orc squeak that we all laughed even harder.

And the rest of the night passed in a haze of more drinking, linked arm dancing and singing, several secrets confessed (although none would be remembered in the morning), and an obscene amount of drunken laughter.

……………………………….

“What in the name of Sithis is going on here?!”

My eyes snapped open. I look straight up into a chandelier, and as the light flooded in my head felt like it was going to explode… so I promptly shut my eyes. Ow.

I heard moans of pain and discomfort nearby, and slowly opened my eyes once again, squinting. I was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, amongst what looked like a battlefield of broken bottles. I painfully rotated my head a bit to see Telaendril at my
right; she was the source of the moans. She had tried to open her eyes too.

Keeping my eyes barely open, I looked around the rest of the room. Teinaava was lying across the bench to the rectangular table, while Gogron crumpled in a heap on top of the round table. I had a sudden flash of Gogron dancing on the table the nigh before…

“Everyone get up- right now!”

“Aaaarrghhh!” Four voices cried out in unison at the volume of Ocheeva’s shouts. There was no response, so we all turned to look at her. She was standing at the entrance to room with such a glare on her face that I swear Sithis himself would have cowered in fear. We all stood as quickly as we could manage, our heads pounding intensely.

“I am disgusted! I leave for one night and I return to find the Sanctuary in shambles! This is a disgrace! You call yourselves members of the Dark Brotherhood, but this…” She gestured around feverishly, hands quivering.

“All work and no play…” Teinaava chanted, still slightly sluggish, but then trailed off.

There was a silence, where Ocheeva just looked at him in revulsion, and we all waited for him to continue. He, however, was opening and closing his eyes repetitively, seeming to have totally lost his train of thought.

“Well? All work and no play what?” said Ocheeva finally, her tone threatening.

Another silence, where Teinaava looked like he was concentrating very hard. But suddenly, he let out a snort of indifference.

“ I don’t know what,” he slurred out. Ocheeva widened her eyes in fury while the rest of us started to laugh uproariously. But that didn’t last long when we realized how much it hurt our aching heads.

“You will clean this mess up, and if I find so much as a shard of glass on the floor when I get back…” She glared around at the group, and we all hung our heads. “Now Adrienne, I need to talk with you. Come with me,” she said sternly, and I gave my family members a nervous, confused look, which they returned with obvious pity, before following Ocheeva up the hallway.

Ocheeva was silent as we walked, and I could not see her expression; I expected it wasn’t cheery though. I wasn’t about to be the one to speak, first so we reached her room in what I felt to be quite a bit of angered tension.

You can only imagine how surprised I was when I turned from having shut the doors behind me and found Ocheeva to be smiling broadly, body shaking silently.

I opened and closed my eyes several times, but this was no trick of the light- Ocheeva was laughing. Hard.

“I’m sorry…” she managed to get out between silent giggles. She held a hand up, the other grasping her stomach. “Just… give me a minute…”

To say I was astonished was an understatement, but I waited for a moment until she could collect herself.

“Once again, I apologize dear sister,” she said, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“I thought you were… angry,” I said cautiously.

“No, no, quite the opposite actually. You should have seen the scene I walked into this morning- Gogron spread eagle on the table, Teinaava hanging off a bench, you and Telaendril on the floor, bottles everywhere… I had to leave the room for a moment to compose myself, before coming back to wake you all.”

I must have still had a confused look on my face, so she grinned and continued.

“I have been set to lead this Sanctuary, and so it is my duty to discipline those who… misbehave. I acted how I was expected to behave, in that situation.” She leaned in, and lowered her voice a bit. “But between you and me, dear sister, I wish I could have been there- I’m sure it was an interesting night.”

I thought of Gogron’s bunny, of the group singing together later on in the night laughed with her, Telaendril’s admission that she was madly in love with Gogron (although I think I was the only one who remembered that), and replied: “Indeed it was, dear sister.”

“I’m sure- although it would have been very amusing to see what Vicente’s reaction to all of this might have been.“

I realized that I had not seen Vicente since I had returned.

“Where is Vicente? I haven’t seen him since before I left.”

“He has been sent on a contract involving a target who shares his, ah, condition. He’s not expected back for a few days yet,” she replied. I nodded, and she began to speak again, her tone more official.

“All else aside, there is something very important that I must speak with you about. When you're ready, I have a most important contract. One that has been sanctioned
by the Black Hand itself.”

My eyes widened, and I felt my breath short in the my chest. The Black Hand? The leading organization of the Dark Brotherhood? This must be a very important person- and I had been their choice to take his life. This was a great honor. I nodded briefly, trying to conceal my excitement.

“Do you recall the name Adamus Phillida?” I shook my head. “The Imperial Legion pest?” I shrugged again, the name not ringing any bells. “In any case, it's time he joined Sithis in the Void.”

“What has he done to anger the Brotherhood?” I asked.

“Adamus Phillida has spent his entire career investigating the Dark Brotherhood, interrupting our contracts, killing our family members!” Ocheeva spat out, the distaste evident in her expression. “We’ve tried to eliminate him, of course, but failed on three separate occasions.” I raised my eyebrows at this- I had heard of failed contracts, of course- but trying to kill one man three times, and failing at each one? He must be very important indeed.

“Yes, he's a powerful man, and was surrounded by powerful associates. Now the Legion pig's years of service have come to an end. He has retired. Phillida must not be allowed such a victory! His destiny is... darker.” She gave a smug smile at this thought.
“And so it is time he joined Sithis in the Void… do you think you're up to the task?”

“It would be an honor. I accept.” And it truly was- if the Brotherhood had failed three times before in his murder, I don’t think they would have taken the choice on who to send the fourth time lightly.

“It is even more an honor than you realize,” she said softly. “The Black Hand has sanctioned the Rose of Sithis.”

I gave her a quizzical look, and she gestured towards the small table behind me. Sitting on it was an arrow, a bit longer than the sort I normally used, and colored in a dark red. It had a thick rounded point, and an intricately designed fletching. I turned and picked the arrow up carefully, looking at it closer. It was very balanced, light yet heavy. Ocheeva continued, smiling slightly as I inspected the arrow.

“It is a magic arrow specifically enchanted to kill its target. And in this case, the target is Phillida. As long as the arrow pierces Phillida‘s flesh, he will die. But it has it’s weakness- it cannot pierce armor! Shoot while Phillida is armored, and the Rose will be wasted.”

“This a powerful weapon,” I said quietly, holding it with a new sense of respect.

“I am confident that you will not let it‘s power be wasted.” There was a moment of silence in which I tried to come up with a suitable reply, but then she continued.

“Now Phillida resides in Leyawiin, in the City Watch barracks, an honored guest of the soldiers there. Travel to Leyawiin. Track Phillida. Learn his schedule. Observe when he removes that blasted Legion armor! And then, let fly the Rose of Sithis!” she exclaimed, a fire in her eyes.

“Kill Phillida in any way-” she went on.. “-Rose or not, and the contract is complete… but to receive a bonus, you must go beyond murder. You must send a message! Once Phillida is dead, take the very finger from his corpse, the one that bears an Imperial Legion signet ring! Deposit this finger in the desk of Phillida's successor, in his office in the Prison Barracks, in the Imperial City! Do this, and the bonus is yours!”

“I will not let you down, dear sister. Or the Black Hand.”

“I would not expect you too,” she said, nodding her head. “Now go- Adamus Phillida will find no rest in retirement. No, his soul will endure a kind of eternal suffering known only to those who have angered Sithis…”

……………………………….

I was ready to leave by evening- I had returned to the Living Quarters and aided Telaendril, Gogron and Teinaava to clean up the mess we had made… and together recovered from our rather intense hangovers. While doing so, I told them of my contract. Each had congratulated me heartily, and offered their advice.

“The Rose of Sithis! Such an honor! Just make sure your marksmanship is up to the task. If you miss the target, the enchantment will be wasted,” Telaendril had said, to which Teinaava added;

“And the Rose will only work if Phillida is unarmored- so, when would a soldier not wear his armor? I only take my armor off to sleep or swim…”

Gogron scoffed at them both, and gave his opinion.

“Don't get me wrong, that magic arrow sounds nice and all, but it seems to me like you don't even need to use it to get the bonus. As long as you cut off his finger and leave it in that desk, you'll get your extra goodies. Sounds to me like you can kill the old sod anyway you'd like. So what if he's wearing armor! You think that Imperial Legion scrap can stop a well-forged claymore? Not bloody likely!” And he had laughed heartily.

I had packed lightly for the rather long journey, anticipating the humid and rainy weather. I brought my best bow, a few throwing daggers, and the Blade of Woe- even though I did have a more powerful dagger, it had a certain sentimental value.

After eating a hasty dinner, I decided to leave and travel through the night- it was cool, the air was crisp and clear, and the moons shined down brilliantly, creating a myriad of shapes and shadows in the dark.

I climbed out of the well, locking it securely behind me, and turned towards the street. I could see no one out, but I had a feeling… just a sense, that someone was watching me. That someone was nearby. I started to walk cautiously towards the street, treading carefully on the long grass. A sound came from behind me and I turned about quickly, drawing my dagger in a quick motion.

Leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the Abandoned House, arms folded across her chest… was Antoinetta Marie.

When I saw her she pushed off the wall casually, taking a few steps forward.

“Fancy seeing you out here, my dear sister,” she said, spitting the last bit out.

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” I replied while slipping my dagger back into it‘s sheath, my tone even.

I found it very odd that she had known I was coming- I doubted it was a coincidence that I had run into her here. I wondered if she had been sitting out here all day, waiting for me to exit. But that wouldn’t make sense- how could she have known that I was going to be leaving soon? Teinaava had mentioned that he hadn’t seen her all day, so she couldn’t have overheard our conversations… unless she had been hiding in the shadows again, watching and listening…

“So, you’ve sent to assassinate Adamus Phillida?” she said, her voice mocking.

Well that answered my questions. I didn’t answer, but she already knew.

“Oh, finally Ocheeva has come to her senses! You'll be killed, just like the last three that have tried, and we'll finally be rid of you!” she exclaimed, her voice venomous and eyes dark.

I felt a rage awaken with in me, the fury coming in waves and tides- and I took a sudden, violent step towards her. Her eyes seemed to grow apprehensive, and I stepped forward again, enjoying her fear and alarm. She took a step back and found herself against the wall.

I stopped a few feet from her, my gaze full of hatred and fire. I truly wanted to kill her; right there and then, I wanted to stab her in the heart, to impale her with an arrow, to decapitate her with a slice of my sword… but I knew I couldn’t. My loyalty to the Brotherhood ran deeper than my hatred of Antoinetta.

And so after a few deep breaths, nearly shaking with anger, I started to turn and walk away.

“You know you wouldn’t be able to kill me if you tried. I don’t know what the Black Hand, what Lucien Lachance sees in you, but-”

I turned back so quickly that she faltered in her speech, and I drew in until my face was mere inches from hers. Her face once again grew fearful and she tried to lean back further, but the wall stopped her.

“You’re only so brave because you know the Tenets prevent me from killing you where you stand,” I said quickly, my voice dark and savage.

And I could tell that she knew I was speaking the complete and total truth, as her eyes grew even more frightened for a moment. But then they seemed to clear of the fear, and she stepped forward, forcing me to step back.

“Then why don’t you do it?” Her voice was like a honey, soaking over me, drawing you in with it‘s smooth eloquence. “No one is about, no one will know…just do it…”

And suddenly, quite out of my control, I felt my hand slowly moving towards the dagger at my waist. I was in an almost trancelike state, my vision clouded… I felt my fingers curling around the smooth, cool metal of the hilt of my dagger, felt myself starting to draw it from it’s sheath…

“That’s it, just take it now and paint it red with my blood…”

“No!” I exclaimed to myself.

My vision cleared suddenly as I drew myself out of her mind games, the half drawn dagger sliding back into the sheath. I was breathing hard, almost panting, and my heart was racing. I took a moment to collect myself, trying to ignore Antoinetta’s smug face. I was quite shaken up by how easily she had manipulated me, but I couldn’t let her know that.

“You’re not worth my time,“ I said darkly, and swiveled on my heel to stalk off into the gathering darkness.

This post has been edited by allshallfade: Aug 8 2007, 01:04 AM

[allshallfade]

Chapter Fourteen: A Permanent Retirement

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it! As I made my way west through the forests surrounding Cheydinhaal, I replayed the scene with Antoinetta over and over through my head. I thought of the way she had tried to stalk me, her attempts to remain calm, cool and collected, her careful manipulation... and I had fallen for it! I had let her have control of me, and with such ease! As I listened once again to her voice in my head, I heard her softly whispered words taunting me, tempting me so; and all the while she knew that I could do nothing, that the Tenets prevented me from harming her... and I had known that too. Yet I had still reached for my dagger.

I cursed myself again. How could I have let that happen? She's insulted me before, she's taken digs at my position, my abilities... what was different this time? I couldn't even directly recall what had sent me over the edge. What had made me react so strongly? I tried to think back to her exact words... but it was all a just a blur of emotion. A blur of dark, deep anger, intense fury... and bloodlust.

I had never felt such a bloodlust as this- and I had only withheld a feeling like this once before. Before I killed the old woman Draconis, what felt like so long ago, I had always had an almost primordial urge to kill. It was almost as though I had been curious; I wanted to see what it was like, to take the life of another. And that one day hunting in the north, where there was no one around, no one to see me… the temptation had been too much. And this lifelong urge was now nothing compared with the one to kill Antoinetta.

And I also found myself wondering, once again, why Antoinetta hated me. She hated me before she knew me, so she must have known something of me before I had come to the Sanctuary. And no one from the Sanctuary had known me before then… except Lucien Lachance. But he had only met me very briefly- what could he have said that would inspire such a passionate dislike in her? He may have spoken well of my abilities to other family members, such as Ocheeva or Teinaava, I thought to myself. That could potentially explain it, if he spoke very highly of me- but still, he had barely known me!

I groaned, and decided to stop wondering why- however you spun it, she had handled the situation dreadfully, and I felt my hatred of her was now entirely justified.

So I spent the rest of my journey pondering the most effective methods to bring death to Antoinetta; which would be the most painful, the most prolonged, and the most enjoyable for myself. I came up with everything from strangling her with my bare hands to freezing her body with a paralyzing spell, at even intervals, and slowly making incisions in the most painful places I could, forcing her to watch as I destroyed her body.

My journey to Leyawiin was long and painful- it was agonizing thinking of Antoinetta, who was probably sitting back at the Sanctuary, smugly recalling how she had so easily manipulated me, while I was slugging through the muddy swamps… but I had been sent to kill Phillida, chosen above all others at the Sanctuary; above Antoinetta.

This was the thought that kept me going (along with the fantasies of Antoinetta’s demise at my hands), even when on the fourth day of my travels it started to pour relentlessly. I was seriously regretting my decision of traveling lightly, because every single pair of my clothes had been soaked.

And so I finally arrived at Leyawiin on the fifth day- wet, cold, and pissed. It was still raining when I made my way through the city gates, and the roads were just as bad as the swamp had been. I made my way to the Five Claws Lodge, the establishment I had stayed at my first visit to Leyawiin, when I had been sent to kill Scar Tail.

I entered the Inn in what I estimated to be mid-afternoon; but it was hard to tell with the weather being what it was.

“Hmm… I believe you’ve stayed here before,” the proprietor (with the quite common name “Witseidutsei”) said to me when I approached the counter.

This came as quite the shock to me. I had always considered myself fairly adept at disguise, or at least at being forgettable. At first I was quite taken aback, but my already less then positive mood led me to a feeling of being offended.

“I have,” I responded shortly, and she waited for me to continue. I stayed silent- I was not in the mood for small talk. She coughed.

“Yes, well then you know the drill- ten gold for the night, in the cleanest rooms in Leyawiin, I assure you!” She eyed my dirty, muddy form. “And I expect them to stay that way.”

A quarter of an hour later I was in a room of the Inn, stripping down out of my disgusting swamp clothes. I had asked the proprietor to bring in a tub of warm water for a bath; she had grudgingly agreed, but only after a payment of an additional three gold coins.

I slowly lowered myself into the scalding hot tub, drawing in sharp breaths as the hot water soaked my weary bones. The water turned to a murky brown within minutes as the dirt and grime was washed from my body. I leaned back in the tub, sighing contently. I let my mind wander, and was slightly surprised when it settled upon Lucien Lachance. I had not seen him since the day he inducted me into the Dark Brotherhood, yet his presence had remained constant in my mind. I wasn’t sure what it was that had kept me so interested, what compelled me to continue to think of him. Closing my eyes, I thought of his handsome, aquiline features, his deep, dark eyes and eloquent speech…

My musings were cut off abruptly as there was a huge crash from outside, and I jerked back to reality with a start, sloshing water over the side of the tub. I listened intently, but there was no need- I heard the easily recognized shouts and punches of a bar fight. Taking in a deep breath, I leaned back and tried to relax again. But I could not drown out the sounds coming from outside my door, and I was rather disconcerted by where my thoughts had been going before the interruption, so I carefully stepped out of the tub.

I stood still for few moments, dripping dry, for I had just come to the realization that I didn’t have any clean clothes, except my Dark Brotherhood leathers. Everything had been covered in mud, and was now either soaking wet or crusty with dried crap. Just bloody brilliant.

I was starting to get a bit cold, standing there stark naked and soaking wet just as the night air was starting to seep in, so I decided to continue my internal berating in the bed, under the covers. Once I was comfortable and warm I decided there was no point in getting out of bed, and soon fell asleep.

I awoke slowly the next morning, rather confused as to my surroundings at first. It took me awhile to remember where I was, with the shambled room and uncomfortable bed... and no clothes. But after a moment I recalled my mission, and my mistake, and sat up full of purpose. I needed to find a way to get some clothes, and without being seen wearing my Dark Brotherhood armor. I really didn’t want to put on my dirty swamp clothes… and I knew I could wash them, easily enough- but I wanted new clothes, and I felt like doing something a bit daring, a bit wicked. It was just one of those moods.

I climbed silently out of bed, rather uncomfortable in my nakedness, and opened the shutters just a crack. Miraculously enough, it had stopped raining, but the sky was still a bit dark. It must be nearing dawn, I decided.

I didn’t see anyone about in the streets, so I pushed the shutter open further. The streets were empty, not even a guard was about as far as I could see.

I thought quickly while I pulled on my Dark Brotherhood armor- I needed to find somewhere, or someone, to get clothes from. I couldn’t exactly go shopping about in this attire, so it was either stealing, or murdering. And I was really in the mood for the latter.

I left my room to find that the Inn was empty and silent, not a soul awake. I grabbed some bread and cheese from the bar and started wandering about the town, trying to find something or someone to rob. I was rounding a corner when I sighted a figure down at the end of the street. Darting back round the corner, I carefully leaned out only my head and tried to see who it was. The early morning fog was starting to lift, and the sun beginning to rise. I could see it was a woman, and she was walking quickly and purposefully.

But what I was really intrigued by was her apparel- a brown corset-like shirt, with a long linen skirt. Easy to move in, but still almost flattering, I thought to myself. Perfect.

I turned around to check my surroundings once again- it was still clear. I stuck my head back around the corner- she was getting closer, and I realized that all I had with me was a cheap steel dagger. I closed my eyes quickly, thinking fast, and then darted around the house I was using as cover, sliding up the alleyway further down the street, closer to the woman. She looked like a Breton, with brown hair and brown eyes- no beauty, but certainly not ugly.

I felt my breath catch up in my chest as she passed the alleyway, her labored pant making quite obvious her effort to move quickly. I tuned into just that- all that mattered in the world, all I felt, all I heard, was her breathing. And so I darted out from behind the house, dagger still loosely at my hip.

She didn’t even hear me coming, didn’t notice I was there, until my hands were round her neck. I made sure my grip was tight, before turning her head slightly to left, almost like warm-up swing, before violently yanking to my right. There was a satisfying
“crunch!” sound, and she fell limply to the ground at my feet. Her eyes were wide open, now eternally filled with fear.

I let out a deep breath, my eyes closed. By Sithis, that felt good. I’d had so much pent up frustration, anger, and bloodlust that I was quite proud (and rather surprised) of the restrained manner in which I had killed her.

But I did not have much time to enjoy the moment, for I knew that any instant someone could come walking by, and I still had not thought of what I was going to do with the body. I started to unlace the corset quickly, my fingers surprisingly steady. The kill had almost calmed my nerves, settled my emotions.

I slid her torso out of the corset, leaving her cloth bra on. I stuck my head out of the alley to check if anyone was round yet, but it remained clear. I started to loosen the skirt from around her hips, and found that she was wearing a layer of tan cotton pants beneath it. Smiling softly at my luck, I slid both garments off the woman and folded them carefully.

Now, what to do with the body? I could leave it where it was, but she would quickly be found, and the suspicion of murder would set in around the town. But there was not much time left before the streets would fill with people, and I had no idea where to bring the body. I realized I should have thought this out before killing her. Ah well- there was nothing I could do about that now.

I cast my eyes about the surrounding area, and Sithis was with me for I found there was a trapdoor coming out from one of the homes- most probably leading to a cellar or basement. Without a second thought I started dragging her towards it, lifting her up as much as possible to prevent a trail in the dirt. There was a lock holding the two doors shut, but I quickly picked it and swung open the doors to reveal a small ingredients cellar. I dropped her heavily down into the opening and slammed the trapdoor shut, relocking the entrance and smoothing the upturned dirt over in a matter of seconds.

I grabbed the pile of clothes and darted out into the street, striding briskly but lightly. Once back in my room (I climbed in through the window, for I sure that Witseidutsei was awake by now), I stripped down and changed into my new outfit- the corset was a bit tight, as I was taller then the woman, but the skirt was loose and fit comfortably. I set the pants aside, planning to wear them tomorrow if need be, and set about for preparation of the day.

I spent the morning getting to know the layout of the town, familiarizing myself with its design. There was not much to see- only a few shops, a church, the guildhalls and the castle. Something different from any other city I had been in Cyrodiil was the fact that there were little ponds and pools of water on the outskirts of the town, and I found that people used them to swim and bathe in.

I was keeping an eye out for Phillida, but didn’t spot him before late afternoon. I had been attempting to gossip with a group of woman outside the bookshop when I sighted the older man from afar, wearing an extravagant suit of silver armor. He was trailed closely by a smaller, younger man in beaten up Legionnare wear- obviously a body guard. They were walking out of my sight down another street, and so I hurriedly excused myself from the women and set off swiftly down the path, trying to seem inconspicuous while still moving quickly.

I rounded the street to and found that they were at the corner, talking with another guard. I walked a bit closer, listening carefully. They were discussing the mundane tasks of every-day guard duty- but as I drew closer, I saw the body guard’s eyes shift towards me. I immediately turned and pretended to be inspecting the flowers by the side of the road, but I could feel his eyes still upon me. After a moment I dared a glance up, and was startled by what I saw.

He was not looking at me in a suspicious way, as I had feared- no, his gaze was something was saying different. Something very, very different. His eyes were glazed over a bit, and I saw them travel from my feet upwards, pausing at certain points, until he reached my face and met my eyes. When he realized I was watching him he immediately looked away, and almost seemed to blush.

