This is a little something I've been toying with for awhile. I've decided to bring it out to the forums here. This story will include the original version of Kalila Blackstone, from Madness Helps me Save Myself. This version of her has absolutely no ties to the one borrowed in the story.

Speaking of, Madness Helps me Save Myself will continue as planned. Sometimes working on something separate for a while soothes my writer's block.





In a perfect world, it would have been an assassin. Or maybe a bandit. It would be someone who was out to hurt her, who justifiably deserved to die. However, as Tara Karminova clutched her dagger to her chest, she knew it would be no such person. The world was too imperfect.

She looked around the dark alleys of the Imperial City Market District for someone no one would miss. Guilt weighed in her heart for even thinking that. Did someone’s life have less value just because they had no one to miss them? Of course not. But, she needed someone whose death wouldn’t prompt a thorough investigation. Maybe a skooma addict.

Oh, dear gods, what am I doing? She leaned against the wall of one of the shops. Her heart was no longer fluttering and her stomach no longer churned. Instead, she seemed to simply accept it. That was what scared her. “It’s for Clarissa,� she reminded herself. “It’s for her.� She clenched the grip of her dagger tightly and continued lurking through the alleys.

At first she thought she had blended in quite well with the street urchins in the Imperial City. She simply threw on an old, dirty robe that had torn a little on the bottom. Her brown hair was unbrushed and thrown back in a messy bun. Once she saw the beggars in person, however, she realized how far off she was. Their clothes weren’t just dirty, they were barely intact enough to keep them out of prison for indecent exposure. None of them wore the soft cotton that she was in. They appeared to be stitched together from odd pieces of fabric and sackcloth. Tara was also far too healthy looking. Her cheeks were somewhat plump and the robe hugged her frame tightly, revealing that she didn’t often go hungry. The beggars were nothing but skin and bones. The biggest difference was their eyes. Tara could easily tell who had lived on the street by the hardness or loss of hope in their eyes. There was no way for her to imitate them in that way.

She turned behind the Copious Coinpurse into a small garden. It was empty save for a young woman sleeping on the ground. Tara crept toward her, running her finger over the black soul gem stashed in her pocket. It would have been much easier to cast some sort of spell on her, but Tara thought a stabbing would look far more ordinary than magic.

The girl stirred slightly as Tara approached. Tara straddled her and turned her on her back. She was pretty. She had quite a young face. She was probably no more than nineteen. Tara hesitated for a moment before raising her hand. A violet flash erupted from her fist and washed over the girl. Once that was done she took out the dagger and plunged it into the girl.

The girl opened her eyes wide as blood oozed onto Tara. A scream rose from her throat and Tara quickly covered the girl’s mouth with her free hand, stabbing again and again until the girl stopped moving. She wished she had known where to plunge for a more painless and instant death. That part of her research had been overlooked. Tara took out the soul gem and was satisfied with the glow of the girl’s soul.

She got up and panted, staring at the girl’s body. Did she have parents? A sister? Probably not, since she had been sleeping there alone. Still, Tara was overcome with mixed emotions.

“It’s for Clarissa,� she said to herself.



Tara had to hold in her disgust as she stared upon Clarissa’s corpse.

Three years had passed since Clarissa Blackstone’s murder and time had not been kind. Clarissa’s skin was gone for the most part, only remaining in small patches. On the pieces of skin around her temples, sat dry tufts of her once luxurious black hair, though the slightest brush would turn it to dust. Her bones were not white, like the models shown at the Arcane University. Instead they were a filthy brown. The sockets that once held beautiful grey eyes were now empty and covered by a paper thin layer of skin. The gown she had been buried in had long since been eaten away. Though she went out and bought a new robe, Tara did not look forward to redressing her. Logically that shouldn’t have bothered her any more than digging Clarissa up or even setting her body on the kitchen table.

Tara wanted to pass the time doing something other than staring at Clarissa, but she was unable to take her eyes off of her. She was repulsed but fascinated at the same time. When she finally tore her eyes away, she decided to head into the basement to distract herself.

Just yesterday, the basement was full of alchemical equipment. The shelves had been lined with empty bottles and crates full of filled ones ready to be sent off to the different Mages Guild halls. Jars of ingredients sat along the windows. Now it was empty. The windows were boarded. A metal collar attached to a long chain sat in the center of the room. Tara picked it up and tugged it with all her strength. It held fast to the wall. She sighed deeply and dusted off her hands. Hopefully it would withstand the added strength of the undead.

She took a broom from a corner and started sweeping. Clarissa still deserves cleanliness, she thought. But the basement was usually kept neat and there was nothing much to sweep. She finished in seconds. She looked at the Mages Guild banners still hanging on the walls. Her eyes welled up with tears. How could she still keep those up knowing what she was going to do? How could she ever look at Arch-Mage Traven in the eye again?

With a trembling hand, she took the banners down. She tried telling herself that it was to keep them from getting ruined, but deep down she knew it was because she felt unworthy.

When she returned upstairs she was pleased to see that the hourglass was nearly empty. It was time.

For something so complex, it was strange that it was so simple to accomplish. She had imagined an elaborate ritual involving candles and conjuring. Strangely, the hardest part had been obtaining the soul gem. That and getting the soul. She closed her eyes, forcing away the image of the girl she had killed. She couldn’t afford to think about it. All spells, complex or not, required confidence and concentration.

Her home along the Lake Rumare was close enough to hear the temple bell from the Imperial City. As it rang twelve times, Tara placed the soul gem directly over where Clarissa’s heart had been. She focused on the soul inside, transferring it the way she would to an item.

The soul was stubborn. Even in death, it resisted Tara’s demand, almost as if it knew that it would cease to exist as itself. Tara trembled violently. Her heart pounded hard and she broke into a sweat. The soul would cooperate. It had no choice.

Tara grunted hard when the soul finally entered Clarissa. She panted heavily as the gem crumbled into dust, falling into Clarissa’s bare rib cage.

Clarissa’s eyelids fluttered. She sat up, turning her face toward Tara. Though the sockets were empty, she could feel the intense stare going straight through her. Tara backed up instantly. Would Clarissa remember? Or would she react with hostility? Clarissa opened her mouth, though the only sound that escaped was a dry crackle. Her body wouldn’t return to a normal living being until she received more souls.

“Clarissa,� Tara whispered. “Do you remember me?� She took a step forward. “I’m your sister.�

Clarissa tilted her head back and forth. A chunk of skin plopped on the floor causing a surge of bile to rise in Tara’s throat. She swallowed it back down and forced herself to ignore it.

“Everything is okay now,� she said. “You’re back home now.�

She held out her hand. Clarissa ignored it, seeming to be more confused than anything.

“She’s just in shock,� Tara said to herself. She glanced at the robe. She decided to put it on her when she had more skin as there was nothing really to cover.

She led Clarissa into the basement and locked the collar around her neck. “This is just to keep you safe. When you’re back to normal you can have your old room back. I’ll even get you into the Arcane University like you always wanted.� She sighed, not knowing why she said that. That wouldn’t be possible. Everyone knew that Clarissa had been dead a long time.

Clarissa crackled again, though Tara doubted that she understood anything she had been saying anyway. No need to feel like a liar, right? she wondered. “I’m going to go clean upstairs and then I’ll have to fix up your grave outside. I can’t have it looking like it’s been recently disturbed. I’ll be back soon.�

Once she was back in the living room, she locked the basement door and then placed a plank of wood in front of it. She couldn’t chance Clarissa getting out into the open. She would be killed on sight. Tara couldn’t have that. She refused to lose her twice.

She immediately set out sweeping up the living room and kitchen. There was so much dirt. Too much. Should any guild mates come for a visit, she felt it would cause immediate suspicion. Maybe it was just paranoia, but at the same time, her sudden insistence to work from her home instead of the guild halls already seemed strange. Sure, months had passed since then, the nagging feeling remained stuck in her mind.

Though it had to be done, she couldn’t keep her mind on her task. She felt drained. She sank to her knees staring at the basement door. She could hear Clarissa shuffling faintly, the chain jingling with her every movement. She glanced at the turquoise banner on the wall bearing the Mages Guild symbol. Her life as she knew it was over. She wept.

This is an excellent introduction into your story! I could feel the tense clutch of fear and uncertainty as Tara wandered through the night in search of an innocent soul, and the description of Clarissa's corpse was creepily dead-on!

And the images you evoked of the undead Clarissa...or soon to be living through some dark means?, was provocative in the grisly horror it brought to mind.

Yet, that quote you provided from Nietzsche in the beginning ties in perfectly with the underlying humanity contained within this story. The irrational desire to bring our individual sense of fairness to an unfair world, a desire that has little to do with morality, and everything to do with love. A selfish love perhaps,....but love.

This is quite the promising start to what seems to be an interesting character. Most necromancer characters I've read have explored necromancy because of their lust for power. Tara is only the second necro character I've read who've gone into this out of love for one who was lost too soon. But I fail to see how this will turn out well for both Tara and Clarissa - wouldn't it be better to leave the dead in their eternal sleep? How can Tara keep true to herself as she seeks to recover what she once had with her sister? Will she end up following an even darker path - one that leads to insanity and Oblivion? There are so many questions raised by this little beginning that I want to see more of this story.

An excellent piece! You have given us a character whom we can identify with, as who would not move Aetherius and Nirn for their sibling? Yet at the same time one who is chilling, given the depths that Tara is willing to go to in order to get her sister back. Or at least a reasonable facsimile of her sister. As h.e.r. noted, this cannot end well. But it is a good example of how many people are doubtlessly lured down the path of necromancy. A very cool and creepy tale!


nits:
Three years had passed since the Clarissa Blackstone’s murder and time had not been kind.
I think you have a the left over from a previous edit.

to the different Mage’s Guilds
This is one that I wrestled with at first too. There is no apostrophe in Mages Guild, or the Fighters Guild for that matter.