I could have laughed out loud- this man was attracted to me! My mind was already reeling with the possibilities, how I could use this to my advantage. I continued to watch him, and his charge. Phillida was turned the other way, talking to the other Imperial, but the bodyguard was now facing sideways to the road, and as he felt my gaze on him he visibly puffed out his chest and drew in his stomach, holding his chin out high.

Stifling a merciless grin, I decided to play along. I stepped back and leaned up against the building behind me, lazily stretching my limbs so the fabric of my outfit caught in all the right places. He shifted further so he could see me, and I could tell he was transfixed, so I decided to continue.

I gathered my hair in one hand, holding it off of my neck, while the other hand fanned my face.

“By the Nine, it gets hot in the afternoons!” I exclaimed.

I continued to fan my face for a moment, and then I reached down and pulled my skirt up on the right side (which was facing the body guard) to my upper thigh, under the pretense of cooling off. I could swear he was drooling by now.

By the way his eyes were exploring my body I could tell that he had never been with a woman- his expression was too curious, too naive, to be familiar with the ways of females. This made things all the more easy for me.

Before I could continue with my little games of seduction, Phillida started to walk off, and turned when he realized the body guard wasn’t following.

“Seviil! C’mon, let’s get going,” he exclaimed impatiently.

My eyes were on him as he turned and hurried off after Phillida. I originally would have followed them, but I had realized other possibilities. I could use this Seviil, the body guard, to gather my information- and it would be much faster, and more thorough, then my continued surveillance plans. The only problem was how to get him away from Phillida…

* * *


I did not arrive back at the Inn until much later that night, when most were already in their beds asleep. The bar was quiet, the only one present a drunken snoring Orc, and Witseidutsei. I approached her, ready to pay for the room another night. We exchanged the gold, and I was turning to go to my room when she spoke again.

“You know, there was someone asking about you today.”

I swirled around- probably too quickly, I realized, so I took a mental deep breath and calmed down, slowing my motions.

“Really?” I replied. “What for, and who was it?” I continued, trying to keep my tone neutral. So far my contracts for the Brotherhood had never brought me any trouble with the law, for I had been very careful- but you never knew when something incriminating could have been discovered, or someone had talked.

“That man who baby-sits Adamus Phillida all day- Seviil Varo- he was quite taken with you,” she said, wriggling her eyebrows. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then played the part. I also felt that my interaction with her the night before had been unnecessarily frigid, and it could be useful to have her on my good side- so I was going act much more amiably.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell… but I have seen him around town, I think. But how did you know he was asking about me?” I tried to seem skeptical, my confidence low.

“Well, he didn’t exactly ask about you at first… you see, he comes in here every day after the dinner rush- his only break from the old man, probably.”

I realized with a start that he must have been outside my room last night, if this was true. I had missed him because of my clothing dilemma… quite ironic, I thought sardonically, that the key to this contract had been so near.
“Anyways,” she continued- “I’ve come to know his moods, just like I do with most of the regulars. Today he was very distant and distracted, and I could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. I prodded a bit and finally got him to admit he was thinking about a girl,” she said, puffing her chest out proudly at this feat.

“I asked about her, and he said he didn’t even know her name. I told him to describe her, and he gave an almost identical description to you, clothes and all. And he also mentioned that he’d never seen you about town before, so you couldn’t be a native.”

“Really?” She nodded, and I realized I should probably show some reaction to this news.

“A guardsman, thinking I’m attractive…” I attempted a nervous giggle, and she smiled with a chuckle.

“Oh my, did he think you were attractive! I could swear he looked like a lovesick puppy when he described your dress.” I grinned sheepishly, and she continued, obviously proud with her matchmaking.

“I told him that you were staying here- boy did he turn about fast to find you in the crowd, you should have seen his face when I told him you hadn’t come in yet…” she laughed heartily, and I made gave little smile. “So he’ll definitely be by tomorrow, if you want to talk to him,” she finished.

“Oh… yes, of course! But what to wear…” I gave a nervous laugh, which she joined in with.

“Don’t worry, I think he’d be happy with anything… he’s a good boy, rather shy, but a he’s got a good heart. Treat him well,” she said, giving me a mock threatening look. I promised to do so, and bade her a vague goodnight, my thoughts already elsewhere.

As I lowered myself into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, I thought of the situation. I could easily talk Seviil up, get him to tell me Phillida’s schedule- and then I could decide when the best time to make my move would be. This sort of insider information would make my task a very simple one. I closed my eyes, and felt myself drifting off to sleep…

I dreamt that night of a pool, the moonlight reflecting off its surface with an earthly glow. In the center of the pool I could see myself, wearing my Dark Brotherhood armor, water up to my waist. Held loosely in my hand at my side was the Blade of Woe,
its point gleaming in reflection of the moon.

In front of me in the pool was a heap of dark cloth- the darkest black, even darker
than my own armor. And as I watched, the pool transformed from water to a mass of these dark, soggy materials. I realized that they were corpses, of people in black robes and hoods, piled high in the pool. I raised my dagger, and blood was dripping from it.

A figure appeared behind me, also in dark robes. I could see no face beneath its hood, and a rose was in its dark gloved hand. I watched as it crept up behind me, and I wanted to shout out, to warn myself- for a feeling of dread like I had never felt before was overwhelming me- but I could do nothing. I could not move, I could not talk; I could only watch.

And watch I did, as the figure placed the rose against my throat. I dropped my dagger into the pool, and there was a splash of red blood to welcome it. I raised my hands and gripped the sleeves of the figure. Not to stop him- to aid him with his task. He drew the rose across my neck slowly and smoothly, my own hands guiding his. I could see thin lines of blood running down my pale neck.

My expression did not change, even as the blood started to gush from my open throat; my eyes were hollow and lifeless long before the breath left my body. As I fell beneath the surface of the pool, the figure raised its head to look directly across at me. And what I saw was indescribable- two pools of endless black, an infinity of space. A void.

When I awoke, I had forgotten the dream- but an unshakable feeling of dread remained.

However, I quickly pushed aside my sensation of dread as an anxiety over the gravity of the contract, and started to plan for the day. And as I set my thoughts to my task, I realized that I didn’t know what to do for the day. I was going to meet with Seviil Varo tonight, and try to woo him into revealing all I needed to know about Phillida. Therefore, I did not need to tail them- I didn’t even need to find them at all.

I sat for a good quarter of an hour, pondering this fact, after having made my bed, eaten a breakfast of stale bread and grapes, and dressed. After another quarter of an hour of silence and little movement, I realized something. I was bored.

This was a new feeling to me, at least for my recent past. I had been occupied by contracts, and by time spent at the Sanctuary, for there was always something to do there- be it long discussions with Teinaava about anything and everything, arguing with Gogron about the most effective ways of assassination, training with Ocheeva, trying to persuade M’raaj Dar to barter with me, or verbally sparring with Antoinetta- I was always occupied. I now had free time, and hadn’t the faintest idea what to do with it.

I thought back to my time before the Brotherhood- what had I done then to cure this feeling? I closed my eyes in concentration, for my years before the Brotherhood had been pushed to a far corner of my mind, to be covered in dust and never thought of again.

After a moment of careful meditation, I finally came up with something- I could go hunting, or gathering for alchemical supplies. Quite happy to finally have something to do, I put together a day pack and strode purposefully from the Inn and out the Main Town gates.

I spent the day hunting the scarce edible game around Leyawiin, and gathering some of the unique plant life. I found several bushes of my favorite flower, Nightshade, and looked forward to making some sinister poisons with the buds I carried.

I returned to the Inn in the later afternoon, my bag a bit heavier then it had been when I left. I cleaned myself with some spare water, and dressed carefully, for once taking a long time to make sure I looked appealing to the public eye. I used my fingers to unknot my jet black hair, and let it fall loose at my shoulders. I still had over an hour to spare once this was done, so I spent the time experimenting with my alchemy equipment, and my new ingredients.

I find alchemy to be a most satisfying art, one that calms my nerves. There is nothing like taking two, three, or four completely different things and combining them to achieve one effect. I especially was skilled at the art of poison making, and that was a reason Nightshade was my favorite flower, aside from it’s beautiful appearance.

One the outside, Nightshade is just an attractive, violet flower, with thick petals and a long stem. But on the inside, once brewed correctly, it’s properties can bring about a person’s death; and depending on how you create it, a slow and painful death, or a quick and silent one. This deception I found most appealing.

Today, however, I tried something different, something I had been experimenting with for quite some time- a sleeping draught. I had a few samples of it already, that had been mildly successful, but I wished to make it powerful enough to work for hours instead of minutes.

I was quite absorbed in my trials that I almost didn’t notice when the light started to leave the sky, and the barroom outside become louder and fuller. I carefully put my things away, slipped my freshly finished vial of sleeping draught in my skirt folds, and exited my room.

The scene I entered was a loud and crowded one- there was quite a full house that night. Men were drinking by the pint, already starting to break out into song and easy laughter, while others were becoming a bit violent and aggressive. I hastily scouted out the room, and saw that Seviil was not there yet.

I took a seat at the bar, and ordered a goblet of wine from the smug Witseidutsei, who was grinning knowingly. I sipped from it, waiting impatiently. I was quite keen to get on with the contract.

An old drunk man in rags approached me, grinning with yellow-stained teeth and red eyes, but he was quickly deterred by a death glare. I knew I could be quite terrifying if the situation arose for it. My eyes quite obviously said “I will kill you, and I will enjoy it”. And it was evident there was no lie in my gaze.

A few moments later I felt eyes upon my back, and I swiveled in my bar stool to find Seviil at the doorway. He looked away when I tried to meet his gaze, and his posture was stiff and his gaze fixed. There were two seats empty at the bar. One was next to myself, and the other around the corner. He started to head for the corner.

Witseidutsei was watching him as well, and when she saw this she shoved the drunken old man standing at the corner sideways, and he stumbled onto the stool, and found himself unable to stand again. Witseidutsei gave me a sideways wink, and turned back to serving.

I saw Seviil give a deep swallow, as though bracing himself, before striding over to sit next to me. He ordered an Ale, and tried to look anywhere but at me. His cheeks were tinted red, and his posture was still stiff. I realized, with a bit of exasperation, I would have to get things moving along.

“Busy night, eh?” I said, gesturing toward the crowd with a nod of my head.

He looked alarmed at my speaking to him, and responded seconds later with only
a curt nod of his head, and an “Mmm” of acknowledgment.

I waited another moment, where I noticed him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, before continuing.

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen you about town, but I just can’t place it,” I said, turning towards him.

“I seem to, ah, recall, seeing you too,” he said, his voice hesitant.

I narrowed my eyes, as though inspecting his face carefully, while he tried not to
seem to notice. After a few seconds I let out an exclamation of triumph.

“Aha! I know now- you’re the one who is always with that man in the white armor- Adamus Phillida, right?”

“Yes, that is me.” He seemed quite pleased that I recognized him.

“So, that’s quite the important job, guarding such a respected and high esteemed man. You must be quite the guy to be chosen for such an honor,” I said, giving him a small smile. He finally was making eye contact with me, and seemed a bit more comfortable, his chest puffed out with pride at my words.

“I was chosen out of all the Legion based here in Leyawiin, and believe me, most were not happy about being passed up for this opportunity. My father especially was thrilled when I received such an honor, for he had not seen much promise in me before.”

I could see in his eyes that his relationship with his father was not the best, and
decided to play on that a bit.

“Not seen much promise? Is he blind?” I made a show of looking him up and down. “You’ve got the natural physique of a soldier, with your broad shoulders and muscled arms!”

His face was bright red now, and he shifted a bit once again, only this time in a
manner to puff out his chest and show his arms off a bit more. I continued on.

“And the way you walk- so limber, so graceful! You must do wonders at swordplay.”

“Yes, well, I have always been of the mind that my talent has not been appreciated yet,” he said pompously, looking me right in the eye.
The double entendre was not lost on either of us. I tried not to let my involuntary shiver of disgust show too much, before continuing.

“I must agree! I was just going to say how you’re armor isn’t really of great quality, and that you deserve much more- but even though your armor isn’t as extravagant as others, you wear it so much better,” I said this with a sly smile, and he gave a self satisfied smirk. Time to cut to the chase, I thought.

“I’ve always loved a man in armor,” I continued, my voice low and about as suggestive as you could get. I looked right into his deep brown eyes as I said this, and I
watched as his expression came to something that I couldn’t describe in any way other than “hopeful”.

I was getting a bit impatient, and I could see Witseidutsei lingering near us more than was necessary- I realized she was listening. The information I was trying to gather may seem suspicious if thought about after Phillida’s death; I was not worried about the bodyguard, but Witseidutsei seemed to know everyone and everything, and therefore she had a gossiping mind. She may make the connection, I thought darkly. I didn’t want anyone to even consider me as a culprit, so I decided to make things a bit more private.

“Would you like to come into my room? It will be much quieter, and we can be alone, to-” I looked him in the eye meaningfully, “-talk.”

His eyes widened, and at first I worried I had gone too far. But I quickly realized it wasn’t reluctance, but fear. He was nervous. I suppose that was understandable, seeing as I knew now almost certainly that he had never bedded a woman before- but he was the man. He wasn’t supposed to show fear. I found myself feeling almost angered by his weakness.

“I would enjoy that very much.” He had found his voice at last.

Rising from my stool silently, he followed me as I unlocked my room. As I let him enter in front of me and turned to close the door, I saw Witseidutsei give me a surprised look, but she smiled a bit before the door clicked closed.

I turned back to Seviil, and gestured for him to sit at the little table with two chairs in the corner. He complied, and I filled the other chair. There was a bottle of wine and two goblets, and I poured one for each of us. We sipped in silence for a moment, and I realized he would not be the one to speak first. I ground my teeth in annoyance, before speaking.

“So, tell me more of your duties as a body guard. Does anything exciting ever happen?” I asked, feigning naivety.

“All I really have to do is follow Phillida around all day- he’s retired, so there’s not much adventuring going on,” he said, rubbing a hand through his short black hair.

I pretended to look a bit disappointed, and he quickly started speaking again.

“Well, there was this one time we helped to capture an escaping prisoner, but there wasn’t much fighting. After we heard of the prisoner’s escape, he made up a plan at a moment’s notice- and within the hour we had the outlaw in our grasp, with no casualties. Adamus is intelligent and wise, a good leader- and a good man, who believes in justice, but is also merciful.”

“That must have been very exciting! I’ve heard stories of Phillida’s skill as a guard, and all spoke highly of him. He doesn’t seem to be the man to retire, though. I always thought he’d work until he was killed in the line of duty, no matter how old,” I said thoughtfully.

Seviil shifted once again, his eyes darting about a bit. He was on the verge of telling me something, I could feel it. I batted my eyelashes at him, lips parted as though in curiosity, and his expression softened.

“To be truthful, he does get a bit restless. He’s also not happy that I’ve been assigned to watch him at all times… he feels he can obviously take care of himself, and wants to enjoy his retirement without someone breathing down his neck. Can’t say I blame him, I wouldn’t like the situation if I were him either…”

“Well you’re not with him right now,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Where is he now?”

“Ah, well, he’s in bed right now. Sleeping,” he replied, but after a brief and hesitant pause; quite obviously a lie.

I gave a little laugh, and he seemed quite confused. I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh, okay, he’s sleeping,” I said, still laughing, and he looked downward shamefully. I continued to watch him, my eyes dancing with amusement.

“Alright, alright, so maybe he’s not sleeping…” he relented, grinning- but he didn’t continue.

“Aw, now you’ve got me intrigued! So where is he, if he’s not in bed and you’re not beside him?” I said, my tone playful, and I batted his arm lightly.

He mocked rubbing his arm, as though I had hurt him.

“No more, no more! I’ll tell you- as long as you promise not to hit me again!”

“I make no promises,” I said, grinning wickedly.

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances then.”

“I suppose you will,” I responded, and I folded my arms and gave him an expectant look. He grinned.

“Well, if you must know, I do feel a bit bad for him… so I give him a break every once in awhile. The reason Phillida retired down here in Leyawiin is because he loves to swim; but he only likes to swim alone. Round this time, the pools in town are empty and everyone’s off having dinner. I come here to have a drink, and let him swim for an hour so.”

I could barely contain my glee- Sithis be praised, I could not ask for a more perfect scenario! If what he said was true, and there wasn’t anyone about at this time of
day, I could sneak out now, kill Phillida and be done with this all! Now, just to get rid of the bodyguard… I knew I couldn’t kill him, for it would be all too obvious that I was the culprit. But as shifted my leg, I felt the vial within my skirt. A plan formulated.

“‘Every once in awhile?’” I repeated. “You sneak! Witseidutsei told me you come here everyday!”

He laughed at my indignant expression, but then seemed to understand what my statement implied.

“You spoke to Witseidutsei about me?”

I lowered my head, as though in embarrassment. I felt his fingers beneath my chin, and he raised my head level to his gaze.

“I told you mine, now you must share yours,” he said, raising an eyebrow mockingly. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Mmm… well, to be truthful… I saw you in the bar the other night, and again in town yesterday… and I was intrigued.” I said, inventing wildly. “So I asked her about you, and she said you came in every night…” I trailed off.

There was a silence, and when I looked up into his eyes, I saw an all too familiar look in them. Hurriedly, I reached for the bottle in front of us, my other hand in my lap.

“Would you like another glass of wine?”

He shook his head lightly, as though clearing it of a thought, and nodded.

When I had placed my hand in my lap I had slipped the vial of sleeping drought out of the fold of my skirt, uncorking it swiftly with a deft movement of my fingers. As I went to pour into his glass, I made sure to lean in closely to his body, and I caught his gaze and smiled at him, keeping him entranced in my eyes as I dumped both the wine and the drought into his goblet. I leaned back quickly and placed the wine at a strategic angle behind the vase of flowers, so the vial was hidden from Seviil’s view.

I waited, but he didn’t take a sip. He was still watching me, eyes glazed over a bit. He started to lean forward, his hand about to touch mine, which sat on the table- but I drew it away quickly to grab my goblet of wine. I held it in the air, and gestured for him to do the same. He was confused at first, but caught on quickly. He grabbed his goblet and clinked it against mine, smiling.

I returned the smile, and then tilted my head back and drank deeply, watching Seviil out of the corner of my eye. He was doing the same. I kept drinking, gulping down mouthfuls of wine, and knew that he would not stop until I did- men and their pride.

I made sure to drink a sizable portion of the goblet, which of his spiked would be enough I knew to knock him out for hours, before I took a final swallow and pulled away from the glass.

He waited another brief pause and did the same, smacking his lips. I met his eyes and gave a bashful smile. His eyes lit up, and he started to lean forward. Seeing no way to avoid it, I too started to lean forward, sending an urgent prayer to the Night Mother that the drugs kicked in quickly…

And it was answered. I could feel his hot breath upon my face, and was just inches away from his lips when suddenly his eyelids drooped, and his expression became lax. Another instant later he was collapsed in is chair, snoring loudly. I closed my eyes and gave a silent thanks to the Night Mother.

My plan was thus- I would now take him, undress him, and place his body in my bed, arranging the surroundings appropriately so it would seem that what he wished for had occurred. I would sneak out of my room window, find Phillida, kill him, and return to the bed. This way, when Seviil awoke, I could convince him we had spent the night together, and that it was just so amazing his memory must have been muddled. This would effectively clear me of suspicion, and I could leave the next day without worry.

And so I carried the first part of my plan out quickly, rather enjoying throwing things about the room (including his clothes) in an ungainly manner. But I was moving quickly, for there was no time to be wasted- we had been talking for a fair bit of time, and who knew when Phillida would be getting out of the water and putting that wretched armor back on.

I didn’t want to go through the rather lengthy process of putting my Dark Brotherhood leathers on, so I simply gathered up my bow, the Blade of Woe, and last but certainly not least, the Rose of Sithis. I opened the shutters of the window and stuck my head out, making sure no one was nearby. Once satisfied that the coast was clear, I stuck a leg through. I took one last look at Seviil, who was still snoring loudly, and pushed the rest of my body out, into the gathering twilight.

The sun was just disappearing on the horizon, and the crickets had come out to sing their songs. And that was the only noise to be heard, besides the dull sounds coming form the bar behind me. Seviil was right- no one was about. I couldn’t even spot a guard.

Not wasting another moment, I started off down the street, sticking to the shadows, which were rapidly forming as the sun disappeared. As I passed by an alleyway between two houses, I suddenly felt an almost familiar chill in the air, and a sensation that I was being watched.

It was quickly forgotten though, once I cast my gaze down the road. I could see between a gap in two houses a pool of water. And in the pool of water, I spotted Adamus Phillida, shirtless and exposed, with no one about. The familiar thrill rose in my stomach, and I dropped down into a crouch and drew my bow. I darted to my left, pressing my back against the city wall. I slid around the corner of the wall towards the pool, making sure to remain hidden in the darkness.

As I drew closer to the pool I slowed my step, treading carefully. I waited for a moment, until Phillida started to stroke and swim about a bit, before moving again, using the stirring of the water to mask my sounds of movement. I was very close now, just at the edge of the water, concealed by a cluster of boulders. He was facing away from me, swimming for the opposite side of the pool.

I started to creep closer, but I felt my heart stop as I kicked a small stone with my left shoe. It rolled quietly, but dropped off the edge of a boulder into the pool with a very audible splash. My blood turned to ice as Phillida’s body stiffened, and he started to turn. I dropped down as low as I could, pressing my bow to the ground, but kept my eyes on Phillida. After a moment that seemed to last hours, he appeared to disregard the noise and continued his leisurely swim.

His back was still to me, as he was doing the backstroke towards my direction. I raised my bow, notching the Rose of Sithis with some reverence. I drew my arm back slowly and as silently has possible, my muscles shaking from the effort of keeping the arrow fletched. I took careful aim, holding the bow as steady as I could. Time seemed to slow, and I felt the familiar rush of a kill, the sensation sweeping my entire body. The tension was too much, I had to release it, I couldn’t hold on much longer-

And I let go of the Rose, letting it fly free. It struck him through the throat, where I had aimed. That moment was indescribable, the moment of such a powerful kill. I could scarcely move for a time, my body completely consumed by the murder. For at long last, Adamus Phillida was dead at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood.

But there was still more to be done- if I wanted my bonus, I needed his finger. I lifted my skirt and waded into the pool, drawing my dagger. The blood from his wound was starting to taint the clarity of the water, turning it scarlet. I stuck my hands under his arms and carefully flipped over his body. I grabbed at his right arm and held up the hand on which the ring sat upon, raising my dagger in preparation. Just at this moment, however, I looked down at the face of Adamus Phillida.

And I was stunned by the spark of recognition. I was physically staggered,
enough so that I dropped his hand with a splash back into the pool and stepped back. I had seen his face before, not long ago. Thinking hard, I had a flash of his face, upside-down, backed by azure skies, his lips mouthing “Are you okay miss?”

My first contract, when I had been sent to kill the pirate Captain, I had swum across the Rumare Lake, and when I reached the shores of the Waterfront, exhausted, an Imperial Legion Officer had helped me stand and asked me if I was okay. That Imperial Legion Officer had been Adamus Phillida, probably mere weeks before his retirement.