You manage to take a character whose actions I want to abhor- and make me care about her. And the Nietzsche quote captures the "why" of that perfectly.

The descriptions are immediate and- well- creepy. But that is in keeping with the subject matter. Like haute, I do not see a "happy" ending- but then, not all stories do end happily.

One typo:

"...empty, she could feel the intese stare..."

The stare must have been so disconcerting that it scared the "n" out of "intense."

Interesting read, but I don't like the character yet. I'll read the next update.

I am completely creeped out and intrigued. I like that Tara is appalled by what she is doing, it makes her interesting. And of course Clarissa faintly shuffling and jingling her chain in the basement will have me turning the lights on tonight.

I am eager to see the next part Clarissa may be getting in trouble... Exciting

Black Hand~ Your last paragraph was exactly what that part was about and you described it wonderfully

haute cole rider~ I'm glad to see all the questions. Of course they'll be answered as the story progresses

SubRosa~ Its something I wish the Elder Scrolls would note, that not all necromancers would do it just to have undead slaves. I'm sure at least a few would do it out of desperation to have a loved one back.

treydog~ I knew the moment I heard the quote (well, technically a reference to it) that it would be perfect for this story.

King Coin~ Well to be honest, she isn't exactly meant to be liked right now, especially seeing what she did

Grits~ I imagine some first-time killers would be appalled... then again maybe not all that appalled since they go through with it

Zaphlon~ I'm glad you find it exciting. That's been my biggest worry about posting this, if it was exciting enough




Kalila Blackstone sat in Hannibal Traven’s office just as she had countless times throughout her stay at the Arcane University. She sat up straight, her green eyes lowered as though she were in trouble. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap. Traven couldn’t help noticing that her green robe lacked any adornments. Most students added their own touches, like a colorful sash or some jewelry. Not Kalila. Strangely, it was her lack of distinction that made her stand out among her peers.

Traven smiled gently at her and received a slight one in return. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a full, beaming smile from her. Not even while Clarissa had been alive. The girl was just too damn serious.

“So,� he said, his hands folded on his desk. “Graduation is coming up. Have you given any thought to your plans afterward?�

“Sir?� She looked questioningly at him. “I’ve told you the same thing every time you have asked me for the past ten years. I am going to be a battlemage.�

He nodded, chuckling a little. “That you have. You know, most students come here with a goal in mind but it changes drastically over the years. By the time they’ve graduated, they want to pursue something completely different.�

“Not me. I’ve known what I’ve wanted for years.�

“Alright, well let’s see how you’re doing academically.�

Traven set out a piece of parchment and tapped it once with a wand. Before their eyes Kalila’s grades appeared.



Traven nodded as he looked it over. “I see you still require assistance in restoration.� He looked up at her. “Have you considered joining the Mages Guild? There’s one in Anvil that would greatly help you with restoration.�

Kalila hesitated before speaking. “I had considered it briefly,� she said. “But I’m not so sure I’d want to join. Even here, I’m known as Tara Karminova’s kid sister. If I do well, it’s attributed to her. If I fail, then they remark how good Tara was at it. I would much rather be merited on my own skill, not hers.�

Traven nodded. He, too, had been guilty of that crime when they first met.

Even if she weren’t a skilled mage, it was obvious that they were related. They shared many of their mother’s facial features and many of the same mannerisms. Traven quickly averted his eyes. He had never noticed it before, how similar she was to Tara. Beautiful Tara… He cleared his throat.

“It’s true that the Karminova family has produced some especially talented mages. Your mother, though she dropped out, had extraordinary talent, as does your sister, and you as well. It may be a little annoying to be under their shadow, but I assure you that you will make a name of your own, especially with your skill in destructive magic.�

Kalila didn’t say anything.

“You know, I was head of the Anvil Mages Guild and we did train a lot of people who went on to become wonderful battlemages.�

Her eyebrows raised slightly.

“You see, it’s not all shields and fireballs. You have to be able to heal yourself or one of your allies in case of serious injury. That said, the Anvil Guild is a wonderful place not only to learn, but it would be a good opportunity for you to go out and see more of Cyrodiil. You’ve never left the Imperial City area. Anvil is a beautiful place. Its right on the coast, so you can have the most amazing views and you wake up to the scent of the ocean.�

He could tell that she was considering it. After a long pause she sighed. “And you’re sure this will help me?�

“Kalila, I would never steer any of my students in the wrong direction. Just think it over and if you decide that’s what you want, I will write you a glowing recommendation.�

Her eyes lowered for awhile before raising back up to his. “Alright.�

She stood up and turned to leave.

“Oh, Kalila?�

“Yes, sir?�

He paused, trying to appear nonchalant. “Will Tara be attending your graduation ceremony?�

“Yes. Last I heard our mother is sailing around the Summerset Isles so she won’t be back in time.�

“Ah.� Traven nodded, once again unable to get the image of Tara from his mind. “I look forward to seeing her.�



Kalila left the room and sighed deeply. She tried not to view it as a setback. She knew Traven was right, after all. Her restoration was atrocious compared to her other skills and it would prove necessary on the battlefield. Still, she had planned on going into training straight after the University since childhood. Instead of a setback, she tried to think of it as a slight curve in the path.

She walked back to her dorm room and once she was there she stared out the window. Her favorite thing about her room was that it had a view of the training field. She watched the battlemages train for a moment before deciding to close the curtains. There were so many of them and not a single one was able to respond to a distress flare? Disgraceful. Though everyone told her not to place blame on anyone but the murderers she couldn’t help holding them at least partially responsible for Clarissa’s death. For heaven’s sakes, it would have been a mere five minutes to their house on horseback. There was simply no reason why Clarissa should have died!

She sat on her bed, tears threatening to fall. Clarissa was only a child when she died. She had such a bright future ahead of her. Traven was right. The Karminova bloodline had produced many skilled mages: Tara with, well, anything, Kalila with destruction, and Clarissa was already good at alchemy without any formal training. She would have been great, even better than Claudette Perrick on her best day.

Tara laying in the corner, a dagger sticking out from her stomach. A pool of blood seeped onto the floor, surrounding her. Clarissa was bleeding at well, though instead of from her stomach, it appeared to be coming from her thighs, her neck bent at an impossible angle. A noose was still around her throat. Kalila felt a sharp pain in her back, followed by another. She looked down and saw the arrowhead protruding from her shoulder.

Her hand flew up to her chest and her legs clamped shut.

She woke in the Arcane University’s infirmary. Tara was sobbing on the bed to her right. The pain in her back was dulled. She could feel stitches in her shoulder. There was a small body on the bed on her left. The sheets were pulled over its head. Tara was screaming for Clarissa. “Bring her back,� she screamed. Some people injected her arm with something. She quieted down soon after.

“Bring her back,� she whispered. If only.

A new character! The sister to our anti-heroine no less. Widening the perspective a bit, we see the the affection that Clarissa had in life and the trauma her death produced. Well done, and please continue!

This is really a heartbreaking piece and just adds to the tragedy that was Clarissa and is Tara. What will happen when Kalila finds out what Tara is up to? I assume that she doesn't yet know the truth. Tara strikes me as the super-secretive type - brooding, not talking to anyone, even her own cousin.

And yes, part of being a battle-mage includes being able to heal on the battlefield. Otherwise, if you're the only one left standing, what's the point? So she's thinking about heading off to Anvil now, is she? Wonder what she'll find there?

If I do well, it’s attributed to her. If I fail, then they remark how good Tara was at it.

This is so true! Then the younger person ends up defined by the older even more, as trying to get out from under the shadow guides their choices more than what would be natural just for them.

I don’t need a story to be exciting all of the time, as long as it is interesting. I find your story very, very interesting!! I look forward to more.

I like how believable Tara is. I can't wait for more

Hey! Where did this come from? GAAAAH !!! I just saw this Jacki, will have to do some catch-up! <3

Black Hand~ Yes, Kalila (hopefully) will be the one to show the other side of the coin when it comes to Tara's actions.

haute ecole rider~ I wouldn't say Tara is more brooding, but as she has a lot at stake in the Mages Guild, she is super, super secretive!

Grits~ I'm glad its interesting I was worried about topping the adventures of a poor mortal getting tangled with the Madgod

Zalphon~ Thank you Out of all the major characters in the story, Tara is actually the most recent creation and I think that gives her the advantage as she isn't over developed therefore easier to make work naturally.

mALX~ Lol! Yeah this has been hidden away for very old characters that don't quite fit with Wrothken's tale



The kitchen was once Tara’s favorite room in the house. The warmth of family meals always made it seem brighter than normal. Now it was lonely, what with Kalila at the University , her mother, Rhianna Karminova at sea, and Clarissa dead.

Well, not so much dead anymore, she reminded herself as she sliced some vegetables for dinner. But without digestive organs, Clarissa had no need for food yet. Tara dreaded the day she would need to eat. She still hadn’t found out whether or not necromancers fed their “creations� human flesh out of necessity or for kicks. She huffed in disgust. Those were the ones that needed to be stopped. The ones that did it for nothing. At least she had a reason for it, a very good reason… not that it would make a difference if she were caught.

“Clarissa,� she called to the open basement door. “When you can eat again, what would you like me to make? I can fry up some chicken or maybe a casserole? And of course I’ll make you a big cake! Chocolate pumpkin marble, your favorite! Do you remember?�

The jingling of Clarissa’s chain was the only answer. She knew it would be, but she felt like hearing her voice would be helpful, maybe even soothing, as the long process went on.

Tara went down to take a look at her. Some of her old toys had been brought down, but seemingly ignored. Clarissa simply walked around the room as far as her chain would allow. Tara frowned. She couldn’t believe how long it was going to take to get her even partially back to her old self. It was like having a mudcrab wander the basement! Still, getting her closer meant killing again. That was something she would happily put off if possible.

The faint sound of galloping caught her attention. It wasn’t the casual trot of someone on patrol. It was quick, the rider knowing exactly where they were going. And it was heading for the house.