I am still not sure why this staggered me so, except that it had been so unexpected, and such a profound coincidence, that I noticed nothing else. For that must be the reason the sounds of the approaching guards were not heard by my ears.

They came from the barracks, their steps and talk loud enough- but I was completely distracted by my revelation, and did not notice their presence until it was too late. They spotted me a slight second after I saw them. Their gaze was confused, but when they saw the body of a man in the water before me, and my dagger still in hand, they instantly sprung into action, shouting wildly.

I supposed they had been heading to the pub, for they had no weapons, so I figured my best chance was to run. Cursing myself for my moment of weakness, I set off out of the pool and up the banks, darting between two houses. They tried to cut me off in the street. I sprinted the opposite way, my heart racing. My body jolted with adrenaline when I heard something strike a wall near me with a resounding crack; they were throwing rocks. And as I realized this, I started to dash down an alleyway… when time seemed to slow as I heard something strike the house on my right.

Next was a rushing sound, louder and louder, until a final crack echoed throughout my head… and all was black.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Fifteen: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Lucien Lachance eyed the city of Leyawiin with obvious distaste, his lips slightly pursed and eyes narrowed. The sun was finishing its descent, only the last golden rays remaining to shine out over the mountain peaks. But at least he could see the sun, he thought ruefully- this was his first visit to Leyawiin where the weather had been completely free of rain.

Lucien’s pace was swift as he made his way toward the city gate, his stride determined and resolute; and his mind was working in such the same manner. He had much to ponder on, for he brought information of events that would alter the course of Dark Brotherhood’s history… and, it seemed, not in a necessarily positive way.

When he had received word to meet with Ungolim, Lucien knew it could not bode well for himself. He had been right, in a sense- only the truth had turned out far worse then anything he could have anticipated. But then again, he mused; he should have expected this outcome. It was reasonable, in the circumstances, to choose this course of action- if you were a rash, foolish man. Which was the very core of Ungolim’s being, Lucien thought with a sneer.

Ever since Ungolim had risen into power, he had made a great many changes in the manner in which the Brotherhood was run- and a most notable change was that any form of ceremonial meeting between the Black Hand had been completely eradicated. Instead, everything was now handled by courier and letter.

Since the Brotherhood had been formed, there had always been assemblies that took place under the greatest secrecy between the Black Hand- for they were the organization’s ruling body, and decisions were made after each and every member’s opinion had been heard, with the Listener’s word being the final. Now, however, Ungolim had removed any chance of his own decisions being contested by disbanding these meetings, for the Black Hand would now receive news only through letters.

These letters typically bore most grievous news, often of the newest and most recent nonsensical scheme that Ungolim had concocted and carried out, without the advice or permission of the Black Hand. And yet most agreed that the Listener was simply a cautious man, and that his actions showed he only wished to keep the integrity of the Black Hand intact.

However, a select few (such as Lucien) realized the complete truth of the matter, and it was thus; Ungolim was a fool. He was not worthy of the position of Listener, and he himself realized that. Yet he was power hungry, and did not wish to lose his position because of incompetence. So he rarely allowed anyone from the Brotherhood to speak with him directly, except for his lackey Alval- the Apprentice of the Listener. Most of the decisions Ungolim came to were absolutely ridiculous, but because the Black Hand was not permitted to meet anymore nothing could be done about it. And that was exactly the case with Lucien’s orders presently.

The meeting had been everything Lucien had dreaded it to be, and far worse. After Ungolim had shared his plans, Lucien had been nearly stunned into silence by their rashness, their severity. But not for long was he quiet, for he knew this opportunity to argue his opinion would not arise again.

He had tried to reason with the Bosmer, tried to make him realize that there were other options that could be carried out before taking such drastic measures- that there were other leads that could be followed. But no, he would not listen to such rationale. Ungolim felt he could do whatever he pleased, and damn everyone else’s thoughts or opinions. And unfortunately, this was quite true. Ungolim (for whatever unknown reason) was Lucien’s superior, the Listener of the Black Hand- and that meant Lucien had to follow his orders, no matter how completely unreasonable and utterly ridiculous they were.

And now Lucien had been sent by Ungolim like a common courier to inform Alval Uvani of the situation. The apprentice traveled all throughout province of Cyrodiil under the guise of a merchant, making weekly trips to all of the members of the Black Hand. This meant that the Black Hand would get an almost weekly update of the going-on’s of the Listener’s decisions. However, this week, Ungolim had informed Lucien that he (the Listener) would be going to Morrowind to meet with their sectors there. As a result, Lucien would have the lovely task of informing Alval of the news as soon as possible, by riding down to Leyawiin and catching the apprentice before he left for Bravil.

Lucien carried with him a satchel, filled with the letters Ungolim had prepared for each member of the Black Hand to receive. At least Lucien had only been given the task to give these letters to Alval to deliver, and he himself would not have to do so. Yet even this was trying his patience; the Listener had known he could have sent a courier to do this task, but sent Lucien instead, as an insult to his worth and abilities.

Lucien’s expression was taut and his eyes hard as he brooded over the situation, his pace slowing as he approached the city wall. He had left his steed about an eight-mile up the road, as she was an easily distinguishable creature and he would rather she was not sighted near the city.

His expression became even sourer as he slipped into the Leyawiin city gates, glaring distastefully down at his muddied boots, his black hood pulled far over his face. But there was no need for this disguise, for the streets seemed to be deserted. The sun had all but disappeared behind the mountains now, and the air was cool and dark. He walked cautiously down the muddied road, his footsteps soft and silent.

He was heading towards the home of Alval Uvani, on the opposite end of town. He placed a hand on the satchel of letters at his side, and was smiling darkly at the thought of forcing them down Ungolim’s throat when he heard something up ahead of him, causing his musings to come to an abrupt halt. In a flash he darted into the alley between the church and a cottage, pressing his back against the slick stone. There was silence, and then he heard it again. Lucien slowly tilted his head around the corner, looking down the road toward the source of the sound.

He could see nothing in the darkness, but he knew there was a pool of water ahead, surrounded by a cluster of cottages. He was quite certain the sound he heard was splashing, and when it rang out again he breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was merely someone out for a nighttime swim. He leaned forward, pushing himself gracefully form the wall, and started to head back into the central street.

He had taken barely two steps before he had darted back into the shadows, for he had heard another startling sound- only this time much closer. He need only search for a moment before sighting the source. Across the street, at the establishment called the Five Claws Lodge, the shutters of a window lay open, clanging against the wall with the breeze. He could make out the faint silhouette of someone poking their head out, checking up and down the street. And then, to Lucien’s utter astonishment (and a bit of amusement), the person disappeared for a moment back into the room, and seconds later instead of a head popping out, someone stuck their leg through the window.

Lucien watched as the person (who he could now tell was a woman, because of the skirt she was wearing) pushed the other leg out of the window, followed by her body. He shirted closer the edge of the building he was concealed behind, watching as the woman quickly adjusted her clothes and looked about warily. He could tell, as if with a sixth sense, or perhaps recognition in how he himself acted, that this person was about to commit a crime… or just had.

Lucien could not make out the face of the figure in the shade; all he could glimpse was long ponytail of straight, jet black hair, and pale, alabaster skin. The woman was of average height, and had a slim, light frame. From what Lucien had seen of her legs whilst she was climbing out the window, they had been toned and muscular, like that of one who spends much time outdoors or traveling. As she started to walk down the street, towards where Lucien was concealed in the alley, he could see that her steps were calculated and silent- so she was a thief, or a murderer, Lucien concluded.

And as she brushed past the alleyway in which he still stood, she seemed to sense his presence, as she turned her head slightly in his direction, her frame becoming stiff and wary. A ray of moonlight shone down upon her, and Lucien got a clear view of the woman’s face. The recognition nearly physically staggered him as her eyes met his. Those chilling, blue eyes…

One could not forget those eyes, and Lucien certainly had not. Adrienne… the woman with no last name, whom he had welcomed into the Sanctuary just under a year ago. He still remembered his first meeting with her, when he visited her while she slept in the house of the very woman she had just mercilessly slain. He remembered when she had opened her eyes after he had awakened her, that even in the darkness they stood out. Such a piercing blue, such a sharp and steady gaze… the eyes of a born killer.

He felt a shiver run involuntarily down his spine at her stare, and his breath caught up in his throat as he felt the breeze from her walking past, and he inhaled her scent; it was something like Nightshade, his favorite flower. She seemed not to notice him in the darkness, even though he could swear she looked right into him. He breathed out a sigh once she had made her quiet way further down the street, and he chanced a look out. She was heading straight for the pool in which he had heard splashing, and as she drew closer she slowed her steps.

She seemed to spot the person in the pool, and dropped down into a crouch, her body becoming still as a wolf stalking its prey. And as she did this, Lucien was hit with a sudden wave of dawning realization.

“Of course…” he murmured, letting out a soft breath of silent laughter. He should have understood the situation immediately- but then again, he reasoned with himself, his mind was already filled with other consuming matters. So Adrienne was here to kill the Imperial scum, Adamus Phillida… and that must be him, there in the pool.

His lips were upturned at the corners as Lucien watched, entranced, as Adrienne reached over her shoulder and drew her bow, gripping it firmly but almost tenderly, followed by a long shafted arrow, still slightly moist from the rain days before. She slipped silently between a row of houses to her left, slinking off into the darkness along the city wall. She rounded a corner and disappeared from Lucien’s view.

Lucien let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding; he had become caught up in the thrill of the hunt, the ecstasy of a slow and steady stalking of the prey. He had to keep watching, he had to keep going- he could not stop now.

He carefully made his way from the hiding spot behind the church and glided over to an alley facing the pool, pressing himself against the wall. He started to search for Adrienne again, his very soul reaching out to join her in her hunt. It only took a moment of carefully scanning the shadows of the castle wall for him to spot Adrienne, her dark form blending in with the shade so that she was nearly invisible to those without a trained eye.

He admired his fellow Dark Brotherhood member as she pulled closer to the pool, her steps all carefully controlled; and yet, Lucien could see through all of this. He could feel her lust for the kill, could sense her need for blood, how she craved for the high, the ecstasy of taking life from another… for he knew and understood this feeling all too well. It was a feeling he was right now sharing with her, whether she knew it or not.

Adrienne had pulled in close to the pool now, cautiously manipulating the shadows to stay hidden. He could almost feel her heart beating hard within her chest, for his was now as well. The thrill was rising within them as the prey remained unaware of the danger it was in.

Lucien’s eyes were wide and his expression almost hungry, carnal, as he watched Adrienne’s eyes light up as his were, the moonlight reflecting off of her eager face. She too was caught up in the moment, for nothing else seemed to matter, just the target at hand, what they both were longing so deeply for.

His breath caught up in his chest as she made a misstep, causing a stone to tumble into the pool with a very clear splash. She froze, as did Lucien, muscles perfectly still, not breathing, as Adamus stopped mid-stroke, straightening his back and listening intently. Time seemed to suspend itself as Lucien watched on, eyes never leaving the scene before him, the tension almost unbearable. After a moment that lasted immeasurably, Phillida appeared to disregard the noise and continued his leisurely swim.

Lucien let out a silent sigh, echoing Adrienne’s own as her shoulders sunk down and their bodies’ released some of the stress. But it was right back to the hunt, and he felt the now familiar rush flowing through his veins, a building of such powerful tension that it was barely restrained. But they must contain it; they must, for when the release came, the kill, it would be all the more powerful.

Watching on, Lucien saw Adrienne positioning herself behind a large boulder, gripping her bow with white-knuckled fingers. He felt her attempts to keep her breaths long and steady, but it was no use. Their breathing started to come in short, shuddering gasps of barely contained lust. He fervently wished that he was beside her, about to aid in the kill, his hands upon the weapon preparing to fire!

She was fitting the Rose of Sithis into the bow, slowly sliding her hand along its shaft as she drew it back carefully. Lucien could not have looked away if he wished. All he had, all he felt, was with the scene before him.

The arrow was pulled back to its furthest point, Adrienne holding it as steady as she could. He felt a thrill rise up from within his soul, holding his breath and his heart racing, nearly bursting from anticipation- he watched her, sensing the same feelings with her. It was an almost electrical stimulation, one that was building and straining until the very second of the kill, the only time it could be released… it wouldn’t be long now, they couldn’t hold it all in much longer…

In that as second, as she took her final aim with the Rose, she leaned her head back and the moonlight suddenly illuminated her face. Her features were still, no expression, not even the slightest upturn of her lips. Yet her eyes; her bright, glowing eyes… he had seen her before, but never like this. She looked so… alive. And he knew that if someone had been watching him at this moment, they would say the same of him.

Finally, in unison they took one last deep, shuddering breath, eyes sparkling maliciously and hearts soaring as one, as Adrienne slid her fingers off the shaft of the arrow, in a second that seemed to last eternally.

Time slowed as they watched the arrow glide gracefully towards its target. The tension was all but unbearable; they felt the familiar rush and wave of desire rush throughout their bodies… it was coming, soon now. They had passed the point of no return. As though in a dream, all they felt, all they were, was with that arrow, waiting to penetrate the flesh.

And after an agonizingly long moment, the arrow pierced through Adamus Phillida’s throat with a satisfying “thunk”.

The release! Oh at last, the glorious, blessed release! Their bodies exploded as one, eyes closed in the final moment, only able to recognize the inexplicable feelings coursing through their bodies, from their very souls. The stalking of the prey, the preparation of the strike- this had been a build up to this final moment, the moment of the kill, of the release. There was little that could surpass the feelings engulfing the pair of them at that moment.

A period of hard breathing and vague awakening of the senses, eyes fluttering and smile upon their faces followed. Gradually, with a slow spreading warmth, they began to have full control of their bodies once again. Their breath was still coming in short pants, as though they had been running a marathon, adrenaline rushing. The after-effects of the kill were still tingling throughout their veins, and it left a suspended state of elation that neither could shake.

After a moment, Adrienne stirred herself and started to wade into the pool, her eyes still aflame from the kill. Lucien watched her intently, wondering what her intentions were, his chest still heaving as he breathed in hard. She flipped over the body, lifting his arm up- Lucien then remembered the second part of the contract, to bring the finger to the Imperial City- but suddenly she stopped, dropping the arm back into the water. Her body was unmoving, stiff, and her expression was perfectly still. Only her eyes betrayed any emotion- the normal icy blue now turned to an almost stormy gray, as though her inner self was in conflict.

He watched on, his expression bewildered as she stood in silence for near a minute. He wondered at first if she felt some guilt, some remorse over the act; but no, he thought. Something completely unexpected, something that she had not anticipated had just happened, Lucien decided. All of a sudden, he heard something that made his heart stand still.

Slurred voices, the sound of armor grating together, of clanking boots- the unmistakable alarm of the approach of guards… yet Adrienne still sat unmoving, her eyes fixed upon the face of the man before her. What in the name of Sithis was she doing? Didn’t she hear the guards approaching? What was so interesting about that old fetcher’s face? Lucien thought, frustrated beyond belief.

He closed his eyes, releasing a deep, exasperated and foreboding breath when the guards stopped in their tracks as they spotted Adrienne, who had looked up a split second before. There was an instant of silence as the guard’s took in the scene before them, but it was over quickly and they started to shout and wave their arms, for they had no weapons. Immediately she started to sprint out of the pond, heading up towards the road- but the guards were going around, intending to cut her off. She quickly realized this and veered her course. Lucien’s eyes widened as she saw where she was headed- straight at his alley, straight at him.

He was starting to back away, so she could move through the alley without running right into him, when he heard a resounding crack, followed in quick succession by another. He saw it in the way that Adrienne’s eyes widened that they were throwing something, probably pebbles or rocks by the sound of it, at her. He realized he wouldn’t have time to move, she was coming at him too fast…

And then, just as she was about to enter the alley, Lucien’s gaze focused upon her face. He did not think she could see him yet, but she would any second. All was silent as he gazed into her now fearful eyes; he didn’t hear the shouts of the guards, he didn’t feel the moist air around him, he didn’t hear the footsteps…

But this moment was shattered when her head suddenly jerked violently to the left, her eyelids crushing shut in pain. Adrienne fell to the ground, right at Lucien’s feet. She was unconscious.

He was stunned for no more then a second, at which then he realized he could either save her, or leave her to her fate.

Lucien’s mind was racing- what in the name of Sithis was he supposed to do now? She had made a mistake, she had stood there like a fool, staring at the dead body, and been caught unawares when the guard came. She should have to face a fate befit of her actions. Yet she had executed the man perfectly, finally completing what three other Dark Brotherhood members had attempted. Albeit she did have an easier job of it, because Phillida was now retired, but still… she was valuable to the Brotherhood, and may become even more so in the near future. Her contracts before this had been flawless. Ocheeva always spoke highly of her abilities, along with her mental state. She was strong, she was skilled, and she was important.

Yes, that’s why. She was needed for the guild. He would save her because of the Brotherhood’s need for her. Satisfied with his reasoning, Lucien bent down and scooped up Adrienne’s light frame without another instant’s hesitation, and cast an invisibility spell on the both of them.

He was at the city gate before the guard’s had started to search the alley where her body had lain, balancing Adrienne over his right shoulder. She was no heavy load, and he was not slowed down much by her weight. He was to the place he had left his horse, Shadowmere, in a few moments.

As Lucien hoisted Adrienne up onto the steed, a piece of parchment fluttered out from the folds of her skirt. It seemed as though it had been folded and unfolded many times, and by the coloration looked as though it had seen better days. It landed next to a small puddle in the slightly muddy ground, a corner instantly saturated.

Lucien bent down swiftly and scooped it from the ground, wiping the dirt and droplet of water with a black gloved hand. His eyes darted to Adrienne’s unconscious form, slumped over the neck of his dark steed, and back to the parchment. He couldn’t deny his curiosity, for this piece of paper obviously held some importance to the girl if she kept it on her person, and it seemed very old because of its condition…

After sending one last furtive glance at Adrienne, and a quick look down the road, Lucien carefully peeled apart the edges of the parchment with lean and steady fingers, wary of tearing the fragile material. It was a long bit of parchment, and was filled with writing. He scanned it, quickly bored when he realized it was a letter to a gift giving service, requesting presents for the writer’s children. He was bewildered- Adrienne did not have a family, or children… or could she?

But as he skipped to the end of the letter, to the signature at the bottom- he then understood. It was signed “Perennia Draconis”- the woman who Adrienne had murdered up in the little cottage up North. She had carried this with her, since the day she murdered her? Adrienne carried this letter on her person? Was this a sign of weakness, of guilt? Or was it something else; a reminder, or a comfort?

He thought once again of her hesitation, her moment of weakness after the killing of Phillida- there was no denying she had enjoyed the kill, that had been quite evident. Yet she had stared into the man’s face and been engrossed in thought, so much so that she had been caught completely unawares by the guards. Could she really have felt guilt, even after killing for so long? Lucien did not think this was the case, although it would be the most straightforward explanation.

There were those who looked at killing as simply a profession, a way to earn money; some who killed for the feeling of being completely in control, of playing god; some who killed on impulse, without control or thought- but most had something in common- they killed without emotional attachment. Lucien had found, however, that those who murdered with passion, with emotion- they could be just as effective. He thought of killing as an art, each death a masterpiece on the great canvas created by Sithis, and his Night Mother. He could not help how he felt, it was just what he believed, what he was. And he was starting to wonder if Adrienne was the same.

Now pensive, Lucien carefully folded the letter up again and slid it into the folds of Adrienne’s dress, patting it into place- and he could not help but note the firmness of her leg muscle as he did so. He was still for a moment, his hand upon her leg, before he suddenly turned about, looked down the ominously misty road, and pulled his black hood far over his face. He hopped lightly onto Shadowmere’s high back, reining her in and turning the horse about, keeping Adrienne balanced between his arms.

The black mare reared, pranced in place a bit, before setting off in full gallop, heading East around the city of Leyawiin. Lucien leaned far over the horse’s back, holding firmly Adrienne against his chest. He reckoned this horse was the fastest in Cyrodiil, and that was no light claim. At this rate, they would be in Cheydinhaal in less than five hours. Lucien was bringing her back the Sanctuary- he felt that she needed to be taken far away from the crime, and the most obvious safe place for her was the Sanctuary. And, part of him did wish to visit the Sanctuary, for reasons he would never admit too.

And so he sped off into the night; his dark eyes gleaming as the wind blew his hood back and his freed hair whipped back in the breeze, with arms tight around the limp form of Adrienne.

* * *

Four and a half hours later Lucien brought Shadowmere to a halt outside the back gate into Cheydinhaal. He swiftly slid from the horse’s back, robes billowing in the midnight breeze, and slipped Adrienne off into his arms. Balancing her carefully, he gave Shadowmere a whack on the rump and watched as the horse ran up a trail to the West.

He turned about quickly, his hood still hanging loosely at his shoulders, and slipped into the city, making his way to the Abandoned House as swiftly and silently as he could. He slipped between shadow and shade, dodging the eyes of the patrolling guardsmen.

Lucien opened the door to the Abandoned House awkwardly, straining not to drop Adrienne as he stepped into the thin door frame sideways, her feet bumping roughly against the stone. He stopped in his tracks, holding his breath as she gave a little moan and shifted her muscles- but he let out a relieved sigh when she did not wake.

He descended the stairs into the basement quickly, and shuffled through narrow tunnel leading to the door. He hastily uttered the password, not letting the door finish its words before he shoved it open roughly and strode to his right. It was very late at night, and he fervently hoped that all of the Sanctuary’s members were asleep in their beds…

Lucien walked softly down the corridor into the Living Quarters, his feet treading gently upon the stone floors. There was a sudden noise that sounded almost like an explosion, causing Lucien to nearly drop Adrienne in alarm- but as he stood dead still, leaning against the wall of the corridor, the sound came again seconds later… and again… and he grinned ruefully to himself. It was simply someone snoring- and by the sounds of it, the only one who could create such a ruckus would be Gogron Gro-Bolmog.

When he finally came to the room, he found that three of the beds were filled- and by the shape and size of the lumps he could deduce that they were Gogron, M’raaj Dar, and Antoinetta. They all seemed to be sleeping soundly, despite the absurd volume of Gogron’s snores.

Lucien went to the bed next to the smallest lump of covers, which he now knew for certain was Antoinetta because of the mess of blond hair poking out from above the rim of the blanket. He laid Adrienne down tenderly on the mattress, pulling aside the covers and placing her beneath them. Had he been concentrating more on his surroundings and less on ensuring Adrienne’s comfort, he may have noticed two eyes snap open behind him, watching him intently as he leaned over Adrienne’s motionless form.

Lucien swept a stray hair from Adrienne’s forehead with his thumb, cupping her face with his hands. After a moment, he leaned down and pressed his lips softly against her forehead. He pulled up quickly, but hovered inches above her face, and murmured: “Blessings of the Night Mother, my dear Child,” before standing straight again.

He did not see as the eyes behind him narrowed, or the white-knuckled fist that clenched a fold of blanket in response to his actions. Lucien walked to the center of the room and paused; a flood of memories hit him quite suddenly, and most unexpectedly. He remembered the times he spent in this room, when he was no more then a Murderer for the Dark Brotherhood… he remembered those who he had spent his time with, his fellow assassins... most were dead now, lost during contracts. An assassin should expect such things, but it would take a lot before one would become used to them. And, as he had learned, there was no use thinking of such things, for you could do nothing to change them.

As Lucien stirred himself from such foolish meditations, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. There were two pairs of feet, he decided- and they sounded very much alike in gait and step… and Lucien recognized the walks, out of familiarity. Ocheeva and Teinaava were approaching, and he was cornered. It wasn’t that he feared them, or that he had any reason not to see them, Lucien reasoned. It was just that their knowing of his deed could complicate things. That’s all he cared for, he convinced himself.

But there was not anything he could do now, except face the twin Shadowscales. He could hear that they were talking in low voices, but their tone was excited. Lucien continued to walk, meeting them in the doorway to the Living Quarters. They did not seem surprised to see him, for they had both probably heard his approach as he had heard their’s.

“Dearest Speaker! It is an honor to have you among us- tell me, have you come to celebrate the news of Phillida’s demise?” Teinaava exclaimed, affectionately clapping Lucien on the shoulder.

“How do you know of Phillida’s death?” he asked sharply.

Teinaava looked taken aback at his tone, but Ocheeva answered smoothly.

“I felt my heart soar with Sithis’ love the moment the pig drew his last breath. And it seems, by your reaction, that I am not wrong…” she trailed off, gazing at Lucien expectantly. Teinaava, however, was looking around Lucien, at the bed where Adrienne lay. Lucien did not answer Ocheeva, but watched as Teinaava recognized the bed’s occupant.

“Adrienne! She’s back! But how…” but Teinaava too trailed off. He raised his eyes slowly to Lucien, and then darted back to Adrienne, and to Lucien again. The unmistakable signs of dawning comprehension appeared on his face, and Lucien gave a silent sigh. Ocheeva sensed there was something she was missing, and followed her brother’s eyes from the bed and to Lucien. They both started at him, their eyes perplexed, but in the same sense an understanding within them. Lucien knew he had to say something.

“I brought her here to keep her safe- I’m sure she will fill you in on the details. One thing before I depart however; do not tell her it was I that brought her here. If she asks, as I’m sure she will, simply inform her that a Brotherhood courier was responsible, or any other suitable story you can think of.”

There was a silence, in which both Ocheeva and Teinaava nodded their heads obediently- but Teinaava was fidgeting, and Lucien knew he wished to speak.

“But won’t she know it was you? Won’t it be rather obvious?” he blurted out. Ocheeva sent him a dark look, and then turned to Lucien apologetically. Lucien’s expression turned hard at the question, but his tone was even when he replied.

“She was not aware of my presence, so no Teinaava, it will not be obvious; quite the opposite, really…”

At these words, Teinaava looked at Lucien with such a maddening sense of understanding that Lucien felt a sudden fiery anger ignite within him- the Argonian’s expression was one of a parent who understood the dilemma of their child, but could only watch and let the child learn for themselves what the outcome would be. He, Lucien, was no child, and there was nothing in this situation that should illicit such a reaction.

Yet Lucien kept his expression neutral, knowing from experience that there was no use arguing with the pair, once they had made their minds up about something. He instead pretended to ignore the implications of Teinaava’s look, and spoke again in a more business-like tone.

“Now I really must be going, I have important business to attend to this night, and I’m behind schedule already…” Teinaava’s face fell as Lucien nodded to the two and started to walk away; the Shadowscale’s expression seemed almost disappointed, as though he felt pity… but then a sound came from behind them.

All three turned to find Antoinetta sitting up in her bed, putting on a great show of yawning and stretching, before drowsily speaking.

“What’s going on?” She asked, looking at the group of them. She then dramatically widened her eyes and tilted her head. “Speaker! What a surprise! Tell me, what brings you here?”

Lucien ground his teeth; if he wanted to reach Alval before the Dunmer left for Bravil, he would have to leave now. He had not wanted to be seen by any of the member’s of the Sanctuary, yet now here he stood with three of them waiting to hear the story of Phillida’s demise, and his explanation for being at the Sanctuary. He did not wish what could be his last meeting with them to be ended harshly, but he really needed to be going…

Antoinetta had climbed out of her bed and was making her way to the group, her eyes set eagerly upon Lachance. He knew he had to extricate himself now, or be stuck with the woman’s incessant chattering for hours.

“Teinaava and Ocheeva will explain. And now I really must go- Night Mother be with you all, in this life and the next” Lucien said briskly, and he swiveled on his heel, marching up the corridor with long strides before any of the three could reply.

If he had waited just a moment, he would have seen the crestfallen face of Antoinetta turn to one of resentment and bitterness, her eyes narrowed and lips tight. And then he might have noticed how Teinaava and Ocheeva exchanged ominous looks.

Things that had been brewing long beneath the surface were starting to emerge, and that strain would only make the outcome more explosive when finally unveiled. Dark times lay ahead, even darker then Ocheeva, Teinaava, or even Adrienne could conceive… and they were fast approaching.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Sixteen: The Calm Before the Storm

Dark. Everything was black- I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing... An eternity could seem to pass in the span of seconds, while hours felt like mere moments.

Disorientation. Bewilderment. Nothing made sense. All was a shadowy and dim, with only a flicker of faint light in the distance. I was vaguely aware of my existence in a dark place- and that was all. Everything else was gone, everyone else lifeless and decaying. I was alone.

But suddenly, after what seemed many lifetimes, out of the darkness came the echoing sounds of mirth; of chuckling, snorting laughter.

In a flash of brilliant color, of blinding radiance, everything turned pure and white. I could hear clearly, but still nothing could be seen.

“Remember... remember Ungeval?” More laughter.

“That stupid fetcher, we all knew he was a sorry excuse for an assassin… How the hell he got into the Brotherhood, I’ll never know…” As I listened my hearing became clearer, and with the high pitched Elven voice came the threads of familiarity.

“But by Sithis, we made our feelings for him well known!”

“We were rather cruel… I can’t say that I blame him for trying to prove his worth to us…” came a hissing, gravelly tone; unmistakably an Argonian. I knew that I recognized this voice as well, yet my mind could not connect a face.

“Oh come on, you can’t feel bad for something as pathetic as that vermin was!”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. I feel no pity- only understanding,” was the smooth, patient reply.

A silence followed, and with it I felt a rising alarm, as though I was plunging into the darkness again- but it was broken before my descent was complete.

“Well I feel no… understanding for the bloke. He was a fool, and deserved the fate that befell him.” This voice was a deep, booming sound, most unlike the other two. I recognized it as well, but still could not put a face to it.

“Have you ever even heard the entire story?” asked the Argonian. “No? Well, Ocheeva explained it to me, and I must admit it is rather amusing…” He hissed. “Well you know Ungeval went to the Imperial City, aiming to kill Phillida. Except when he arrived there, he must have realized that he had no idea where to find the honoured user. So he of course decided to start asking around… but here’s the catch- he started asking the guards where to find him!”

“By Sithis!” exclaimed the Elven voice, while the other boomed with a thunderous laughter. The Argonian chuckled before continuing.

“I promise you, it’s gets better- so naturally the guards were suspicious of his motives for finding Phillida, and it soon got round that some fool Bosmer was looking to assassinate him. Instead of simply arresting him, the guards decided to have a bit of fun. One of them told Ungeval to seek out Phillida’s good friend, who would always know his whereabouts… but here’s the catch- it was really Phillida himself they showed him too, who had been told of the situation and plan beforehand!”

All three voices joined in equally malicious laughter.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with it!” cried out the deep voice throatily.

“Ha-ha, well, Ungeval approaches Phillida in the Market District, still unaware of his true identity. Phillida inquires, calm as you please, as to why he, Ungeval, would wish to know the location of such a man. Ungeval replies ‘Are you fond of Adamus?’ (Even though he was just told it was his best friend) Phillida says that he’s not fond of him, quite the opposite really, and so the fetcher Ungeval outright admits that he plans to assassinate him!”

“I can’t believe that I am still surprised at this behavior from him…”

“Wait, wait, there’s more- Phillida then goes on as if to point himself out somewhere behind Ungeval, who of course turns about eagerly- and the Imperial pig casually chops the Bosmer’s head off! Plus, they were standing at the edge of those bathing pools, so the body fell straight into the pool- and Phillida left it there for a week, to show what happens to those that try and kill him!”

As the three voices descended into booming laugher again, my eyes snapped open and the light flooded in, temporarily blinding me. My gaze darted around for several moments as I tried to place my surroundings- the stone ceiling above me, the soft mattress beneath me, the thick wool blankets enveloping me- before I understood where I was. The Sanctuary, in Cheydinhal… and suddenly I could recall the faces of those I heard laughing- Gogron, Telaendril and Teinaava!

I rolled over onto my side and faced towards the noise, but instantly regretted it when my head started to throb relentlessly. I winced in agony, trying to close out wave after wave of pain that flooded my skull. After a calming moment, in which the aching within my head started to subside, I opened my eyes once more.

The laughter had started to die away, and Telaendril (whose face was the only one I could see) was wiping her eyes and sighing comfortably, while Gogron and Teinaava’s forms still shook slightly with content chortles.

I watched them, my mind still buzzing in uncertainty. After a moment, before I could speak, Telaendril’s eyes went past Gogron’s face and met mine. Her expression changed from one of amusement to surprise and concern.

“Adrienne!” she exclaimed. Teinaava immediately swiveled about in his chair, turning to face me, followed shortly by a puzzled Gogron.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Teinaava implored, with concern evident in his tone.

I was about to answer when a sudden realization hit; I didn’t know why my head hurt. The last thing I could remember was falling asleep in the Sanctuary- so what could explain my waking up with an injured skull, not to mention the obvious distress that my family members were in about my condition? I started to feel a swell of something one might call panic, but my thoughts were interrupted by Teinaava’s voice.

“Adrienne, can you not speak? Say something!” I was suddenly aware that the Argonian had risen from his chair and had moved very close to my bed, his brow creased in worry as he watched my expression. Gogron and Telaendril both held similar looks of apprehension. I shook my head slightly before speaking.

“I…” My voice was oddly croaky, so I cleared my throat before continuing. “Yes, I can talk…”

Teinaava let out a sigh at these words, and my other family member’s shoulders seemed to sag a bit at the release of worry. But I was by no means comforted.

“But… why am I here? What happened?” My voice was urgent, and I saw that Teinaava sensed this.

“Well… what do you last remember?” he asked hesitantly.

I cast my gaze inward, trying with great pressure to recall my recent memories. I had been going to sleep, here, in the Sanctuary. But there had been something on my mind, something important... but I could not remember what it was! I concentrated harder- it was just out of my grasp, this memory, but the harder I searched for it, the further it seemed to go from me- like trying to cup water in your palms.

After a moment I sighed heavily, my line of thought broken, and looked at Teinaava. And this reminded me of what he had just been speaking of, to my fellow family members- Ungeval, the incompetent Bosmer… trying to murder Adamus Phillida! The name rang throughout my thoughts, bringing a sudden flood of memories that I was entirely unprepared for.

Image after image flashed through my mind- a young officer, standing beside an elderly man in ornate armor- a small Inn, resembling a fishing shack- a bottle of wine, and a sharp dagger- a figure cloaked in dark, drawing a crimson rose across the neck of a pale figure- a bloody pool, with the corpse of a man floating in it… and oddly enough, a vision of Lucien Lachance, his face shrouded in shadow. And finally I remembered running, guards shouting, objects flying towards me… and pain.

“I was sent to execute Phillida! And I did kill him, I think…but then guards came, and caught me in the act… I tried to run, but something hit my head… and it’s all black after that…” I finished.

He seemed pleased that I was able to recall this much, and nodded slightly in consent to my words before sitting down at the foot of my bed.

“Yes, you finally completed what three of your brothers could not! Phillida lies dead, his soul sent to Sithis and his body burned. It is a time for celebration within the Brotherhood, with you as our champion!”

Telaendril gave a little whoop of merriment, but Gogron gave a groan of despair. We all turned to him quizzically. He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we celebrated Adrienne’s triumphs? Hmm? We had to clean up a battlefield of broken bottles, I ended up with a headache that lasted for days, and am still suffering from a sore back because of sleeping on that bloody table all night! And plus, Ocheeva’ll have our hides if she hears of another party!”

He then glared at the three of us with such a sulky expression that we could not help but laugh. At first he seemed to grow irritable, but then he considered how humorous the situation was and joined in not long after. My head still throbbed, intensified by the laughter, but it was not nearly unbearable.

But as my laughter started to fade, my thoughts went back again to my situation. I still had many questions- what had happened after I blacked out, and how had I gotten back here? Was there something I couldn’t remember?

I looked up and saw that while Gogron and Telaendril seemed quite comfortable and unbothered, Teinaava was anxiously watching me. I was surprised by his look, for it seemed as though he was anticipating something bad to happen at any moment, concerning me. I wondered if it had anything to do with what I had been worrying about, and decided it was time to find out.

“I still don’t understand something- how did I get here? I can’t remember past my black out, but here I am…”

His face clouded for a second, as though he was thinking deeply on how to phrase his next words, and after a moment he glanced over at Telaendril and Gogron before continuing.

“The only explanation I can think of is that the luck of the Night Mother was with you, my dear sister. A courier, a servant of our unholy Matron, was in Leyawiin delivering news to our members there, and sighted you…” he paused here, as if unsure how to continue. “…whilst killing Adamus Phillida. He then watched as guards chased you, and when he saw you had been hit, he felt that the Night Mother had placed him there for a reason- he could not let the murderer of Adamus Phillida be captured when it was within his power to stop it. And so he swept you up from beneath their noses, and brought you here,” Teinaava concluded.

I eyed him carefully, trying to understand what had made that explanation feel so… off. For it had- I could not shake the feeling that something he spoke of was not entirely true, or that the truth had not been completely told. I considered Teinaava my closest family member, and felt that I had an accurate understanding of his ways- and there was definitely something unusual going on here.

Before I could wonder what in the name of Sithis he could be trying to hide in the current situation, however, my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Blessed by the Night Mother indeed...”

I looked towards the archway leading into the Living Quarters, already knowing whom I would see there- Vicente Valtieri. There was no mistaking his eloquent, silky voice. He acknowledged each of us with a nod of his head, turning to me last. He spoke again, his fangs slipping out of his lips in a rather cheeky smile.

“Wasn’t it I who first labeled you as blessed- ‘a gift from the Night Mother herself?’ I think it is quite apparent now, looking at your accomplishments, that you must be… at least to some extent…”

I hung my head modestly, not really sure how to reply to such a statement. When I looked up again though, I found that the vampire’s eyes were trained directly upon me, and so intense was his gaze that I got the distinct impression that he could read my very thoughts.

“C’mon Vicente, you’re embarrassing her!” cried Teinaava good-naturedly, after a moment of rather awkward silence. The Argonian clapped an arm on Vicente’s shoulder, as though to draw the vampire out of the reverie he seemed to be experiencing- but Valtieri ignored his words and continued, eyes never leaving my face.

“The blessings of a powerful force are always a burden to carry. It has been said that if you are favored, or ‘chosen’ by the Gods, that one may also call you cursed, for you serve them devoutly, obey their every desire, yet they take from you everything. To be blessed by the Gods is to be alone…and what you are blessed by, my child, is not even a God; for Sithis is such petty influences. You are blessed by the very forces that keep our world spinning. You are ‘blessed’ by something greater then even a God…”

I felt a chill run down my spine, and had to draw my gaze from Vicente’s- there was something in his stare that I had never seen before, something that I couldn’t describe… but it frightened me with its intensity, its power. My eyes darted to Teinaava’s face, and saw that his expression was one of alarm and bewilderment, a look most probably echoing my own.

“Adrienne-” The voice was commanding. I raised my eyes slowly, hesitantly, until they met Vicente’s. “-no matter what, we decide our own fates. The forces of this land may choose to interfere with us mortals in order to gain their own desires, but their influence can only extend so far. The final choice is always, always yours, and yours alone. Make sure you chose the right path.”

As I looked into Vicente’s eyes, I abruptly had a flash again of my dream- dark robes swelling about in a pool of blood, enveloping a figure in black who was slowly drawing the thorns of a rose across my neck, my own hand aiding it- before it was gone, for he had dropped his gaze. Unexpectedly my head felt light, and the room too large, almost like an empty void- I gasped for air, suddenly out of breath.

Vicenete Valtieri was turning to leave now, his black traveling cloak billowing out behind him.

“I hope I find you all in good health, and I shall see you later for supper. Now excuse me, I have some business that I must attend to…” And he was gone.

A stunned silence followed this rather abrupt departure. We listened to Valtieri's heavy boots clunk down the hallway, creating a haunting echo, until they could be heard no more.

The silence was broken by Teinaava clearing his throat, sounding hesitant to speak. I looked up at him, and found that he was staring at me with wonder and concern. I broke from his gaze and turned toward to Telaendril, whose expression was similar to that of Teinaava’s. Finally, I looked to Gogron. He was staring at the doorway that Vicente had just exited through, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyebrow furrowed comically.

“That was… odd,” Telaendril said slowly.

“Indeed,” came Teinaava’s reply, his eyes now narrowed in concentration.

“I wouldn’t worry about it- I’ve always thought he was off his rocker.”

Telaendril smiled lightly at Gogron’s words, rolling her eyes amusedly. Teinaava’s lips upturned at the corners, but he was still eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. I too smiled, but I could tell it did not reach my own eyes.

As I thought of these ominous proclamations of Vicente’s, I had a flash of words I had heard before- those of an Argonian Shadowscale, a traitor on the run... “At first, the thrill of a kill was intoxicating; it was all I had, all I needed... But as the years passed, and all of my fellow members, my friends, started dying... The Brotherhood consumes you- it takes everything from you- your ‘normal life’, your sense of morality, your humanity, and finally those you come to love. Oh yes, love…”

“Anyways-” Teinaava said pointedly. “I think it would be a good idea if you went and spoke with Ocheeva, Adrienne. I know there is something she wishes to discuss with you, and she’s been very busy with Black Hand business lately so you may want to try and catch her while she’s in.”

“Shouldn’t she wait until-” Telaendril blurted out, but Teinaava silenced her with a sharp look.

“I think enough time has passed. She should be gone by now- Adrienne, go see Ocheeva,” he repeated. I was about to ask who he was speaking of, but he shook his head and pointed sternly toward the door.

Although my curiosity at what Ocheeva needed to chat with me about (and Telaendril’s little exclamation) did steal much of my attention, my unease about Vicente’s words could not be shaken. It was as though he had laid a cloud of dread over my very soul, and nothing I could do would abate it.

I nodded at Teinaava, and expressed my gratitude to Gogron and Telaendril for being so supportive, before making my way to Ocheeva’s room. As I approached the thick doors, I was surprised to hear the dull sound of raised voices resonating from within.

“I absolutely refuse to clean up her mess! I don’t care what the reward is, I will not do it!”

“This is for the good of the Brotherhood- you are not only protecting her, you are protecting us! Is your loyalty to the Brotherhood so easily swayed by such a trivial matter?”

There was a moment of silence, and I was hastily trying to understand what was going on. The voices were most definitely that of Ocheeva and Antoinetta- but what were they discussing? And did it pertain to me, because I had a nasty feeling that it may...

“Fine. I’ll do it.” That was Antoinetta’s voice.

In that split second I had the sense to dart back into the hall to the Living Quarters, positioning myself behind the doorway as to not be sighted by the woman exiting Ocheeva’s room, who was quite obviously in an extremely foul mood. Antoinetta Marie stalked to the doorway leading out of the Sanctuary, a traveling pack on her back and her eyes hard with anger.

I could not help but feel a little thrill of smugness that she had been driven to such a level of anger and frustration, but could not shake the (rather arrogant) notion that her problem had something to do with me. There was no one within the Sanctuary that I believed she would have such a problem with, and would react that way to the proposition of helping them… and I had just been a part of an apparently sticky situation…

Ocheeva’s doors had remained open, but I waited several moments before entering cautiously. She was seated at the table, reading a piece of parchment with her brow furrowed. She looked up when I entered the room, and in the instant before a pleased smile appeared on her face, I could not help but notice how weary she seemed.

“Ah, Adrienne! You’re awake already,” she said, rising and placing the parchment down on the table. I noticed that it was filled top to bottom with writing. “How are you feeling?”

“Quite well, thank you- a bit of a headache, but it will pass,” I replied. “My memory was a bit confused at first, but I think I have a clear recollection of events now.”

“Yes, yes- that is very good. So what exactly do you remember?”

I gave Ocheeva a look of surprise- her tone was, like Teinaava’s, a bit unusual. She seemed to be tense, and wary of saying something wrong, of making sure that what I remembered would be all she spoke off. What was going on? Was I missing something?

I rehashed the story I told to Teinaava and the others, watching her expression carefully. When I spoke of Teinaava’s story of the courier, and how I could not recall anything past being struck in the head, her shoulders sagged and she seemed almost resigned.

“Yes, it was quite the stroke of luck that someone was there to aid you. Speaking of those events, I have something that I think you would enjoy to read…” she turned back to her table and picked up the piece of parchment she had been reading. For the first time, I read the heading at the top.

“SPECIAL EDITION!
ADAMUS PHILLIDA SLAIN
BY DARK BROTHERHOOD!”

Ocheeva arched her eyebrow in a good-natured manner, and handed the parchment over. I read on.

“In what can only be described as a blatant assault on the security and liberty of the civilized people of Cyrodiil, retired Imperial Legion commander Adamus Phillida was brutally murdered by the secretive assassins guild known as the Dark Brotherhood. The slaying occurred in the sleepy town of Leyawiin, where Phillida had chosen to spend the remainder of his days. It was to be a life of quiet solitude, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Imperial City, where Phillida had served the Imperial Legion proudly for more than twenty-five years.

But even in retirement, the noble Legion commander could not escape his past. Throughout the years, Adamus Phillida had become a rather vocal opponent of the Dark Brotherhood and its practices, and vowed to expose the organizations' secrets and bring its leaders to justice. Indeed, Phillida had been targeted for assassination in the past, but attempts were thrice thwarted by the commander and his Legion soldiers. Sadly, his luck ran out in Leyawiin. When asked if there was any doubt as to the Dark Brotherhood's involvement in Phillida murder, newly appointed Imperial Legion commander Giovanni Civello had this to say:
'It was the Dark Brotherhood, all right. No question about it. The one who committed the crime, who is described as being of human race, with black hair and blue eyes, was sighted running from the scene of the crime to alley where a man in black robes was also sighted. Black robes that matched that which is considered the trademark of the Brotherhood. Conclusive evidence came when we searched his body- the arrow used to kill him was a fabled weapon of the Brotherhood, called ‘The Rose of Sithis’.