Tara quickly shut the basement door and locked it. The good thing about Clarissa not having vocal chords was that she couldn’t cry out and cause suspicion. Yet.

The galloping stopped and was replaced with heavy footsteps. There was a knock at the door.

Tara took a deep breath before opening it. Act natural.

A battle mage stood before her dressed in his uniform. “Wizard Karminova?� Though it was a question, they both knew that he was fully aware of who she was.

“Can I help you with something?�

He pulled out a letter and handed it to her. Hannibal Traven’s official seal was on the front.

She tried to keep her face expressionless. After all there was no way he could have found out already and even if he did, he would send a whole group after her, not just one man. The battle mage stood there waiting. Traven must have wanted a response.



She sighed. Thank the gods it was only that. “Oh, alright.� She looked at the battle mage, though not before glancing at the basement door. “Please, come in while I write out my response.�

She showed the battle mage to her living room, kicking herself mentally for not straightening up further. A few of her alchemical supplies were still scattered on her armchair and on the coffee table. The Mages Guild banners were still draped on the couch.

“I had to rearrange some things,� she offered before he could ask. “With my sister graduating, I wasn’t sure if she’d be staying with me for awhile.�

“Ah…� he said. He had no reason to disbelieve her, but Tara still felt nervous.



She pressed the end of the quill to her lip.



“Here you are,� she said folding it up. She didn’t bother sealing it. Frankly, she wanted the battlemage out of there before any strange jingles came from the basement. She handed him a septim for the postage and another as a tip.

“Thank you, ma’am,� he said with a nod.

“Ma’am?� She asked aloud after he left. Good gods, she wasn’t that old, was she?



The morning of the graduation, Tara went down to visit Clarissa. Clarissa had been sitting cross legged on the ground. One of her dolls was before her. Clarissa didn’t touch it. She simply stared. Tara wondered how she could see from empty sockets. When she heard a faint, steady crackling from the girl it occurred to her that it could be a form of echolocation.

Tara knelt next to her and waved her hand in front of Clarissa’s face, slowly. Clarissa mimicked the motion. She gasped softly as she realized what an opportunity she had. No one in the Mages Guild had studied very much of the undead. Doing so would cause far too much suspicion and could result in being kicked out. However, it could be beneficial at least for personal study.

Everyone knew what the undead did, but not how. Figuring that out could greatly help adventurers and mages clear out some of the haunted locations or caves of necromancers. The evil necromancers, she corrected herself, as she was technically a necromancer herself.

“Clarissa, I have to go out for a few hours,� she said. “Kalila is graduating from the university today. Do you remember her?�

Clarissa only crackled.

“She’s grown up a lot since you… since you last saw her. She misses you very, very much even though she won’t talk about it.�

Hell, Kalila wouldn’t talk about much of anything these days.

Tara stood up and glanced back at Clarissa. She would be fine in the house alone. Tara just hoped no one tried to break in while she was away.



Kalila sat with the rest of her class, all of them dressed in bright purple robes and the traditional caps. Of course hers kept slipping and frankly, it looked ridiculous. She couldn’t wait to toss hers up with the rest of her class… and abandon it afterwards.

She stared up at the stage where Arch-magister Traven was speaking. Dreams, hopes, future, blah, blah, blah. She looked behind him. High Chancellor Ocato was there, looking about as bored as Kalila was. Next to him were the heads of the Cyrodiil Mages Guild halls and a few other prominent mages. And Tara.

Something was off about her. She was usually poised and confident looking. Today she seemed nervous. She kept wringing her hands and glancing elsewhere.

Traven stepped down and the audience applauded. Someone else took the stage, basically echoing Traven’s sentiments.

Kalila turned her gaze toward the section for the students’ families. Proud parents from all over wept and clapped, occasionally shouting out their child’s name. A couple even blew loud horns when a speech was particularly touching.

She scanned the crowd for her own parents, but didn’t see them. That meant that her mother was probably not there. Rhianna Karminova was known for many things, but blending in wasn’t one. She would have brought her entire crew for the occasion and would be hooting and hollering throughout the speeches. It was just as well, she supposed. If her father happened to be there, then there would be yet another ugly fight between them. Kalila didn’t feel like playing referee on her graduation day.

Another round of applause went by and another speaker stood up.

Kalila looked down at the ground. She sighed. She had spent so many years at the Arcane University. It was going to be strange not going every day. It would be even stranger being in Anvil. For the first time in her life, she would be truly on her own. Well, not entirely. She knew a few people who would be going there as well but this time Tara would be nowhere near and save for the Guild, she had no one she had to report to. It was exhilarating yet anxiety quivered in her stomach.

After the last applause, Tara stood at the podium.

“What an unforgettable day for everyone present,� she began. “It wasn’t too long ago that I sat in your seats,� she said to the students.

Sure, if nearly a decade isn’t too long ago, Kalila thought, pursing her lips to keep from giggling.