This was a crime of vengeance, a despicable act of hatred and evil against a pinnacle of nobility and virtue. Adamus fought the Dark Brotherhood every day of his life, and he died for what he believed in. Adamus Phillida was a great man. He taught me everything I know, and I'll be damned if I let his dream die with him. From this day forward, I vow to destroy the Dark Brotherhood and everything they stand for!"

There is reason to believe that the assassin was staying the in the town for days
before the crime, and two witnesses have been called to interrogation- Adamus’ bodyguard, Seviil Varo (whose whereabouts during the time of the crime are still unknown) and a local innkeeper, Witseidutsei, are being questioned further. We will keep the public informed of the progress in this ongoing investigation.

Adamus Phillida may be dead, but it would seem his fight against the Dark Brotherhood lives on in Giovanni Civello and the rest of the Imperial Legion. There may soon come a day when those bloodthirsty assassins have more to fear than the good people of the Imperial Province.”

Ocheeva waited until I had finished reading before speaking, her voice neutral and her eyes unsurpassable.

“First of all, I must congratulate you for successfully completing what several of our assassins have failed at- the slaying of one of your chief enemies. Your actions shall most certainly live on long into the Brotherhood’s histories. However… you were seen, and your identity may have been compromised. But the deed is done, and therefore I owe you your payment. You did not complete the task needed for a bonus, so you will only receive a sum of money.”

She untied a rather large pouch from her belt, which clinked and clanged with the unmistakable sound of coins. Ocheeva handed it to me, a bit reverently- I voiced my deep thanks, but she waved a hand blithely.

“You deserve it. Now, onto another matter I wish to discuss with you…” She raised an arm and gripped my shoulder, a firm but friendly gesture.

“I think it would be a good idea if you kept a low profile, at least for awhile. You saw the article- there is already an, although rather vague, description of your appearance, and it would probably be safer for you to remain out of the public eye for the time being. If things go well, the situation could change by the end of the week. But if not… well, we’ll discuss that when the time comes.”

I understood her reasoning, and did not really object to it. I didn’t really have the urge to go strolling about town anyways- but what did she mean, to have it ‘fixed’ soon? I was about to voice this question when all of a sudden something made sense- Antoinetta, talking of ‘cleaning up a mess’… had she been sent to kill witnesses?

I really did wish to ask Ocheeva if my deductions were correct, but that would mean admitting to my eavesdropping (although it could hardly be measured as such, considering the level of their voices), and I would never confess to that. So I only nodded in compliance.

“I’m glad that we understand each other. I will be away for a few days, but when I get back I hope we can speak again in more depth. Your presence has been missed about the Sanctuary, Adrienne,” she finished softly, giving my shoulder a final squeeze.

“Believe me, it will be no hardship to be confined to the walls of this Sanctuary, if our family is here,” I replied.

We both smiled amiably, and bade each other farewell. But I could not impede the flow of uneasy feelings- that both Ocheeva and Teinaava were keeping something from me… something about my murder of Phillida- or rather, my rescue. Nonetheless, I did not wish to show the dishonor and distrust of asking outright for the truth, and I resigned myself to the fact that I would simply have to wait- and listen.

I returned to the Living Quarters to find Teinaava, Telaendril and Gogron in exactly the same places I had left them, still eating and laughing, the mood seemingly restored.

“Don’t you lot have anything better to be doing?” I declared as I sat down beside Teinaava, smirking roguishly.

They all exchanged sheepish grins, but there was mischief in their eyes.

“Ocheeva’ll be gone soon, and then we’ll be free for at least a day or two…” Teinaava said, and Gogron nodded emphatically.

“But she’s not gone yet…” I said, raising my eyebrows suggestively.

“She didn’t… didn’t say she was coming down here, did she?” Teinaava asked, suddenly looking alarmed. Gogron had grown alert and was also anxiously watching me for my reply- even Telaendril seemed nervous.

I kept my face neutral, trying to maintain an expression of innocence.

“Well of course she is!” I exclaimed.

There was a moment of silence, in which the three stared back at me with horror in their eyes- and abruptly they leapt into action, leaping up from their seats frantically.

“She wouldn’t leave without saying farewell to her dear baby brother…” I added.
All three suddenly became motionless and turned to face me suspiciously. Teinaava’s expression was incredulous- I tried to keep my face straight, but I failed dismally, dissolving into a gleeful laughter.

They seemed shocked and stunned at first, but slowly their shoulders sagged in relief, a bemused expression on Teinaava’s face. Telaendril heaved a great sigh and flopped back onto her seat, while Teinaava sat down slowly, shaking his head and laughing silently in amusement.

Gogron, however, remained standing- his eyes were still wide in shock, and his face was contorted into an expression of indignation. He pointed a thick, shaking finger at me.

“That… that was not funny…” he said slowly, shaking his head.

“Yes it was!” I replied, bursting into laughter once again.

Teinaava and Telaendril gave a (rather relieved sounding) chuckle, and Gogron glared at them before sitting, grumpily grabbing an apple and taking a huge, chomping bite.

“Trying to give me a heart attack…” he muttered darkly, granting us with a remarkable view of the half-chewed apple in his mouth.

The meal passed by in similar fashion- with jokes and jibes, laugher echoing throughout the hall. When we had each eaten our full (and this was a considerable amount, considering that Gogron was present) we leaned back in our seats and sighed contently- all except Telaendril. She had risen from her chair and was stretching her stiff muscles.

“Speaking of things to do, I actually have to be in Bravil by nightfall- I’ll have to be going soon.”

“Oh, do you have a contract?” I asked while watching her start to pack a travel bag, eager to hear the details.

“No, no- unfortunately not. I’ve been assigned to take monthly trips to Bravil, Leyawiin, and the Imperial City, by Ocheeva- for security reasons,” she replied, sliding a rather nasty looking dagger into some hidden sheath on her upper leg.

“Security reasons? I didn’t know that members like us dealt with that sort of thing. I thought that was the job of couriers and such,” I responded.

“Yes, this is a special case. We’ve actually had a shortage of couriers lately- they’ve been dying off rather quickly. However, seeing as I’m really the only member of this Sanctuary who can roam freely about the streets and cities without causing a raucous, and I have been told that I posses a talent for subterfuge… well, this lovely task has fallen upon me.” Her tone was slightly bitter. “Qualities I had hoped would help me advance have instead forbidden me from doing so.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way- your work for the Brotherhood is invaluable. You should be proud that you are not like the rest of us- not confined to the Sanctuary for most of our lives.” Teinaava’s words were sincere, and Telaendril gave him a thankful smile.

I hadn’t ever noticed it before, but now that I thought about it, nearly every time I was at the Sanctuary generally everyone was present as well. I had never considered it odd before, but now I realized that I was probably the one who spent the least amount of time within its walls. And I had never even contemplated that my family members’ reasoning behind this could be unintentional or involuntary.

“For the amount of time you have been an assassin, it is incredible that you are blessed with the amount of freedom that you enjoy,” continued Teinaava. “Most assassins have to retreat to lives of seclusion and isolation after a certain amount of time on the job- you can only go so long, can only commit so murders before you slip up just once, and your face becomes known. The fact that you still remain perfectly unsuspected is quite a feat.”

“I suppose so…” Telaendril said humbly, but her face was shining with pride.

“I was a convict after my first kill… and ah, what a bloodbath it was- I took out at least ten guards before my escape!” Gogron proudly declared, his eyes glassy in memory. “Haven’t really been out much since, seeing as the Guard wouldn’t even hesitate to kill me on sight...”

“And it seems Adrienne may be joining us soon enough,” said Teinaava, after rolling his eyes at Gogron’s comment. He turned to me, his expression torn between pity and satisfaction. “Your face may be well known, if the witnesses speak…”

“I don’t think I will find it difficult to withdraw from the public life,” I replied, smiling lightly. “It’s not like I was ever an esteemed member of the community anyways.”

We all chuckled, each reflecting on our own standings within society. What I said was true- I really didn’t think I would mind extracting myself from the community outside of the Brotherhood. It wasn’t like I was involved in anything outside of the guild anyways- but something I would miss was the freedom to go where I wished. If and when the witnesses spoke, they would in all certainty reveal my name, and detailed descriptions of my appearance. That meant I would most likely not be able to even walk on the streets without suspicion. That I supposed I would miss… but like with everything else, I concluded, I would grow used to the situation, and adapt accordingly.

A moment later, Telaendril rose from her kneeling position and swung her bag over her shoulders, heaving a sigh.

“Well, I’m off!” she said, starting to walk towards the archway.

“When will you be returning?” I asked, and she turned back.

“I should be back in a week, maybe a day or two later- but hopefully no longer than that,” she said, her eyes darkening at the prospect of such a lengthy trip.

“May you walk always in the Shadows of Sithis,” we said in farewell, and she returned the send-off wearily, before turning back and striding off down the hallway.

* * *

Life at the Sanctuary in the days following this was pleasant and idyllic, for the only two factors that I felt could disrupt its tranquility were both not present- Antoinetta Marie was off fulfilling the contract I had overheard of, and M’raaj Dar was collecting shipments from Skyrim up in Bruma.

I spent much of my free time sleeping in the Living Quarters, for my constant headache was only starting to abate slightly, no matter what method my family members or I could contrive to defeat it. Teinaava slipped me some scrolls of Ocheeva’s that he would nick occasionally to assuage hangovers, Gogron suggested an ancient form of Orcish massage that would supposedly relieve the pain in my head by kneading it out with a method that I felt sounded absolutely horrifying (I respectfully declined his offer), and Vicente even tried a Vampiric procedure involving herbs that stunk up the Living Quarters for hours afterwards.

On the fourth night after Telaendril had made her departure, Ocheeva finally returned to the Sanctuary. She dropped down from the well ladder to find Vicente, Teinaava and I in the Entry Hall, reading a Black Horse Courier Issue entitled “Anvil Tarts Thwarted”, finding its contents extremely amusing.

She greeted us warmly, and we informed her of the little news around the Sanctuary during her absence. She seemed in even lower spirits then she had been at her departure, and I saw that Teinaava noticed this as well. We inquired about her trip, but her response was vague and offhanded.

And before we could question her further, Ocheeva excused herself and retired to her room for rest after the long journey. Almost immediately afterwards, Vicente bade us a farewell and headed off towards the well ladder- presumably to get some fresh air, for night had surely fallen by now. Teinaava and I exchanged a look, our eyes each signaling that we should get out of the hearing range of Ocheeva- and so we slipped down the hallway into the Living Quarters, treading lightly as not to wake Gogron, who was snoring loudly in his bed.

“I am worried about Ocheeva,” Teinaava whispered to me, his voice full of concern. We had sat down at the round table, and he was across from me. I could only see his eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room. “She has not been herself lately- she has always worked hard, yes… but recently she has been straining herself more so then ever, yet she does not give any sign of ever taking a break. And whenever she returns from her now numerous trips, there is never good news. Times are dark for the Brotherhood, Adrienne- whispers of a traitor are being heard in greater frequency than ever before.”

“A traitor?” I hissed back, my voice incredulous.

“Yes, a betrayer of our Tenets. There has been suspicion for over a year now, but lately the signs have been almost too hard to miss. Couriers, servants of our Dark Matron, are disappearing without a trace- and even a Brotherhood assassin has been killed, and not while serving a contract. Whoever committed these murders knew things that they couldn’t have without having been a member of the Brotherhood.”

“I had no idea…” I muttered. I have to admit I was rather irked that something of such gravity had been going on within the guild without my slightest knowledge- this news had taken me completely by surprise.

“Not many do- the only reason I am aware of the situation is because of the bond Ocheeva and I share. You know that we are egg mates, twins- we share a link because of it, to this very day. We can sense the other’s emotion, if it is strong enough. And when she learned of these events, I felt her distress, and convinced her to share her burden with me.”

“I never knew that your connection was so strong,” I remarked, a bit impressed. “But what did she say of the traitor?”

“She couldn’t discuss much in detail with me-” his voice cut off as Gogron shifted in his bed, rolling over to face us. We sat completely still, waiting to see if the Orc would awake. After a moment of silence Gogron’s snoring resumed, and Teinaava continued in a lower tone. “-She couldn’t go into much detail with me because of the difference in our rank. I could normally care less about our standings with the Brotherhood, but that day was one that I felt the disadvantages of being lower ranked. All she could tell me was that there had been deaths (which was already pretty commonly known), and that a traitor was suspected.”

“I can’t believe that someone would betray the Brotherhood- it’s an inconceivable notion in my eyes,” I murmured, shaking my head slightly.

“To I as well- and what worries me most is that recently Ocheeva has been deeply stressed and troubled by the even more current events, but refuses to speak with me about them. Things must not be going well at all for this to happen- and it is in turn causing me great worry. A traitor, within our midst… perhaps even within this very Sanctuary…”

Those ominous words haunted my dreams that night, and the feeling of dread that had descended upon me after Vicente’s warning had not left me- it was only growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Seventeen: The Beginning of the End

I slept late the next morning, my headache having returned with such a great intensity in the middle of the night that I had ended up drinking a sleeping draught, for I could not rest otherwise. There was still a dull throbbing, but it was once again bearable- a swelling had sprung up a few days after the incident, and the mound had reached what felt as though the size of an egg- but it had started to shrink in size.

No one else was in the Living Quarters, so I guessed that I had slept past noon. I knew that Teinaava had been given a contract (he had told me of it last night- it was a citizen of Cheydinhal, so I expected he would return before nightfall), and Vicente had left the Sanctuary for a “human blood-collection excursion”. I wondered vaguely if anyone else was in the Sanctuary, and hoped to find something to entertain myself while confined to these walls.

After eating a light breakfast, I head upstairs to find that Gogron was sitting in the Entry Hall, reading a scrap of parchment- I saw a header of “The Black Horse Courier”, and thought of the article from the night before.

“Isn’t that story absolutely hilarious?” I said cheerily, (happy to have found someone to talk with), and sat down in the chair opposite him.

He looked up, his brow furrowed and eyes perplexed. I cocked my head quizzically in return, for I had been sure that Gogron would have found the article- which was about a gang of females who had tricked men into giving up their treasures using their womanly wiles- most amusing.

“I don’t think you’ve seen this one…” he replied, and he handed over the parchment with a somewhat reluctant face.

I looked down at the parchment and read the heading:

“INVESTIGATION HALTED!
INTEGRAL WITNESSES DEAD!
DARK BROTHERHOOD INVOLVMENT CONFIRMED!”

And before I read on, I knew exactly what the article was about, and was sure it would confirm my suspicions about Antoinetta’s anger over a contract.

“Just two days after the murder of respected ex-Legion officer, Adamus Phillida, two witnesses who could have revealed the identity of his murderer have been announced dead.

A local Argonian innkeeper, whose name is reported as ‘Witseidutsei’, was found dead in the storage room of her inn last night. Her presence was reported missing when she failed to attend an interview by local Legionary representatives pertaining to the death of Phillida. She had given a statement that the description released on the murderer matched that of a patron of her inn, and that the Argonian might have some information that could aid in the investigation. What she was able to reveal before her death included the involvement of one Seviil Varo, the bodyguard of the late Adamus Philida.

According to reports, a friend, who was helping search after the Legion representatives had inquired about her location, found Witseitdutsei’s body in her inn; her throat had been cut, and a struggle had evidently taken place, made obvious by the state of disarray in the storage room. A representative spoke of the tragic event, saying that it“…confirms the involvement of the Dark Brotherhood, for this horrific crime is clearly a cover-up. One of their own was in danger, and so they killed the one who could reveal her. We are quite clearly dealing with a group of sick individuals.”

The second death is that of Seviil Varo, the bodyguard of Adamus Phillida. Apparently he was nowhere near the scene of the crime, and his involvement in the murder was brought under question. This was before, however, the now-confirmed rumor had been spread that he had been seduced by the very assassin that killed the old man, and had been indisposed of by her while the crime was being committed.

The public response to this exposure was swift and condemnatory, leaving the man crushed and overwhelmed by society’s disapproval. He also did not show up once summoned yesterday by the Imperial Legion representatives, and when Varo’s house was searched, a suicide note was found, describing his plans to throw himself into the rivers surrounding Leyawiin- ‘I let everyone down, so this is it. Goodbye cruel Empire! I'm ending it all!’, he wrote. He has not been seen after the discovery of this note, and was officially proclaimed dead yesterday evening.

It has been a tragic week indeed for those who fight the evil in our realm- but we can only hope that the one responsible for the death of Phillida, and ultimately that of Witseidutsei and Seviil Varo, will one day receive the retribution that they deserve for their wicked deeds.”

I read the paper with a small smile on my face, skimming to the end. This confirmed what I had suspected- I now had no doubt in my mind that Antoinetta had been sent by Ocheeva to kill Witseidutsei and Seviil Varo, as a cover-up for me. It also explained why Ocheeva had said that I could be free to roam the streets by the end of the week, for she realized that if Antoinetta was successful I would not have much to worry about in the terms of recognition from the public.

Gogron was watching me, his expression inquiring. I realized that it would seem rather odd if I was not surprised by the news, as I was not going to admit to having overheard the conversation between Ocheeva and Antoinetta, and that I should probably act the part.

I molded my expression into one of shock and perplexity, and I opened my mouth and closed it several times, as though on the verge of speech.

“Were we… was one of the Brotherhood sent to kill them? Why wasn’t I told?” I eventually asked.

Gogron put forth a rather pitiful attempt of seeming ignorant, but his almost eyes darted about almost comically (presumably trying to feign innocence) and his rigid composure gave him away almost immediately. He could not meet my eyes, and instead looked towards the floor guiltily, almost like a dog who knows he has been caught doing wrong.

“Gogron…” I said, my voice sounding a tad threatening. “Look me in the eyes…”

He raised his eyes slowly, reluctantly, and met mine, grimacing in dread.

“Tell me what you know,” I said slowly, deliberately. I found it quite amusing that I, who was about half Gogron’s size, could intimidate him so.

“You should speak to Ocheeva!” he exclaimed suddenly, as though surprised he had not thought of it before. “She’ll tell you need to know- it was her that told us not to mention it to you anyways.”

I raised my eyebrows, and his eyes widened in alarm- I don’t think he was supposed to have told me that, I thought wryly. Quite suddenly, in a flash of movement that I would have never expected the hefty Orc capable of, Gogron had darted past me and was heading for the ladder.

“Gogron!” I cried out, before starting to follow him as he climbed hastily up the ladder- but he turned and held up a palm.

“No! Ocheeva said to stay in the Sanctuary- you can’t follow me up here!”

And he was gone through the well cover, leaving me behind, chuckling lightly.

Ocheeva rarely left the Sanctuary except for the trips with (what one would be presume) the Black Hand- and since she had just returned from one, I assumed I would find her somewhere within the Sanctuary.

I checked her room, but found that she was absent- so I then made my way into the Training Room, the Living Quarters, and even checked in with the nappingVicente- but I could not find her anywhere. I was walking back through the Entry Hall, a bit perplexed, when she suddenly dropped down from the well ladder.

“Ocheeva! There is something I need to speak with you about-” I started, brandishing the Black Horse Courier article- but she raised her hand for silence.

“But I must speak with you first- it is quite urgent,” she said, and I fell silent, the parchment falling to my side. She seemed quite serious, and I felt my attention completely torn from my original purpose.

“I have just received a sealed letter from a Dark Brotherhood courier. I recognize this type of parcel. It contains sealed orders. It's addressed to you...”

“Sealed orders? Who sends sealed orders-”

“…from Lucien Lachance,” she finished, and I fell silent, my mouth agape. “It would seem the Black Hand itself has a task for you.”

“The Black…Black Hand? Lucien Lachance?” I replied faintly, in a bit of shock.

“Indeed, Adrienne- and you must open these sealed orders immediately, and follow their instructions to the letter,” she said sternly, but her expression was kind.

“Yes… yes, of course!”

She handed me an envelope, made of the smoothest, most expensive parchment. The front read simply “Adrienne”, written in an elegant, decorated script. I flipped it over and found that a deep red wax seal held it closed, the insignia consisting of two “L’s” intertwined and circled by the half-moon.

Ocheeva clapped an affectionate hand on my shoulder before making her way to her room, giving me my privacy. Before she closed the doors behind her, however, she turned back and said “Oh yes- I believe it now to be safe and appropriate for you to leave the Sanctuary’s walls.”

Before this would have most probably caught my attention, but my original aim for speaking to Ocheeva had been completely forgotten. The letter, which I held tenderly in my hands, was all I was focused on- a letter from Lucien Lachance himself. I had not seen the enigmatic man since my initiation, which was now months ago. I wondered what the letter could possibly be about…

I tore the seal from the parchment below it with great care, not tearing a piece of the expensive parchment. Once I had it opened, I removed the intricately folded (and equally fine) parchment from within. I found that my hands were shaking slightly as I unfolded it, and a shiver ran down my spine as I started to read the articulate script.

“Eliminator,

You have served the Dark Brotherhood well in the short time you have been with us. Indeed, the rate of your advancement has been rather remarkable. Now the Black Hand itself is in need of your abilities.

You must proceed with all haste to my private refuge in the ruins of Fort Farragut, located in the forest northeast of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. When you arrive, we will discuss the nature of your special assignment.

I cannot stress to you enough the importance of your swift arrival at Fort Farragut. There are unseen powers working to unravel the very fabric of the Dark Brotherhood. The Black Hand is counting on you to prevent this disaster.

Do not share the contents of this message with anyone at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, including Ocheeva, and make no mention of your journey to Fort Farragut! Also, be warned -- my refuge within Fort Farragut is guarded by denizens who will attack any interloper on sight. Get through these rotting sentinels and you will surely have earned the right to visit my private sanctum.

Lucien Lachance”

The name was written extravagantly, with a flourish of loops and lines surrounding his signature. There was no doubt in my mind that this had indeed been composed by Lucien himself- one could recognize the eloquent and fluent words from his speech in his writing instantly.

And as I lowered the letter to my side, I was suddenly aware I was smiling widely, a thrill rising in my stomach. I had a special assignment, from the Black Hand itself! I knew that this did not happen often, for I had discussed it before with Teinaava and Telaendril. And to receive a letter from Lucien Lachance himself, inviting me to the place that he called home… I felt my cheeks burn red, but then chastised myself for such ridiculous and frivolous thoughts. But he had chosen me… over everyone here, he had chosen me…

I was still for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities- before I suddenly leapt into action, as though awaking from a deep sleep from an abrupt sound. I quickly made my way to the Living Quarters and to the chest that I kept my belongings in, searching for something to wear. I held up a looser green shirt, and a form-fitting red vested shirt, and opted for the tighter one- all the while surprised by how steady my hands remained. I pulled on a pair of tight black pants and slipped into my leather boots, which I always used for traveling. It was good to be wearing them again.

I stood up quickly, starting to tie my hair back into it’s customary ponytail- but I stopped in mid-motion, and slowly lowered my hands. My aunt had always said how beautiful my hair looked down, and my family members had echoed the same sentiment after seeing me with my hair down once. And so I left it down, heading out of the well ladder and back into open air again.

* * *

I arrived at the Fort very after only a quarter of an hour of travel, for I was eager to be out of the walls of the musty Sanctuary, and the anticipation for my meeting was nearly overwhelming.