“I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mother stood proudly in the audience, with a flag she had enchanted to let out fireworks every time she waved it. My two younger sisters sat with her, beaming with pride, as I do now looking at one of them among her students.� Tara smiled at Kalila.

Several people turned and glanced at her. Kalila wanted to sink into her seat. Did she have to be so sentimental all the time?

“This is the moment where life begins whether you go into your chosen profession or continue your education even further through the Mages Guild. The best part about right now is that you can still do anything, anything at all.�

As Tara began going on about successes and achievements, Kalila thought about the day Tara had graduated. Though Tara remembered it well, much of it was a blur to Kalila. She remembered Rhianna’s flag and also Rhianna fighting with her father over whether or not he had any business there, as he was not Tara’s father. She also remembered her mother getting fined for assault over it. Most of all, she remembered Clarissa jumping up and down and screaming Tara’s name as she walked across the stage. Tara was right. Clarissa had been beaming with pride over it, as though she had a hand in Tara’s success.

A change in Tara’s voice grabbed Kalila’s attention. She sounded distant and she was looking away again. “And you may find yourself doing things you never imagined you would. And you’ll find that beliefs you held dear, that were once unshakable, you just might think the opposite one day. Just keep an open mind and listen to your gut above all else and you’ll do just fine. Thank you.�

Kalila clapped along with the rest of the audience, though she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was definitely up with Tara.

*Opens mouth to say something*...*Closes it*...

Erm...

Wow...Umm...My eyes misted over...Genuinely...

Fantastic...


Nice one... ...

You have a really nice deep undercurrent of emotions going in this chapter, very poignient moments and very realistically portrayed !! Awesome Write !!

How did you sneak two posts by without me noticing? Well, now that I realized you have updates, I had best start reading!

So Kalila gets an aqua robe instead of the usual green bag? No fair! I did like Traven's assessment of her, and how she stood out by not standing out. So nice to see that she is also a sister of the faint smile.

Oh, I loved how Traven pulled up her grades on his parchment computer! That is the everyday use of magic that I like seeing in fiction.

And it seems Traven is smitten with her sister. I was wincing at the end of that scene, where he asked if Tara would be at the cermony, and give a speech. Talk about twisting the knife after Kalila had just lamented about being in her sister's shadow!

And a gripping memory/flashback of Clarissa's death. No wonder Tara is so broken up. Let alone why Kalila is so interested in Destruction and being a battlemage.

On to the next episode. I loved Tara's rationalizations at the beginning. It's those other necromancers who have to be stopped. Of course.

I loved her response to being ma'amed!

It looks like their mother is something else! Is she a pirate I wonder? The reference to her crew made me think that. And her father gets in real, physical fights with her? And she was fined by the guard! It is nice to know that while perhaps academically perfect, the Karminova's have all the dysfunctional issues of any other family. Well, not counting the necromancy of course.




nits:
It’s true that trhe Karminova family
looks like some necromancer summoned up an extra letter in your the.

I noticed that in the last post you used the term battle mage, while in the one before it you said battlemage. Just something to consider fixing up to maintain continuity of your terms.

This is stark, shocking and incredibly compelling. I love it already; you've set up a morally grey scenario that would normally make you label the person enacting it as the villain, and then you make them sympathetic to us. That's no mean feat, and I'm seriously impressed.

The best thing for me so far is Tara, for me; you've managed to capture knife-edge of nervousness determination that she's balancing on and the strain its already beginning to put on her brilliantly, and all her worries about the food and so forth for Clarissa as well as her efforts to try and bring her back are both tragic and slightly disturbing at the same time. Not to mention her attempts to justify it make for an interesting read so far, and I liked that comment about the other necromancers that you slipped in there.

Nothing really to nitpick, so all in all fantastic work, and looking forward to more.

Figuring that out could greatly help adventurers and mages clear out some of the haunted locations or caves of necromancers. The evil necromancers, she corrected herself, as she was technically a necromancer herself.

And one who is thinking about killing again, although reluctantly. I should be repelled by her, but instead I’m still fascinated.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said with a nod.

Ma’am is a fighting word!

McBadgere~ Why thank you! I don't think I've ever caused a misting of the eyes before!

mALX~ Thanks mALX ♥ Though its not as romancy as my other fic, it does get rather emotional, especially as details about Clarissa come out.

SubRosa~ Lilitu must have stopped by and planted it while you slept And nothing gets past you! Rhianna is a pirate, though she prefers the term "Sea faring adventurer."

Colonel Mustard~ Aww... -rubs back of head- With Tara, I think I have the most fun. She's not evil, but she's not doing good either. Her flaws are easy to present that way and I think that makes her just a bit more believable than some characters I've done.

Grits~ Oh yes. Even I, at the ripe age of 22 ( ) have been "ma'am-ed." I was caught way off guard by that!




Traven felt a sense of pride as he watched Kalila clutch her diploma to her chest. She kept looking around the campus, as if she didn’t believe it was real. Tara stood with her arm wrapped proudly around Kalila’s shoulders. Even as others approached the pair, students to bid farewell to Kalila and mages to greet Tara, the sisters stayed planted together. Though during the speech Tara seemed a little uneasy, now she was back to her usual self, poised and smiling brightly. Her brown eyes glittered every time she laughed, slightly throwing her head back, her hand gracefully rising under her chin. Meanwhile, Kalila looked like she would rather be anywhere else. At least until her father arrived.