I entered Fort Farragut without worry, believing it to be Lucien’s home, and therefore free of danger- but this thought was quickly proved wrong when an arrow whizzed past my ear, missing my face by inches.

I ducked to the behind a pillar and pulled out my dagger, cursing myself- for I now recalled the last part of the letter- about the “rotting sentinels” that guarded his home. I had only been thinking of the part about getting invited to Lucien’s home.

Another arrow came zipping past my cover, and bounced off the wall in front of me. In my mind I calculated where the creature would be standing from the angle of the shot, and darted around the opposite side of the pillar, dagger outstretched and ready to strike. My foe was a skeleton, holding a rusty old bow and reaching for another arrow. I struck quickly, slicing my dagger against the bones that would have been covered by its neck, snapping them. The skull fell to the floor with a clatter, and the rest of the bones seemed to dissemble before my eyes.

I looked around the old fort, eyeing it distastefully- I now had a feeling this would be more difficult then I had anticipated. I stooped down and picked up the bow and arrow that the felled skeleton had been using, and stuck the quiver on my own back. Stealth was my specialty, and I knew that if I was caught in combat with more then two or three of the skeletons I would most probably be defeated- better to shoot them before they even knew I was there.

And so twenty minutes and thirty arrows later I came to an iron gate, and behind it I could see the obvious signs of inhabitation, and on the walls a tapestry hung, showing the Black Hand of the Dark Brotherhood. I had reached Lucien’s lair, I thought sardonically.

I could not see the man himself within the gate, but the place was not exactly well lit, and many deep shadows dotted the walls- and I knew of his tendency for dramatics. I pulled the lever to open the gate, and as it groaned open I unconsciously found myself adjusting my battle worn clothes and free flying hair. Holding a hand to my dagger’s hilt, just in case, I entered the large chamber.

A solitary bed sat in the corner, with another tapestry above it. Bookcases and tables lay sparsely about the area, and something I think could be recognized as a coffin or sarcophagus sat in front of me. An alchemy set sat on another table, and I could see it was used often. And as I walked further into the room I felt the air grow colder, despite the crackling fireplace- as if a chill had come over me, and I suddenly felt breath upon the back of my neck.

“Welcome to this humble abode, my dear child.”

I turned about quickly, and found Lucien Lachance himself standing inches from me. I took an involuntary step back in alarm, berating myself for having not felt his presence sooner. His eyebrow arched and his lips upturned slightly at the corners, and I realized he was laughing at me.

I took a closer look at the man who had brought me into this assassin lifestyle, and found that not much about him had changed. He still wore the black robes that I had first encountered him with, but they looked quite clean- except for perhaps an almost imperceptible deep red stain on the hems. His hood was pushed back a bit further then the previous times I had seen him, and I could see more of his face. I noticed what looked like a new wrinkle on his forehead, and his eyes seemed, if possible, more deep and full of knowledge. And he was watching me as closely as I was watching him. Once I had finished my inspection I looked into his eyes, and found him staring expectantly back. He was satisfied that I was done, and he spoke again.

“I hope my skeletal friends did not cause you too much trouble.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” I replied smoothly.

“But ah- it seems that one got you,” he said, and I felt my breath catch up in my chest as he walked closer again, and reached out a black gloved hand towards my face. I watched, perfectly still and breathless, as he wiped a gloved finger against my cheek, holding eye contact all the while, the tension almost blaring. He pulled his hand away slowly and held it up, showing the red stain now upon his finger.

I broke eye contact and lifted an astonished hand to my face, and pulled it away to reveal a smear of blood. I had not even known I had been injured.
“Don’t worry- I do not think it will scar,” he said, his voice slightly bemused.

I started to deny that I was worried about such a trivial matter, but he continued speaking before I could.

“So I take it that you received my parcel, and followed the instructions within? You did not tell anyone of your orders to meet with me, to come to Fort Farragut?” His tone was businesslike, and I was a bit flustered by the abrupt change.

“Yes, yes of course! No one knows I am here.”

“Good…” He was silent then, his eyes distant, as though his thoughts were far off- but after a moment he swept out an arm and motioned towards a table. “You must be weary- would you like to take a seat?” And before waiting for a response he strode over to the table, and I followed obligingly. I sat down in one of the sturdy wooden chairs, and he stood at the head of the table, eyeing the various bottles of wine.

“Would you care for a glass of wine? I find myself suddenly parched,” he said, his voice almost ironic, as though he was in on some secret joke that I could not understand.

“That would be lovely,” I replied politely, and watched as he poured us each a goblet of Tamika’s best. He handed me my glass and then lifted his own, sitting back in his chair heavily. He raised his goblet up in a silent toast, and I followed suite, before taking a deep drink of the fine wine. He did the same, and I watched as he swirled the liquid around in his mouth, savoring every flavor, before swallowing- but as he drank again, and spent several moments swallowing, I wondered if maybe he was just reluctant to speak.

After another moment of silence, Lucien heaved a deep sigh, and he started to speak.

“As I’m sure you know, the Dark Brotherhood is a most ancient organization. We have survived for millennia- and sometimes, to ensure that survival, drastic measures are required.”

“Of course,” I said slowly, wondering where this was going.

“We will do whatever necessary to ensure the sanctity of our Sanctuaries, for is that not what their very name implies? They must be unspoiled, untainted with the poison of betrayal- and so when a situation with such treachery occurs, we often respond without mercy.”

I thought of my conversation with Teinaava, just a few nights ago, about the whispers of a traitor in the guild- the talk of a betrayal within the Brotherhood, someone who was murdering their own family members, breaking the Tenets. It seemed that those whispers had been true… and as I looked into Lucien’s eyes, I felt my blood run cold. His next words were causing him distress- and I had a feeling if they were doing so to Lucien, they would most certainly to me as well. He seemed suddenly restless, and stood from his chair, pacing around the table. And then he began.

“I tell you this because there is now a situation of such disloyalty and betrayal within the Brotherhood, and it needs to be dealt with. Now…a Purification is one of the most extreme measures we are forced to carry out- indeed, it has only been carried out twice- before now, that is.”

“A… Purification?” I echoed his words vaguely. This couldn’t be what it sounded like…

“Yes, a Purification. A very drastic measure, but what some feel-” I could not help but notice the contempt in his voice as he said this. “- a necessary one. You know that the Five Tenets are the laws that guide and protect us; but, sometimes, even they must be broken to protect the purity of our beliefs.” I raised my gaze to his own, looking with horror into his deep, intelligent brown eyes. I knew he could see my fear, but he closed all emotion out of his eyes and became hollow as continued on heedlessly.

“With a Purification, we cleanse the Dark Brotherhood of mistrust and treachery, through the only way we know how- to cause death. Except that now it is within ourselves that this death must take place. Those who are slain are offered to Sithis as a symbol of fealty. And, hopefully, we kill the traitor in the process. Until the Purification is complete, no given Sanctuary will ever be considered secure.”

There was a dull thudding in my ears- I could not feel above the disbelief and horror that struck me. I was being asked to kill all of those within the Cheydinhal Sanctuary- I was being asked, no, ordered to slay those who I had grown to know and love as my family. My only family.

Vicenete’s words of warning were echoing in the back of my mind- the sense of dread that had descended upon me had finally been lifted, only to be replaced by a feeling of horror and pain.

I was only faintly aware that Lucien had risen from his chair and was walking behind me, but my eyes did not follow him- instead they were far away, as I tried to completely grasp what was being said. I couldn’t even comprehend the thought of killing them… Telaendril, Ocheeva, Vicente, Gogron, Teinaava! They were my family, they were my friends… they were of the few people in the world who are like me…

I was startled when I felt hot breath against the back of my neck, and an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. Lucien stood directly behind me, and I could feel the warmth of his body on mine. He leaned over my shoulder and placed a few items in my arms. I knew that if I had not heard the news I just had, I would have been experiencing a very different feeling at that moment.

“These will aid you in your coming task- an always lethally poison apple, and a scroll of deep and dark magic,” he said softly, his breath raising the hair on the back of my neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

But he drew back, and I shook my head slightly, trying to clear it. I looked at the apple and the scroll, and did not recognize the markings upon it.
“What is this scroll for?” I asked.

“You of course recall Rufio, the feeble old man I sent you to kill when we first met? He was weak in life, but his spirit is quite angry in death. The scroll will allow you to call upon Rufio's angry ghost for assistance. He will appear, unleash his anger upon your foes, and then disperse.”

I winced as Lucien referred to my family as my ‘foes’. This wasn’t right, it had to be a dream- I could not do this, I just couldn’t! I was silent for a moment, trying to think of a respectful way to decline- but I suddenly just burst out, my voice cracking with emotion.

“No! I cannot kill them, they are my family!”

He looked into my eyes intently, his gaze powerful and unwavering.

“You will come to find, my dear Adrienne, that those you love can always be replaced, no matter how deep you believe your devotion to be. The only constant, the only one who your complete loyalty should lie with, is to the Night Mother and Sithis themselves. For you will never feel whole in life without what they give you- the gift of murder.”

As I looked into Lucien’s eyes, I could see the conviction within them, I could feel the passion and fervor with which he believed his words. His devotion to the Night Mother and Sithis was complete and whole- he would do anything for them. Also within his eyes I saw something else- a sense of understanding that was full of pity, as though he knew what trials I would have to suffer through before my beliefs were as strong as his. But these experiences were necessary, his eyes said.

“Now go!” Lucien exclaimed suddenly, and I looked up wildly into his face. “The Cheydinhal Sanctuary must be Purified! Everyone based out of that location must die if this treachery is to be undone!” He had pulled my chair out from behind me, and was holding my elbow firmly, lifting me into a standing position. He led me to a rope ladder in the corner of the room that I had not noticed before, and gestured upwards. I started to climb mechanically, not even thinking of where I was going. Just before I lifted the trapdoor to climb out of the Speaker’s lair, he spoke again.

“Good luck... my Silencer.”

I turned back, confused- my rank was Executioner, not Silencer- in fact, I had never even heard of the rank Silencer- but he was gone, and I saw only a black void below me.

* * *

The sun was setting and the air was thick with the essence of night as I stumbled about the forest- I was disorientated, an almost drunken feeling of incomprehension. Everything I had come to believe, to honor, I had been told to fracture today. I had been ordered to break The Five Tenets, the only laws that had guided my life this past year. I had been ordered to eliminate the people who were my comrades, my friends, and my family. Ordered by the man who I thought would above all else try to protect his Sanctuary, and it’s members- instead he was asking me to kill them.

As I found a cluster of rocks on the side of a hill, I came to a stop and dropped to my knees, holding my hands out before me, palms up to the darkening sky. My first thought had been complete and total rejection of the very notion- I would not, and could not, kill them.

But if I did not kill them, it seemed very clear to me that I would no longer have a place in the Brotherhood- in fact, I would probably be killed along with them. That wouldn’t solve anything… maybe I could save them, alert them of the danger, and let them escape to safety! But I thought of Lucien’s words, so long ago; “The Brotherhood knows a great many things…”. They had known, without seeing, that Rufio was dead. They would know when the Cheydinhal Sanctuary members were dead, and they would know if I lied about it. I also did not wish to lie to the Brotherhood- or to Lucien.

I thought again of simply not killing them, not alerting them, not doing anything at all; of just leaving the Sanctuary and the Brotherhood altogether- but the very notion was almost inconceivable. What would I do, if not murder? I could kill outside of the Sanctuary, but without the support of the Brotherhood I knew it would be a quick run before I was caught and captured. What other skills did I have, if not in deathcraft? I was fair at alchemy, I supposed- maybe I could open an alchemist shop? I started to brighten up at the fact slightly, thinking of the poisons I could study and brew, and sell to those who would need them… before I fully thought out how incredibly dull that would be. I could never live like that, I realized. I could never live without the thrill of a kill- for it was like a drug, once introduced, you could never be without it again. And plus, leaving would not even save my family’s lives, for they would just be murdered by someone else, some other recruit within the Brotherhood- or maybe even Lucien himself.

I needed the Brotherhood- just as I was a part of it, it was a part of me. My family members would be dying with what they believed in as well, and would join Sithis and the Night Mother in their void. They would have it easy, I thought bitterly. I would be the one left alone, having murdered everyone dear to me. But I would not be alone, I thought suddenly. Lucien Lachance is still here, and would remain so...

I thought of his words, spoken just under an hour ago; “…those you love can always be replaced, no matter how deep you believe your devotion to be…”. And for some reason, I wondered if that statement had applied to me…

But this thought was quickly extinguished by thoughts of the Purification. Over time, I supposed, more members would join the Sanctuary. They would have to be similar to myself, for all within the Brotherhood share the deep association of murder. But would they be the same as my family now? Of course not, I thought at first… but maybe… maybe they could become equal, they could be just as exciting, for one could assume that all assassins had at least an interesting personality to offer.

Time would pass, and with it would go my pain from their deaths. You can always move on, you can always find someone to replace the opening left by the absence of another. If I could just hold on long enough, their deaths would be just mere memories in my past, a flicker in the shadows of my life. I just had to detach myself until this time would come.

And when I stood again, my heart was no longer pounding in my chest, my breath was even and smooth- my hands were no longer shaking and I could walk steadily. I was resigned to the fate that was awaiting me; I had made my choice. I was going to perform the Purification.

* * *

A day and a half later I was crouching behind a row of piled stones that had probably once served as a wall, the night air thick with the approach of rain. A dirt road ran by in front of me, winding its way through the forest and up into Cheydinhal. A bow sat beside me, leaning against the wall, ready to be used at a second’s notice. My quiver held my most expensive and most deadly arrows, waiting to strike the flesh of an unsuspecting victim.

And my victim today would be Telaendril, for I had sat at this very spot for over a day now, awaiting her return from the Imperial City. I had chosen this spot because it lay deep within the wood, where I knew of none who would be daring enough to venture off the road, and because of it’s reputation for banditry- this provided a feasible cover to the law.

I had kept my mind surprisingly clear during the wait- in an almost suspended existence I sat there, anticipating the moment when the Bosmer would walk around the bend. And yet when I saw her slender form appear, I was still unprepared for the reality of what I was about to do.

I grasped my bow unnaturally tight, my fingers shaking only slightly as I reached over my back for an arrow. As I notched it, I tried to contain my composure, for I felt as though my throat was backed up and my head was ringing incessantly.

She was closer now, and as I started to arm the arrow, I felt not the customary thrill of elation- rather, I felt a sense of dread descend about me, and my hands felt heavy and slippery. I was surprised to find that my face was drenched in sweat, and my hands were as well- for I never had perspired during a murder before.

I could not keep my bow steady, no matter how hard I tried- her face kept shaking in and out of my view. I closed my moist eyes in frustration, grimacing for a moment. I tried to clear my mind, I tried to think of other things, of other murders- and when I finally opened them again, they were free of tears; and they were free of emotion. My eyes were hollow, for I felt nothing- I couldn’t feel anything, or this would be impossible.

With one last careful adjustment to my aim, I let the arrow fly. And as it always had, it stuck true.

Her body to fell to the ground, an arrow through her skull, and almost simultaneously the long awaited rain started to pour down. And as I squinted my eyes upwards into the downpour, I knew that sweat and raindrops were not the only liquid streaming down my face.

* * *

Lucien Lachance sighed heavily as he watched a frothy foam appear in the bubbling mortar- he had stirred too many times again. He had watched a similar scene four times now, and found his patience was wearing thin with himself. He was trying to extract a rare ingredient from fire salts, but his concentration was not intense enough for this to be done, and he had now nearly wasted his limited supply.

His pushed his chair back in anger and stood fiercely, striding over to a small table and pouring himself a glass of his finest wine. He swirled it about in his mouth before swallowing, relishing in it’s delicacy- much as he was swirling his thoughts about within his mind.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not push the thought of Adrienne and her task from his mind. He thought of the image of her face as he told her of her orders to murder the Sanctuary, and he felt a chill run down his spine. The look was one of such disbelief, such anguish… he could feel the pain coming from her very soul. He had a certain understanding of this pain, for he had had to do things to reach his position in the Brotherhood as well, things he pushed deep into the shadowy recesses of his mind, for the very mention of them was almost unbearable.

Lucien was also worrying about the decision she would make, for he was truly unsure about her motives when leaving his Fort. She had seemed so confused, so lost- but he knew that he could not aid her, for this was something she had to face alone. This is why he had ushered her from his own private Sanctuary in such an abrupt manner- if she had sat there for one moment longer he would not have been able to resist the urge to direct her, to reassure her. This was not a feeling that Lucien was accustomed to experiencing, and he found that he was not overly fond of such an uncontrollable urge.

And even if she had chosen to perform the Purification, it was the most difficult thing she would ever have to face physically, not even thinking of the mentality of the deed; for they were eight, highly skilled members of the Dark Brotherhood, hand picked by Lucien himself- and only one of her. She would be very, very lucky to complete the mission unscathed. What if she had failed, and was killed? It had been over a day… he thought, clenching his fist in worry.

But then he chastised himself- he was being ridiculous. There was still plenty of time before he should actually start to become concerned. He was becoming soft in his older age, he decided brusquely.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a sound coming from right above him. He leapt backwards, dropping his goblet of wine with splash and drawing his dagger in one smooth motion. He slipped the weapon back into its sheath, however, when he identified his visitor.

“I have an urgent message!” an official Dark Brotherhood courier exclaimed, leaping off from the rope ladder and landing in front of Lucien with a thump. He was shakily unraveling the ties holing his messenger bag closed, but his eyes were upon Lucien.

“Ocheeva sends word- Telaendril has been murdered! Her body was found on the road to Cheydinhal,” he said, finally opening the bag and passing over a hastily sealed letter to Lucien.

He took the parcel calmly, yet his mind was racing- the courier stood expectantly, shifting from foot to foot with impatience- and Lucien enjoyed waiting for a near moment before dismissing him, smiling at the courier’s awkwardness, for the man had several others to deliver the news to, and not much time.

Lucien opened the letter and skimmed it, finding a detailed analysis of Ocheeva’s suspicions about the murder of Telaendril, and what to do about the possibility of a traitor; which was all-irrelevant to him. He crumbled it up calmly and tossed it in the fire, watching it light into a orange dance of flame and disintegrate into ash. His face was illuminated orange from the glow of the flames, an almost resigned, faint smile upon his lips.

The Purification had begun.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Eighteen: The Purification

I stood quite still, not a muscle moving; the only sound was that of the crickets serenading the expansive dark skies surrounding me. Yet for all the motionlessness of my body, my mind was moving in speeds and ranges I could not have imagined before this time. Two days had passed since the death of Telaendril, but I was still not ready to face what awaited me inside the Sanctuary’s walls. Before me sat the well, its cover shifted aside. Through the crack this created, a soft shimmer of light escaped from the depths within.

And I stared at that gap, fighting some invisible force that seemed to be preventing me from entering. Below that well cover laid the Sanctuary, where I knew that its members would be mourning the loss of one of their own. Our! One of ‘our’ own! I thought savagely, trying to correct myself. I was already starting to separate myself from them, to refer to myself as different, an outsider of the family. I felt such a strong sensation of self disgust and revulsion that it was nearly unbearable, for I knew that I couldn’t be one of the family anymore; having to kill all of them made things a bit complicated.

An infinity seemed to pass, but I finally found the power within myself to shift my still muscles, knowing that the patrols of Cheydinhal guard would soon start their evening rounds. I had to go down there, and I had waited long enough…

After killing Telaendril, I had worked quickly, methodically- I'd been trying to keep my mind off the reality of my actions. The rain was strong and persistent, so I had rapidly gone through her possessions, taking whatever I felt a bandit would have, and dragged her body to the side of the road. I then went back to my hiding place and awaited the arrival of a guard. Several hours later a patroller on horseback went by, and he discovered the body and returned her to Cheydinhal, believing the death to be the work of bandits.

I probably should have returned to the Sanctuary right then, but instead I had waited until the officer was out of sight and turned the opposite way, heading west. I was restless, I could not keep still- for being still meant that I would think. And I could not think of what I had just done; not yet. And so I traveled, like my days before the Brotherhood, with no supplies except my bow and arrow, dagger, and clothes on my back. I did not sleep except when it was absolutely necessary, and even then it was a light doze, filled with fretful tossing and turning- and dark dreams.

But eventually I found myself near Cheydinhal again, and I knew that it was time I returned to the Sanctuary- which brought me to where I stood now, staring at the well, preparing to climb down and return to those who I had once called family without trepidation

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and murmured a short prayer to the Night Mother before suddenly stepping forward and fully pushing the grate off to the side. I made my way down the ladder quickly, with ferocity- for I knew that as soon as I stopped to think I would find some excuse to remain outside, to turn back.

I dropped down into the Entry Hall to find it almost chillingly empty, the intense silence eerie and unnatural. There was most definitely something wrong, and had I not been the cause of it I would have been most alarmed at this moment; but I was the cause, and felt only apprehensive.

Ocheeva’s doors were closed and I heard no noise coming from within, so I continued onward to the Living Quarters. My heart was hammering within my chest, a dull throbbing echoing throughout my skull. There was a still sort of silence in the air, and I felt my breath constricted as I turned the final corner of the hall.

The scene within the room was one of dim lights and tense silence. Dozens of candles were scattered about the room, casting a myriad of unidentifiable shadows on the stoned walls. I turned about in confusion, my expression inquisitive. Before me I found the members of the Sanctuary- all except Antoinetta, it seemed.

Ocheeva was standing in the front, donning a robe of the darkest black, her face equally dark; her expression was somber, but her eyes were hard. Teinaava was at her left, also wearing all black- but not his customary leather armor. Instead, it seemed as I looked about the room, that everyone was in their finest attire- and all black.

I searched past Teinaava’s pitying look and found Vicente Valtieri, his eyes a deep red and face expressionless - not even the tips of his fangs slipped from his lips. He was watching me intently, and I averted my gaze from him quickly, with a distinct sense of unease. M’raaj Dar stood off to the side near the table, his normally blue robes switched for black. I noted that, for once, the Khajiit did not scowl at the sight of me.

Behind the round table in the back of the room (which was laden with a rather irregular mass of food) was Gogron, slumped pathetically over in a chair. His normally large frame seemed almost chillingly frail and feeble. He was quite still, and did not acknowledge that I had walked into the room at all. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on what lay before him; I followed his gaze.

The long table normally reserved for dining and drinks had been dragged into the middle of the room, and upon first inspection I thought it lay bare- but as I looked closer, I realized that its chestnut wood was stained a dark red in the center, and the stone floor below revealed a puddle of the same substance. I watched, my expression aghast, as a drop of the red liquid slipped between a crack in the wood and splashed softly into the puddle below.

I looked up into the eyes of the family, my expression bewildered and alarmed.

“What’s going on here?” I asked urgently. My view darted to each of their eyes in turn, yet they all seemed to shy away, unable to keep my gaze. Ocheeva was the one to finally hold eye contact.

“Adrienne… you have missed much in your absence,” she said, her tone almost overly official.

“What do you mean? What’s happened?” I asked, trying to fill my voice with as much fear as possible. Instead it came out sounding a bit pained.

“Telaendril…she… she is dead, Adrienne,” Teinaava spoke for her, his voice gentle.

“What?” I replied quickly, sharply. He winced slightly.

“Her body was found on the road leading to Cheydinhal- the Guard brought her back to the city, and we, of course, retrieved her corpse,” he said.

I could tell he was speaking cautiously, extremely wary of my reaction- but I was not focused on him. Instead, my line of sight went past him, to the figure standing in the shadows behind the Argonian. The figure with deep red eyes and gleaming white fangs.

Vicente Valtieri was still watching me intently, his gaze sharp and penetrating. I felt myself beginning to waver under his intense scrutiny- it may have simply been my mind playing tricks on me, but I could not help but get the very distinct feeling that his gaze was one of deep understanding- and of acute disappointment. Almost like he knew...

I breathed in sharply and turned away from him, swallowing deeply before speaking.

“Do we know who… who is responsible?”

I watched carefully for all of their reactions, and saw nothing that could indicate suspicion towards myself from anyone… except Vicente. I could swear that as I spoke, his lips turned up in the corners slightly in an almost sardonic smile. Unconsciously I found my hand going to the dagger at my waist, fingering it anxiously. He smiled widened almost imperceptibly, but I turned away from him and looked back to Ocheeva and Teinaava.

“We do have our theories, but are currently unaware as to the identity of those who have committed this atrocity against us. But I assure you, when we do discover them, they shall pay most dearly for their deeds,” said Teinaava, eying the hand upon my dagger with a slight smile and a knowing look also upon his face; but I doubted it was in the same vein as that of Vicente.

“I know that whoever is responsible for her death will suffer,” I said slowly; but the certainty in my tone was quite evident. For I knew it was true.

The other’s all nodded their heads in agreement- all except Gogron, whose eyes were still fixed upon the bloody table. I looked around the room, and could clearly see that Telaendril’s body was not present. I looked at the blood again.

“But what is going on here?” I asked, gesturing my chin in the direction of the table.

“Ah…” Ocheeva cleared her throat formally before continuing. “We have just performed the ancient Ritual of Descent, which aids our fallen Brothers and Sisters in their journey to the side of Sithis, in the Void.”

“Ritual of Descent?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed. I had never heard of such a thing.

“Yes- we purify the body, cleansing the flesh and blood through sacred procedures of removal. It is a lengthy process, and one that requires intense concentration and devotion. But of course, everyone here was ready and willing to honor our beloved Telaendril.”

“Except, it seems, myself,” I replied, my tone slightly bitter.

“We could not have known when you were returning dear sister- and the ritual must be performed within a certain time frame after the death. If we had been aware that you'd be back today, we would have waited, I assure you,” Teinaava said quickly.

I nodded my head curtly and looked around once again, averting my eyes from him uncomfortably.

“So… now what?” I finally asked, my voice cracking.

“Now we feast, and honor our fallen Sister,” Ocheeva answered, gesturing towards the round table in the back of the room, where Gogron still sat. His position had not changed in the least, and his expression seemed fixed as well. He looked up vaguely when we all turned toward him.

“Hmm?” he said, absentmindedly.

“It’s time to eat,” said Ocheeva kindly, turning and walking toward him.

He nodded dimly, as through in a trance. I dropped my travel pack by the doorway and we all followed and moved to sit down around the table. We were one chair short, so I moved to slide a seat over from the spares sitting in the corner- when suddenly M’raaj Dar cut in front of me and grabbed it first, sliding it over and gesturing for me to sit. I eyed him warily, but he returned it with an unmistakably pleasant look. I sat down slowly and he pushed the chair in for me, before turning to sit himself. I continued to watch him, with unmistakable incredulity upon my face. Why was he being so kind to me?

Once we were all seated and comfortable around the table, Ocheeva at its head, we fell into a tense silence. I looked at the food before us on the table, watching the steam rise from it in a swirling mass. There was a dark red meat piled haphazardly on a platter in the center, with radishes, potatoes and carrots surrounding it on an assortment of plates. I wondered vaguely why there was only one variation of meat, as opposed to the usual several, but the thought was pushed from my mind when Ocheeva rose from her chair.

She began then to speak of Telaendril, of her talent and skill as an assassin, along with her amiability and good humor with all those around her. I pushed my mind to other places, finding it too painful to listen. I looked over at M’raaj Dar once again, watching him as he looked up at Ocheeva. There was something different about him- there was no doubt about that… something very, very different. His very demeanor was unnatural, his stature relaxed and expression pleasant. I was wondering what could have brought about such a drastic change, when suddenly I felt my hands being gripped by Teinaava at my left and Vicente at my right.

I shook my head slightly and looked about in alarm- but I saw that the entire table had linked hands, holding them up as though in a prayer. I turned my attention back to Ocheeva, who was chanting in some form of Tamriellic that I could not understand, her eyes closed in concentration and her voice deep with intensity. The others were completely entranced by her prayer, and only I was not watching Ocheeva with glowing eyes.

When she had completed her ritual we all lowered our hands slowly, a deafening silence descending. We were quite still, but after a moment we all reached forward in unison and began to eat, stabbing the meat and vegetables onto our plates with personal knives. I started to chew on the steaming red meat, its warm juices filling my mouth with delectable tastes. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep with satisfaction, swallowing the chunk of meat with an audible gulp. Similar sighs of contentment came from those around the table as we enjoyed the feast; yet I looked up and saw that there was one who still seemed to be restless.

Gogron was still sitting slouched over in his chair, and I was shocked to see that he was barely eating a thing. I watched as he raised a piece of meat skewered by his knife to his lips, but made a face of revulsion and set it down again, proceeding to poke at the vegetables. I noticed for the first time that his eyes were bloodshot.

I felt someone’s gaze upon me, and turned to find Teinaava trying to catch my eye. He gave a meaningful look toward the sulking Gogron, his eyes telling me that he noticed as well, and that we would speak of it later.

The dinner passed by in an almost complete silence, the only sound that of clinking knives and plates, or the deep swallowing of food and drink. Once the platter of meat had been finished and the plates were cleared and leftovers stored, Teinaava once again caught my eye.

“I’m going out for some fresh air,” he said, and the others nodded in compliance. As he started to make his way from the room he sent me another, more urgent look. I clenched my jaw.

“I think I’ll join you,” I found myself saying, and he smiled slightly as I followed him up the hallway. We walked in silence, our steps echoing throughout the hushed corridor. When we came up into the Entry Hall he gestured toward the ladder leading out of the well, an eyebrow raised in question. I responded by walking in front of him and climbing up and out, offering him a hand as he followed.

Night had fallen, and the city was dark and the sky cloudless as we stood beneath it, encompassed by its vastness. We listened together to the sounds of the twilight- the crickets singing their songs, the gentle breeze, but most of all- the quiet. After a moment, Teinaava broke the silence.

“This is a difficult time for all of us…” he said slowly.

“It is,” I said, trying to keep the tone of bitter irony from my voice.

“Yes… but I think that Gogron has been taking it the hardest.”

I nodded slowly in agreement, and thought of a time that seems long ago now, when we had celebrated my contract at Summitmist Manor by all getting uproariously drunk… and the admission that Telaendril had made that night- the confession of her feelings for Gogron. I wondered if she had ever admitted her feelings to him, for it was quite apparent now that he shared those affections.

“So how are you handling this?”

I jerked my head in his direction, drawn out of my reverie by his question. He was watching me closely, and I closed and opened my eyes again before replying, my voice soft.

““I will be fine…” He raised an eyebrow. “It was just a surprise… you don’t expect to ever lose anyone here.” I continued. His expression softened, and he gave a slight nod, seemingly satisfied with the truth in my response.

“I know what you mean…the first time someone from your family dies, it is always difficult.” As he continued on his voice became hollow, as though he was speaking only to himself. “Sometimes the most difficult, for it always feels so unexpected... You remember your young adult years, where you believed yourself to be invincible? It is the same concept, only applied instead to those around you.”

“Yes…”

We sat in silence, leaning against the well and lifting our chins to stare up into the night sky. I could sense his thoughts were far away; and as I turned to look at Teinaava out of the corner of my eye, I felt my heart race suddenly. I could kill him… right now… no one’s out here, no one would know… I subconsciously felt my hand slipping to the dagger at my waist, but suddenly I stopped at my thigh.

No! Not yet… not yet. I felt my throat clench up, and swallowed deeply. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready… but would I ever be ready? I asked myself. Of course… of course I would…I had to be ready… but not now. Besides, everyone knew we had gone out here together… if I went back alone there would be awkward questions, something I certainly didn’t want. It didn’t make sense to kill him right now. It didn’t sense, I convinced myself. It didn’t.

“The patrols are starting out- we should probably head back in,” Teinaava said a few moments later, suddenly turning his head towards me again. I let out a great breath of air and nodded, letting my hand fall from its resting place near the dagger on my leg. Not now, I repeated to myself.

Not yet.

We returned to find that the Living Quarters had been returned to its normal condition- the table and chairs brought back to their customary places, and it seemed that even the red puddle had been mopped up. Gogron was lying in his bed, completely stationary, staring straight up into the ceiling. Ocheeva and Vicente were no where to be seen, so we surmised that they had returned to their rooms. M'raaj Dar was already in his bed, and I thought I could hear a faint snoring emitting from underneath his blanket.

Teinaava and I went over to the furthest corner, where we had claimed our beds. Gogron had shifted over to his side, and was staring at Telaendril's empty bed, his gaze vacant. I turned away, averting my eyes from the pitiable scene. Slipping off my traveling boots for the first time in days, I winced as I stretched the aching muscles in my feet. I looked back to where I had dropped my travel pack, but saw it was no longer there. I guessed that someone had moved it while they cleaned up the chambers, and I did not think of it further.

Teinaava had already climbed into his bed, pulling the blanket fully over his body. He turned towards me, raising an eyebrow as I stayed seated motionless on the mattress. I gave a short sigh, and started to slide the blankets out and slip beneath them.

“Tomorrow I have some business to deal with, but I should be back around evening. What are your plans for the day?” asked Teinaava wearily as he blew out the candle next to his bed. I felt my throat constrict at the thought of the future held in store for me, and for him, before I swallowed deeply and spoke.

“Nothing interesting, probably just staying in the Sanctuary, catching up on sleep,” I said, keeping my voice nonchalant.

He nodded and then rolled over the other way, settling down for sleep. I too blew out my candle, and the room was cast into black, with only the indistinct blurs of resting forms throughout the room keeping the view incompatible that of my dark mind. A few moments passed, and I could hear Teinaava's breathing reach the slow and steady rasp of slumber.

But sleep seemed far off for myself. I couldn't stop the itching feeling within me, reminding me that I could kill them now... that I should kill them all now... Now, while they all slept, would be the time to strike. It would be over quickly, for I had just to slit their throats silently...

No... what if someone where to wake? I couldn't be sure of where Vicente or Ocheeva really were- they could still be awake in their rooms, and then I'd be in a mess. And I was tired... so tired...

And the days I had gone without rest suddenly caught up with me, and before I could convince myself of any action I descended into a deep, dreamless slumber.

7777777777777777777777777777777777777777777

I awoke the next morning to silence- I was surprised, for the room was normally filled with the sounds of everyone going about their daily routines in the mornings. But as I slid out of my bed and into a pair of clogs, rubbing my eyes and stretching, I sensed the distinct impression that one gets when it is not morning; that I had overslept. I was starting to rise from my bed when suddenly I became aware that someone else was in the room.

M'raaj Dar sat at the long table, and I saw a plate of fruits before him. He seemed to have just noticed me as well. I was confused for a moment when he smiled brightly at me, but then I recalled his actions towards me from the day before.

“Good morning!” he said cheerfully. I stood up from my bed and eyed him suspiciously.

“And to you...” I replied cautiously. Not in the mood to deal with him, I started to make my way out of the room- but as I crossed the threshold of the doorway he called out to me.

“Wait!” I stopped in my tracks, grating my teeth. I turned back and saw that he had risen, and was watching me with anxious eyes. I could tell that he had something on his mind.

“Yes?” I prompted, as he shifted uncomfortably, shuffling his feet.

“Look... I've been thinking, and...” I looked at him expectantly, raising my eyebrows in impatience. I was getting annoyed. “Well... I guess I just want to say I'm sorry for the way I've treated you in the past.”

This time when my eyebrows rose, it was in shock and disbelief. Was this some sort of trick? Why would he do this? What could possibly have happened to change his intense hatred of me? And now, of all times? Why now?

His eyes turned a bit frantic at my reaction, fearful. He continued on hastily, gesturing with his hands emphatically.

“I mean, look at you! The things you've accomplished! You've obviously proven yourself a valuable member of this Sanctuary.” As I looked into his eyes, I was astonished to see the likes of sincerity that few had ever witnessed. He was genuinely concerned about my reaction- he truly cared.

“So let's start over, shall we? I know from now on, you and I are going to be great friends!” he finished, happy to see that my expression had now turned thoughtful instead of disbelieving. He looked at me, his face wary but hopeful, awaiting my response.

And as I stared back at him, I felt my blood begin to boil. What did he think he was doing? Apologizing, now? Why now, of all times... not now! He was going to be my easy kill, one who I would care little to murder- maybe even enjoy! My easy break... but no, now he decides to apologize for his ill treatment of me? Now he wants to be friends?

Why, why are you doing this now?! The question echoed throughout my soul. It was not fair... I glared at the cat, my eyes hard and narrowed. He had ruined the one thing that would make this whole ordeal easier. He did not deserve my forgiveness. It wasn't fair.

And all I had been feeling, the guilt over Telaendril's death, the dread of the Purification, the confusion, the pain, the sorrow... and the anger... The anger suddenly took form, an explosion of emotion combined as one, simple instinct: kill. The immense power of it all nearly physically staggered me, my head becoming filled with the simple drive. And all that anger was channeled toward the figure before me, awaiting my answer.

Suddenly, as though acting without control, I felt myself smiling sweetly and speaking.

“Of course I forgive you, my dear brother.”

My voice seemed hollow to me, lifeless- but M'raaj Dar only let out an audible sigh of relief and smiled warmly. And then I felt myself spreading out my arms and leaning forward, an invitation for embrace. M'raaj's smile deepened, and I felt another wave of anger flow throughout me. He leaned forward as well, wrapping his arms around my waist loosely. I patted him on the back, my hand stiff and my eyes hard. After a moment I felt him start to draw back, as was customary- but my heart was racing, the adrenaline rushing through my veins, the anger consuming my soul.

In one smooth motion I slid my hands up his back and gripped his fur-covered throat and chin. I saw his expression change from one of joy to that of fear and confusion. My eyes were reflected in his, and I could see in the reflection that mine were livid and full of hate, yet fiery with the lust of a kill.

I smiled a wicked, maniacal grin, and twisted M'raaj Dar roughly around, pressing his back against my body. He let out a hiss of surprise, and started to push away in bewilderment.I leaned my head forward, pulling him back towards me. I put my lips next to his ear, and whispered one word.

“Goodbye.”

And I ripped him back to me, gripping his fur savagely- and I wound his head to the left before violently yanking to the right, twisting downwards with an resounding “crack”. Every emotion I posessed poured into the action, and the ferocity was enough to cause the body to flip over and slam to the floor, his head lolling about unnaturally.

He landed on his back, his arms stretched out wildly and his eyes still open wide in shock. I was panting hard, my breath coming in gasps, chest heaving. Everything around me seemed clear and detailed, down to a drip of wax falling from a candle on the table. My sense were heightened, just as they always were during a kill.

A kill... I felt my smile deepen. I had killed M'raaj Dar, the Khajiit who had always made my life miserable whenever we had encountered each other. He was dead... and I had killed him.

But I could not dwell long in my elation, for after a moment I heard something in the recesses of my mind that made my breath catch up in my chest. Faintly I could make out an echoing clatter, the sound of footsteps on hard stone. And they were approaching rapidly, drawing closer by the second. The footfalls were heavy and dragging, yet the stride was still long and moving quickly.

I was quite still for a split second, planning faster then I had ever had before in my life. And then suddenly I leapt into action; in a flash I had leaned down and slipped my hands under M'raaj Dar's arms, dragging his heavy form frantically towards the beds. I could hear that the approaching figure had rounded the first corner of the hallway- I didn't have much time now.

Somehow, maybe the rush of adrenaline, I found the strength to lift M'raaj Dar's body up onto the bed nearest the table. I ripped aside the covers and angled the Khajiit under them awkwardly, adjusting his lolling head. The steps were just outside the threshold of the entryway- with a thrill of panic, I clambered over the bed that M'raaj Dar lay in and hopped from one bed to the next, landing three away from him. Just as I dropped down to sit, messing up the covers as I did so, the huge figure appeared in the doorway.

Had my senses not been enhanced by the elation of a kill, I surely would not have even heard the footsteps in time; and even now I had cut it close. I was panting, but was trying to control my breathing and force it into even, steady gasps. However, as I continued to watch Gogron shuffle into the room, I realized I probably could not have bothered with this entire cover-up.

He had not even seemed to noticed my presence yet; his steps were unbalanced and wobbly, and his eyes were bloodshot and watery. He was, without a doubt, extremely drunk. As I watched, he came to an unsteady halt, swaying on his feet. He threw his gaze around the room vaguely, blinking hard as he tried to process his surroundings. After a moment he finally locked on to me.

“ 'lo there, Adrienne,” he slurred out.

Before I could reply, he suddenly swiveled his head other way and spotted the table, laden with fruits and breakfast foods. His attention was immediately diverted, and he promptly started to lumber over towards the food with a primal moan of longing. After a tense moment where he seemed about to totter completely over, he navigated himself into a seat on the bench. But just as he was lifting his hands to reach for a plate, he seemed to lose spirit and his fist fell heavily back down onto the table. His eyes were far away, and became even wetter then before- and somehow I knew it wasn't only the drink that was causing this.

I found myself moving towards the table, and angling onto the bench to sit next to Gogron. He barely acknowledged my presence, only inclining his head slightly. As I sat next to him, he shifted slightly, hiding his eyes from me with a fist- but I saw a little clear drop fall from his moist hand. I felt as though something had hit me hard in the stomach, my heart aching for the Orc. I leaned over and wrapped an arm around his thick back, barely reaching the other side. And as though the comfort was too much for him, he collapsed onto me, and I had to use all my strength to keep us both from falling from the bench.

He was shaking silently, and I knew this was for Telaendril. I marvelled at him, the Orc who killed little children and masses of people with joy, crying at the loss of one woman. I thought of the time he had sobbed for his rabbit, and I wondered if this was just the drink talking- but I doubted it. We do not know the ones we kill- that is why we are able to complete our contracts, for the most part. But that does not mean that we are incapable of love. For I knew that I loved my family, and I knew that Gogron had loved Telaendril. And I had killed her, just as I would now have to kill him.

My throat had constricted and I felt my breath catch up as emotion and despair nearly overtook me- but as I shifted to find a better grip on Gogron, my leg bumped against something beneath the table. I looked down, and saw that it was my travel bag. For a moment I was confused, but then I remembered how it had disappeared the night before- someone had probably moved it here when the room had been cleaned. I was about to push it from my mind when something stopped me from turning back to him.

For now a strange feeling had descended upon me- I felt as though my head was cloudy, my thoughts not my own; yet at the same time, I knew that though nothing had ever been clearer. I was not controlling myself, I felt as though some invisible force was guiding me along my way, whispering in my ear the next step.

I found myself leaning down, keeping a hand securely holding up Gogron and patting him on the back, whilst the other was searching my travel pack. I stopped when I felt what I had been searching for- a round, smooth surface. With a small smile of triumph upon my face that was not my own, I pulled out a crimson red apple. Its surface glinted maliciously in the candlelight, the faint mark of the Brotherhood barely visible upon it's unblemished skin.

I felt as though I was watching myself from outside my own body, for I knew I was not in control. I held the apple up, regarding it carefully, before leaning over to Gogron.

“Here, why don't you eat something? It will make you feel better...” I said, my voice soft and soothing, but my gaze intent and anxious. He sniffed, rubbing his nose clumsily with a sleeve, and looked at the apple with bleary eyes. After a moment he took it clumsily from my grasp, taking a huge mouthful and chomping with an open mouth. My smile widened, this new part of me celebrating my success, while something else deep inside of me cried out in anguish.

He had taken another bite from the apple, his expression pleased and eyes brighter then before. I continued to watch as he swallowed, wondering how long it would be until the effects took hold. I found myself hoping it wouldn't be much of a wait- I had a lot to do.

And my eyes widened as Gogron suddenly stopped chewing, his expression turning sour. He tried to take a deep breath, but it sounded as though something was caught in his throat. His body shuddered and jerked unexpectedly, and he started to become limp in my arms. He was shaking uncontrollably, trying to breathe- but nothing could get through his air passage. The poisoned apple was doing it's job... he spasmed again, and in that last moment before his head fell to the side, he looked up into my eyes.

They were full of pain, confusion, fear- and betrayal. He was silent, but I could feel them asking me, pleading, “Why?”. And then his body stopped it's convulsing, and the light left his eyes. He fell back, but his eyes remained open, staring straight at me, as though still searching through my dark, dark soul. But I turned away, only a fleeting spark of despair filling my heart before my mind was on other things. I could not think about it, I could not face it.

This was just like any other contract, I had to kill the targets as quickly and efficiently as possible. I already knew that I would not be able to lift Gogron to a bed as I had M'raaj Dar, so his death could not be concealed. I needed to kill the others outside of this room then, if I wanted to surprise them. For I also knew that I could not defeat more then one of the members of the Sanctuary in battle at at time, and that the element of surprise was therefore my best weapon.

I rose from my seat, letting Gogron's head fall to the bench. I began to mentally assess my options- I knew that Teinaava would be out until evening, and a part of me felt a sense of relief to that fact. Ocheeva was most likely in her room working on business, and I was almost certain that Vicente would be in his room sleeping after a night out. I felt no hesitation when I decided that my next target would be Vicente.

I reached down under the table and lifted out my travel pack, slipping my hands in and pulling out the scroll of Rufio, along with the Blade of Woe. I strapped everything into place, and rose up again. Once again I felt that cloudy sensation overtake my mind, and without any comprehensible or logical thought, I found myself leaning forward and reaching for a clove of garlic that laid upon the table. Watching my own hand in amazement, I crushed the garlic against the blade of my dagger, smearing it with vigor.

I was in the hallway now, walking towards Vicente's room. I passed Ocheeva's closed doors and could hear the faint sound of a quill scratching on parchment. Later, I said to myself. Soon. I made my way down the hallway, and soon stood outside Vicente's room, listening intently for any movement from within. There was none.

I opened the heavy doors cautiously, slipping in as soon as it was possible for my body to fit, and closed them silently behind me. Vicenete was laying rigidly on his back upon a stone slab, arms crossed in the fashion that vampires tend to be fond of. His breaths were slow and steady, his chest rising and falling demurely.

I stepped forward slowly, my boots making no sound on the carpeted floor. My heart was pounding in my chest, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I knew that Vicente was powerful, and I knew that I could not defeat him in a physical battle. It was very important that he not wake up... and as I drew closer, I drew my dagger slowly from it's sheath, fingering it's smooth surface almost lovingly.