The few traits that Kalila didn’t share with Tara were plainly inherited from Aidan Blackstone. His strong jaw, his deep olive complexion, the high cheekbones. His black hair was long enough to reach his shoulders and streaks of silver had started to invade, along with faint crow’s feet. The most noticeable thing about him was his clear gray eyes. Eyes exactly like Clarissa’s. Other than those eyes, he blended in perfectly with the rest of the crowd. His outfit looked like it had been carefully crafted to be just ordinary enough.

Kalila tore away from Tara momentarily to embrace Aidan tightly. Traven took the moment to approach Tara, as she was no longer hovering over her sister.

“Touching speech,� he said.

“Was it?� She asked, biting her lip slightly. “Kalila thought it was too flowery,� she said with a laugh.

“Well, it’s a flowery occasion!� Traven smiled. “Besides, Kalila’s not really one for sentiment.�

Tara glanced over to Kalila. She was holding a pendant in her hands, as Aidan draped the chain over her neck. Tara’s eyes lowered momentarily, almost disappointedly. Traven patted her shoulder. He knew it had to be a little hard for Tara to witness the father and daughter bond, as she had never known her own father. He was either dead, a one night stand, or both. Rhianna had always been tight lipped about it.

Tara looked back at Traven. “It’s fine, really.� She must have seen the pitiful look in his eyes. His cheeks burned a little. “Aidan may not be my real father, but he never treated me any different. He was always good to me.�

“There she is,� Aidan said, almost on cue. “One of the Guild’s finest!� He gave Tara a warm hug. Though it was completely paternal, nothing funny about it, Traven couldn’t help a flash of jealousy. When Aidan looked at him, he feigned a smile.

“And the man behind it all,� Aidan said, holding his hand out.

Traven shook it, overwhelmed with the scent of fresh linens. By the Nine, he always smelled like that. The man was just a little too clean. “Oh, I can’t take credit for the sheer talent these fine women have been blessed with. I can only help guide them in its use.�

Traven noticed Tara’s eyes flinch slightly.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure, Arch-mage,� Aidan said. “You’ve proven yourself an excellent teacher to my daughters.�

Traven glanced at Kalila’s new necklace. “What’s that you got there?�

Kalila lifted it so he and Tara could see it better. It was a silver pentagram with rubies at each tip, with a smaller pentagram in the center.

Kalila’s necklace

“It was my mother’s,� Aidan explained, his arm firmly planted on Kalila’s shoulder. “She always said it was special, so now I’m passing it down.�

Kalila pursed her lips together, glancing at Tara for a moment. Tara smiled. “It looks beautiful on you.�

The church bells tolled in the distance. “Well,� Tara said. “We’d best get home if we’re going to make it by nightfall.�

“Leaving so soon?� Traven said quickly. “Oh, but we’ve barely caught up. I’ll tell you what, let’s have lunch Morndas!�

Tara took a step back, starting to shake her head. “No, no, I insist!� He said. “My treat! After all, you’ve yet to tell me about this big project you’ve got going on at home!�

“Alright, sounds nice,� she said. Traven sensed some hesitation, though he was willing to chalk it up to it being a busy day. “Aidan, a pleasure as always. Kalila, I’ll be in touch of course. I do love to visit each guildhall every so often.�

Kalila nodded.

With that, Traven turned and headed to his chambers, grinning all the way.


Kalila was obviously disappointed that her father had taken his leave just after Traven did. Tara loved Aidan dearly, but he had always been so busy. Too busy for Kalila and Clarissa. His business in the Imperial City, whatever it was, kept him away for days, sometimes weeks at a time. He stayed out longer after Clarissa died. Though he claimed it was simply because Kalila had been old enough to not need him as much, Tara couldn’t help wondering if being at their home hurt too much.

“Hey, chin up,� Tara said, gently stroking Kalila’s hair as their carriage crossed the bridge to Weye. She stared at Kalila, remembering her first day at the University.

Tara was nearly done with her term. Just three more years and she would be out of there, ready to prove herself in the world of the Mages Guild. Kalila was brimming with a quiet excitement. She didn’t speak, but she chewed her nails and thumbs in anticipation. Her hair had been short, barely a bob. Kalila liked it that way. It kept it from getting in the way of fireballs.

Clarissa sat on Rhianna’s lap. Clarissa had only been there a couple of times, but she had been too young to clearly remember it. This time, she stared in awe of Lake Rumare and the beautiful white structures. The entire weekend she sat listening to Tara’s stories about the University and all the things she had learned with wide eyed excitement. “Mummy, when’s my turn?� She asked, bouncing up and down, clapping her hands. “I wanna be like Kalila and shoot fire, and breathe under water like Tara and enchant my earrings to give me super hearing.�

“You’ve got a few more years, honey.� Rhianna ran her fingers through Clarissa’s hair and adjusted the pink flower clip she always wore. “I can teach you a few of those things at home though.�

Clarissa looked at the floor sullenly. “But I wanna go with Kalila and Tara.�

Rhianna feigned hurt feelings. “And leave your mummy all alone?� She sniffled loudly and started to pout before pretending to sob in her hands.