I was soon next to the bed, my heart racing in anticipation. I slowly lowered the dagger to his throat, eyes wide as it came close to his flesh. I pressed it softly against him, and paused- I did not look into his face, only at the dagger. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to draw it across his neck.

“Wait.”

I let out the breath in a gasp of surprise, my grip on the blade faltering for a split second. I looked down in horror to find that Vicente's eyes blood red eyes were wide open, trained directly upon me. I looked away quickly, for I felt something deep within me stirring.

“I must do this... I have no choice” I replied with a deep swallow, and I readjusted my grip on the Blade of Woe with determination in my eyes. As I did so I could hear him inhaling deeply, painfully. The garlic... but he drew in a raspy, choking breath, and spoke again.

“I know.”

My hand stopped, my entire body motionless.

“Adrienne, look at me- I... know...”

I slowly turned to look at his face, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

“How...how could...” my voice was soft, quivering. I felt the barrier I had been constructing starting to crumble.

“I have lived a...long time... and I know the inner workings of the... Black Hand... better than most... I have... expected this...”

Expected this? I thought fervently. Expected this? Then why did he do nothing to stop it? Could he be the traitor? No, not Vicenete... was my first thought. But then... could he be?

My mind was becoming focused again, my purpose and resolve reaffirmed. I felt my fears, my anxieties, my emotions being swept away and hidden once again; I regained control, I regained my resolve. I had to kill him.

“I know you think that this...is necessary... but you always... always have a choice...” his voice was weaker, and his face had become even paler then customary. But I was no longer looking at his face, however; my eyes were only upon my dagger.

“Killing is all that I have. Without it, I am nothing.” My voice hard, full of conviction. And then I focused on his neck, no longer thinking of what lay above my line of sight- and dug the blade deep into his throat, pulling it across his neck with almost unnecessary force.

There was a sickening crack and his guttural breathing stopped- the only sound now that of blood streaming from his open neck to the cold stone slab, and dripping down onto the stone floors.

I watched for a moment as the thick liquid pooled up, swirling about in different shades of red, before wiping my dagger casually across his black tunic until it gleamed unheeded by blood once again. I cast my eye about the room scrutinizingly, before I swiveled on my heel to stride out of the room.

I closed the heavy doors behind me with a sense of finality, letting out a breath of air. Next, Ocheeva, my thoughts said, almost mechanically. As I strode purposefully up the hallway, my mind was occupied with plans to bring about her death with the least bit of trouble on my part. So intense was my plotting that I did not hear the footsteps in the Entry Hall until I was at the end of the corridor, at Ocheeva's doorway.

I turned to find Teinaava in the middle of the room, having just descended from the well ladder. I froze, staring at him with shock and horror. He was looking at me with the expression of one who has just spotted a dear friend, and is happy to do so.

“Ah, Adrienne! Good to see you,” he said, his voice jovial.

I nodded curtly in response, not trusting myself to speak. This wasn't right, he wasn't supposed to be here until evening! My plan was dissembling before my eyes, starting to crumble... I felt despair starting to take over, and I struggled to regain control.

He was now looking at me curiously, with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step forward.

I nodded once again, forcing a smile. He continued to watch me.

“Well I'm sure some food will make you feel better. Let's eat a late lunch, shall we?” he replied, eyes still a bit perturbed. I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach, dread overtaking me. Not to the Living Quarters, not there... I could not let him down there...

But I felt myself nodding once again in reply, and gesturing for him to walk before me with a gallant wave of my arm, not meeting his eyes. He smiled, and turned to make in the direction of the thick doors.

As he walked towards the doors, his step steady and ringing throughout my ears, I felt the customary sensation that I had to end that sound... but this time I did not wish to do so, as was also customary. I struggled to fight off this conflicting emotion, wincing in the effort. He was drawing close to the doors now, I had to strike soon. I could not let him into the Living Quarters, he would find the bodies... it was time.

I could not control my hand as it slid down my side for the dagger at my waist. The Blade of Woe felt foreign in my hand, despite it's familiarity. I started at his back, part of me preparing to break his flesh, and the other crying out in pain and anguish. I could not look him in the eye, and was thankful that I would not have to see his face as I delivered my blow.

Some part of me inside watched in horror as I drew close, raising the dagger high above my head. I gripped the hilt tightly, for my hands were shaking nearly uncontrollably. It must be now. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a breath.

Now.

In a flash I opened my eyes, the light from the lanterns nearly blinding me as I wound the dagger up backwards. Before I could hesitate I thrust the gleaming blade forwards, stabbing Teinaava in the back violently. I had aimed below his left shoulder, and I felt the dagger puncture his heart. I heard him gasp out in pain, yet with agonizing deliberation, I shoved the blade even further into his flesh, and then released it in disgust.

As I let go of the dagger, I watched as his body started to fall to the ground. I was breathing hard, an odd ringing in my ears, yet no rush of elation from the kill was coming. I felt empty, a sense of nothingness consuming me.

But as I continued to watch, I was horrified as his body started to twist back in my direction. As he fell, he was rotating his body to face me. He knew that this meant he would land on his back, which would stick the dagger even further into him... but he had to meet my eyes, for he could not believe this to be true. I could not turn away, and my eyes were wide when his met mine.

There was no pain in his eyes; at least, not physical pain. For when he met my eyes he could see in their hollowness, in their emptiness, that it was me. That I had stabbed him in the back. And his eyes were filled with betrayal and disbelief; he did not want to believe it... horror and sorrow, treachery and perfidy were clear in his cloudy eyes...

I felt whatever defense I had been keeping starting to further collapse around me as my heart was ripped in two, and my vision became cloudy as my eyes began to water. I could not draw my gaze from his eyes, as though they were keeping me in a trance; punishing me.

Teinaava hit the ground and let out a gasp of pain as the dagger appeared in his breast, having gone completely through his body. And from the adjoining room, a similar cry of pain was echoed. A second later thick doors swung open from behind us, and I felt Ocheeva brush past me as she ran to Teinaava, her arms outstretched and eyes wild, her own breast having felt the same pain. She dropped to her knees beside him, hands hovering over the dagger in horror before she cradled his head in her palms; but Teinaava did not look at her, for his eyes were still focused upon me, and they were now only full of sadness- almost a pity. I could not draw my gaze away, and with each moment I remained in eye contact with him I felt as though part of my self was drifting away.

His breath was short and labored now, and Ocheeva was rocking him back and forth with shaking hands, little sobs escaping her lips.

“Brother... brother...” she wailed.

Even then he did not turn to look at her, for his eyes were still upon me. Tears were pooling in my eyes now, and he was watching me almost coolly. He did not understand, could not comprehend... what had he done wrong? He had been my dearest friend... or so he had thought.. but now this... a knife in the back... he did not feel the pain from the wound, only the pain from a betrayed heart...

I finally looked him in the eye, a tear sliding slowly from my cheek while his eyes hardened- and suddenly he took one last painful gasp, shuddering, before his breathing stopped forever. And his eyes still lay upon me even in death, haunting me forever in their vacant and lifelessness.

I watched on, feeling oddly hollow and empty, a strange ringing in my ears- but nothing could mask Ocheeva's wails of anguish, holding the body of her egg-mate against her own, shaking back and forth with sorrow. I felt weak on my legs and fell against a pillar, pressing my head against the cold stone. I had done it. Teinaava was dead... I had killed my dearest friend... it was done...

As I looked at the scene before me, I realized that Teinaava was wearing his town clothes, not his customary dark leather armor- and I remembered a conversation we had once had... he had hated his town clothes... he always wore the Dark Brotherhood leather armor because he felt it was the most comfortable thing in the world... and he was happy that he would die in it, someday- during a contract, most likely... but no... I had taken that luxury from him...

I shouldn't have done it, not now! But it would have never been right... there was never a good time to kill your dearest friend...

Suddenly Ocheeva grew silent, and she lowered his body tenderly to the ground. And slowly, deliberately, she finally followed his gaze back to me, her eyes bewildered. But when she saw the look in my eyes, my empty, hollow eyes... almost like a void... a dawning comprehension appeared in her own. Her eyes widened, horrified, as she understood... and suddenly a fire lit within her as she narrowed her gaze, the anger radiating off her body in waves.

She stood slowly, watching me maniacally, her hands slowly going for the short sword at her waist. I blinked several times to clear my moist eyes, feeling a ripple of panic descend upon me. I did not have a weapon, and I knew her skill exceeded my own at battle. She drew her sword threateningly, eying me with vengeful triumph. I started to back away in fear, watching Ocheeva move closer.

Suddenly she let out a primal shriek of rage and retaliation, and charged forward at me, swinging her sword high above her head. I ducked and rolled, and I felt the wind from the sword's swing striking the pillar just above me, stone crumbling from the strength of the hit. I was stumbling backwards now, trying to prepare for her next move. She was stalking forward, a small smile of satisfaction on her lips. She made another swing for my head, and I spun backwards and opened the thick Training Room doors, her sword striking the metal hinge just below where my had lay. She gave a cry of frustration as I turned and sprinted down the hallway, trying to focus my mind and stop the flow of panic.

I entered the Training Room and could hear her following, grunting with animalistic fury. My eyes darted about the room frantically- and I spotted the weapons rack. I bounded over and whipped out a long, thin iron sword. I barely had time to turn and face the entryway, brandishing my sword up high, before Ocheeva appeared. Her step was cautious, but when she spotted me she instantly stood in battle stance, stalking forward with threatening precision. I was fingering the hilt of my sword with anticipation, trying to get a comfortable grip.

We were both waiting for the other to be the first to strike, each wanting the advantage of being on the defense for the first hit. After a moment of circling each other, Ocheeva's anger grew to be too much for her to contain and she darted forward, slicing downwards. I deflected the blow and retaliated by striking upwards towards her neck, but she swung her sword up just in time, the power of our clashing blade sending me backwards a few steps.

We sparred back and forth, feeling each other out. I was quicker, and she knew this- but Ocheeva was far stronger then I. Each time she deflected a blow the reverberations traveled up and down my arm, shaking to my very bones. I could not keep her at bay for long, and she also knew that.

As I was recovering from her latest attack, Ocheeva suddenly lashed back at me with an extraordinary speed, aiming to slice across my chest. I barely had time to throw my sword up horizontally to block the strike, her sword skimming my tunic. But instead of drawing back when our swords clanked together, she pushed forward, and hard. My arm gave out under her strength, and I stumbled backwards to be thrown back against the wall.

She gave a cry of triumph, brandishing her sword high as I fell, my breath thrown away as my back collided with the wall. She was swinging her sword at me, eyes wild with exultation, sure she had killed me now... I had rebounded off the wall, and was falling forward... my sword was slipping from my grasp, and I looked up in horror as hers came slicing towards me. I tried to duck my head, and in doing so leaned forward and automatically grasped at my falling sword... and I was shocked when I felt the sword puncture something, and when Ocheeva suddenly shouted out in pain, her thrust faltering.

I looked down to see that I had stabbed her in the foot, the sword having gone straight through and hit the stone floor beneath her. I whipped the blade out of her flesh and desperately swung towards her neck, but she was still able to block it with ease, despite her injury. Frustrated, I continued my onslaught heedlessly, driving her to step back with each strike, taking the advantage for the first time. We continued striking and blocking, the clanging of swords echoing throughout the empty hall.

I was pushing Ocheeva backwards, never stopping my flurry of attack, and we were progressing up the hallway towards the Entry Hall. She was limping slightly, her foot leaving a trail of blood behind her- but her attacks were as strong as ever, her eyes just as determined. Only her breathing had changed, becoming more labored. However, I was still unprepared when we reached the doors and she suddenly struck back with immeasurable ferocity. To avoid her sword I turned about in full circle, and she was now driving me back.

I was taking a step in recovery from the impact of a particularly strong thrust when I stepped on an uprise in the floor, slipping in something. I stumbled, and looked down to see that I had trod upon Teinaava's wrist, laying in a pool of blood. Ocheeva too looked down, but when her eyes landed upon the body of her brother they suddenly became disfocused, lingering on his face; and they lingered just long enough for me to recover my footing, regain my grip my sword, and drive it deep into her stomach.

She gasped, dropping her own sword with a clatter as mine pierced her inner organs. I pressed the swords hilt against the skin on her belly before heaving my it back out of her- then I sliced it violently across her stomach, blood gushing forth as her innards spilled out onto the stone floor. She dropped to her knees, bloody hands grasping at the wound on her stomach. She looked up at me, a scowl of pain and anger upon her face. And suddenly I felt a wave of self revulsion so powerful that I nearly threw up; what had I done?

“I'm sorry...” I choked out, staggering on my feet, my sword also clattering to the floor as I let it slip from my fingers. She returned my statement with a look of withering resentment and disbelief, before gasping out in pain as a fresh spurt of blood surged from her stomach. She looked down at her wound, a tear escaping her reptilian eye. I watched as she fell forward on her stomach, landing right next to Teinaava, who lay on his back. Her pool of blood joined his, merging together in a swirl of crimson. They lay side by side now in the end, just as they had lain together so long ago in the beginning.

I fell to my knees at their heads, my eyes watering as I looked down at the bodies of the Argonian twins. Ocheeva was breathing long, laborious breaths, coughing up blood. She shifted her head towards her brother, staring at Teinaava with loving and sad eyes- a smile appeared on her face, and her eyes suddenly seemed far away. And the breathing stopped.

I was silent for a moment, listening intently- but no more breath came, the only sound that of blood dripping on the stone floors. And now my eyes were burning with tears, my body shaking uncontrollably. I looked about the Sanctuary in an oddly detached way, as though through someone else's eyes. It didn't feel real... but what was real and inescapable was the awful pressing feeling in my chest, like an iron grip around my heart... everything I had been trying to escape, all that I had been trying to repress, it was suddenly let loose in a explosion of emotion.

I let out a shriek of anguish, leaning down and pressing my face to the cold stone. I was sobbing, emotion pouring out of me like I had never experienced, for I had accepted the enormous and incomprehensible truth- they were dead, all of them, by my hand...

I remembered the feeling of elation I had felt when I first came here- at finally belonging, finally having a family. And now I had destroyed it. I was alone again. Alone. I would never again hear the loud, booming voice of Gogron telling his stories of blood and gore, never again the echoing laughter of Teinaava, Telaendril and myself as we listened on... nor the eloquent voice of Vicente Valtieri, or Ocheeva's attempts at remaining serious when she walked in on our drunken mayhem...

M'raaj Dar's hopeful and overjoyed expression when I accepted his truce; Gogron's trusting face as I handed him the apple; Vicente's words of understanding and choice; Teinaava's look of betrayal as he turned to face me after I stabbed him in the back... and Ocheeva's horrified expression, and her question, “Why?”... and her final glare of hatred... each flashed before me, haunting me vengefully.

I don't know how long I sat there- but I know that it was long enough for my eyes to run dry and my voice to become hoarse from weeping, until I had started to shake with silent sobs. I became still then, lifting my head from the stone floor.

Why... the question echoed throughout my mind. Why did I do this? Doubt encompassed me, filling my grieving soul. I had to, I had no choice... But did I? Vicente said that you always have a choice... No. I did the only thing I could do.

I was staring blankly at the bodies, uncomprehendingly watching as the pool of blood inched ever closer to my knees, a pounding sensation in my ears... when suddenly something broke through my veil of grief, and I looked up in alarm.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the scarlet glow emitting off the ancient door, was Antoinetta Marie.

She was staring at the bodies, taking in the scene with wide eyes, gleaming red. I felt a wave of shock; how had I forgotten Antoinetta? And as I watched her, a small smile appeared on my face, a familiar sensation starting to wash over me. I felt a rush run through my blood, a thrill rising in my stomach- finally, I was going to kill Antoinetta Marie! The girl who had made every effort to make my life difficult, who would hiss words of insult while the other's backs were turned... who taunted me, almost pressuring me into breaking the tenants to kill her... well now, the tenants could not protect her any longer...

I looked up and saw with surprise that she too was smiling- a triumphant smile, full of malicious glee.

“I always knew that you were a traitor,” she spat out, taking a step closer to me. I arched an eyebrow, rising slowly to my feet. My eyes were dry now, not a trace of the sorrow detectable, for they were now glowing in sadistic anticipation.

“Yes..”, she nodded, still smiling. “I knew you were too good to be true...” Her expression turned bitter. “Oh how they would go on about you! But I guess they saw the truth there, in the end...”

I was watching her intently, just as she was watching me- her eyes were gleaming with felicity, for her most wild dreams seemed to have come true- that she would expose me as a traitor, and take all the glory... she did not seem to mind that it meant the death of her fellow family members...

I was stepping backwards, trying to avoid the bodies of Teinaava and Ocheeva, eying her right hand as it hovered near the hilt of her sword. Suddenly I stumbled, and I looked down and cursed as I realized I had almost tripped over Teinaava's wrist again. And I lifted my head to see a small dagger spiraling towards me. The filthy coward!

I dropped to the ground, landing clumsily on my back as the dagger sliced through strands of my hair. Antoinetta let out a cry of fury, reaching for her sword. I gasped, flipping over and frantically crawling forward, reaching towards the sword lying next to Ocheeva's body. Antoinetta started to sprint towards me, her eyes blazing like a madwoman, her blade gleaming menacingly in the torch light. I gripped the hilt of the bloodied sword and rolled to the side, Antoinetta's blade striking the ground where I had laid seconds before.

In a flash I had leapt to my feet, balanced on my toes and fully prepared in battle stance. She was doing the same, panting hard and expression sour. Our eyes were locked as we circled each other, the mutual hatred emanating off our very bodies and making the air thick with anger and loathing.

I was the first to strike, slicing first downwards and then cutting quickly upwards. She blocked it and retaliated quickly, stabbing towards my stomach. I jumped to the side, bending my back to avoid the attack. We continued like this, jabbing and sparring, until suddenly I found myself being backed into a corner. She was driving me backwards, and I could not regain control of the battle. I tried to take a step forwards, but she cut downwards at my foot and I was forced to retreat once again.

Suddenly she swung her sword high over her head and struck downwards, and even though I blocked it easily, the force of the blow forced me to stagger a few steps- and I was shocked when I hit my back on a stone wall. As I was trying to recover my footing, she stabbed forwards with her blade. I turned my head to the side, but was not quick enough. I gasped in pain and surprise as the sword sliced my flesh, a deep gash appearing on my cheek. My hand flew to my face, and when I drew it away it was covered in dark red blood. Antoinetta was recovering from her strike, watching me triumphantly.

“Oh no, did I scar your pretty face?” she mocked, her face twisted in scornful derision.

Blood was pouring down the side of my face, and I felt it dripping over my lip. I opened my mouth and let the red liquid stream onto my tongue. As I stood again, Antoinetta preparing to swing her sword again, I prepared a mouthful of blood. Just as she started to laugh, cutting her blade up towards my stomach, I violently spit out a mixture of saliva and blood at her face.

With a shriek of disgust, she fell back, hands flying to her eyes where the spit had hit her. I pushed myself off from the wall and kicked her violently in the stomach. She stumbled back, hands still wiping frantically at her eyes. I stepped forward, ready to deliver a killing blow, my heart racing in joyful anticipation... but suddenly she recovered as my blade cut towards her face, and she struck back, our swords clanging above our heads. The shock was too much and my arm gave out, causing me to drop my sword with a deafening clatter.

But she was pushed back by the impact as well, and fell back a bit- but her face was full of such triumph, like she felt that she had won... and I felt a fury rise up within me, such anger, that I needed to act upon it. I needed the violence...

And before any further thought, I swung my right fist around and punched Antoinetta in the face with all my might. The impact alone felt as though it cracked my knuckles- and maybe even her cheekbone, I thought with satisfaction. But something I did not realize until I heard Antoinetta's cry of horror was that my ring, the Ring of Cruelty, had been upon my finger- and it had dug straight into her right eye, destroying it. Blood and tissue was pouring forth from the gory mass, and she was gasping in agony as she pawed helplessly at it's remains.

“Oh no, I think I've scarred your face!” I hissed, looking down at my ring with disgust. It was covered in skin and blood.

She lowered her hands from her face slowly, shuddering in silent sobs of pain. Her eyelid had already swollen down and covered the eye socket, and only a bloody mass of skin could be seen- it was a gory sight indeed. But she was shifting her hand on the hilt of her sword, regaining a firm grip. Her remaining eye was fixed upon me, filled with a loathing that I could not have thought possible. I was suddenly aware that my sword lay on the ground to my left, far from my reach.

“I am going to cut off your head... and present it to Lucien Lachance... and show him what his little prodigy truly is!” she said, her voice quivering with fury and bubbling with the blood flowing from her eye.

And suddenly, unexpectedly, I found myself laughing uproariously. She became dangerously still, and I laughed even harder. That jealous little witch... I thought with disdain. Everything that she had ever said to me, all her hatred for all this time, suddenly made sense, finally confirmed. Jealousy. It was so pathetic I could not help but be amused. But also as I was laughing, I was slowly inching towards my fallen sword.

“Darling-” I spat out uncharacteristicly. “- Lucien was the one who sent me to kill you!”

And I ducked downwards, reaching for my blade. As I gained my grip on the hilt I swung upwards automatically, but was met with nothing but open air- she had not attacked me. Instead she was still standing motionless, her expression blank.

“You lie,” she said, her voice hollow. I arched an eyebrow, and swung my sword towards her neck. She lifted her blade with both hands and blocked it- our swords clanged together, each of us pressing hard to push the other back, locked in the struggle. I leaned forward, sliding my lips near her ear.

“I would never,” I whispered, and pushed forward with all my strength. She staggered back, her expression aghast.

“You can't... both be traitors... not Lucien...” she murmured, eyes pleading for disbelief.

“But aren't you the traitor, Antoinetta?” I asked scathingly. I had meant it only to infuriate her, and was shocked when she nearly dropped her sword with horror in response to my question.

“How could...?” was her vague question, her eyes wide with surprise and dismay- but I paid her no heed, giving no thought to what this could mean.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, blood and adrenaline coursing through my veins; I felt a familiar thrill building in my stomach. Now, now was my chance! I watched my sword sail through the air towards her exposed neck with an expression of the utmost joy, eyes alight with a primal exultation. As my blade came close to her flesh I closed my eyes in ecstasy, mouth agape as I felt the sword cut into her skin. My blow was so powerful that I felt the blade break straight through her spine, severing her skull from her body in one thrust. I heard the “thump” of her head landing on the ground, and opened my eyes to the dazzling scene before me.

Finally, at long last, Antoinetta was dead! I felt such a feeling of elation like none I had ever experienced form a kill- I had

[Burnt Sierra]

I've been reading this for some time now, and rate it as one of the best Elder Scrolls fanfictions that I've read, so I'm delighted to see it here now as well

Think it might take you a while to get some replies though, it'll take people ages to read everything you just posted. Might have been easier to drip feed us some a bit at a time

But for me, a real pleasure to see you and your story here.

[Black Hand]

Welcome to my end of the swamp, alshallfade, nice to see your work posted here! I've read it on the main site, and rangersguild as well, you like to get your work out there I see!