Clarissa giggled, pulling Rhianna’s hands from her face. “You’re not alone, you have daddy!�

Rhianna let out a dry chuckle. “No thanks, I’d rather be alone.�

Kalila’s excitement dulled and Tara shot Rhianna a look. “Not now,� it plainly said.

Rhianna rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “Amazing,� she said after a while. “My three girls, going to the University. You’re all so smart. Maybe if you put your heads together, you can find out whatever happened to Corvus Umbranox!�

Tara and Kalila laughed, though the joke went over Clarissa’s head.

Clarissa wobbled over to Kalila and curled up in her lap. “Please can I go with you? Please?�

Kalila hugged her close. “One day, I promise.�

Kalila was just a girl then, barely in her teens. Now she sat before Tara a young woman. By the Nine, where did the time go? Even while at the university together, Kalila blossomed into her own person and rarely crossed Tara’s path. It only got worse after Clarissa died. Some people grieve by isolating themselves. As hard as it was for Tara to accept, it was Kalila’s way.

She turned her attention to Kalila’s hair, tied back as usual in a Breton braid. She stopped cutting it long ago and now it reached her hips. “Have you thought about cutting your hair?�

Kalila stared out the window, precariously seated on her trunk. It was overly stuffed and was threatening to burst at a moment’s notice. She only shrugged.

“Hmm..� Tara said, looking at the floor. She started wringing her hands. How horrible was it that she couldn’t even make a good conversation with her own sister? Gods, they were almost like strangers now! She bit her lip, thinking about Kalila leaving on Morndas. That only gave her two days with her until she left for Anvil, possibly forever.

Worse there was the matter of the haunting in the basement… Tara couldn’t imagine what would happen if Kalila found out. Tara balled her hands into fists. They were going to bond, dammit. And do it away from the house!

*Applauds*...

Brilliant...

Traven is making my skin crawl... ...

Nice one... ...

You're not the only 22-year-old one who's ever been "ma'am-ed!"
Great stuff here; I particularly enjoy your seamless transitions between different characters' points of view. It helps us get a better feel for their thought processes which is key in their development. Keep it comin'!

The undercurrent has become even stronger now, and the death of Clarissa a sad mystery. I have to agree with McB, Traven was giving me the creeps in this chapter too!! Awesome Write !!

So Tara and Kalila have different fathers? That is an interesting twist. The plot thickens too. Aidan has business with the Emperor? Is he a Blade I wonder?

I love the double pentacle necklace. What a brilliant idea!

I love the ending. "They were going to bond, dammit. And do it away from the house!" It is good to see that Tara's priorities are not only on the dead members of her family, but the living ones as well. The part about away from the house was just hilarious!

McBadgere~ If there's something I know, its how to pull off creepy!

RainbowVeins~ Thank you I actually worry that I do it too much, but I'm glad it comes off smoothly

mALX~ Thanks He's very different than your non-creepy Traven

SubRosa~ Yes, its Tara's yearning to bring everyone together that makes her do some of the things she does




The house was just as Kalila remembered it. The cottage sat on the path between Weye and Pell’s Gate. It was encircled by a wooden fence, with colorful flowers emerging from the lush grass. Bright welkynd stones sat in a pair of sconces by the front door. The forest draped beyond, adding a touch of shadow and mystery that had always fascinated Kalila. Lake Rumare sat in the distance, giving the home a scent of fresh water.

[url= http://i117.photobucket.com/albums/o46/Jacki_Dice/map.jpg]Map[/url]

As soon as her trunk was on the ground it hit her. No more university. No more lectures, no more tests, no more aqua robes. It was all over. She had spent so many months preparing for it and it was gone in a flash. It was dizzying.

Tara seemed strange again. She smiled the whole way back, though her attempts at small talk were failing desperately. What was with her? Kalila wasn’t sure who Tara thought she was fooling, with her constant shifts in demeanor.

After the carriage started back up the path to the Imperial City, Tara was smiling that forced smile. “Here,� she said. With a flick of her wrist, a violet beam flew from her hand to Kalila’s trunk. Tara lifted it with ease. “Let’s get this back to your room and how about we go for a swim?�

Kalila raised her eyebrows. “A swim? Now?�

“Yeah,� Tara said. She balanced the trunk on her hip as she fished for her keys. “Come on,� she hissed, biting at her lip in frustration. “Oh, wait,� she said with a laugh. Another violet flash later, the door unlocked itself.

The inside was a little more cramped than Kalila remembered it. There was the couch and armchair by the fireplace. The banners with the Mages Guild symbol hung on either side of the mantel. Paintings of the sea and beaches decorated the walls. An alchemy station was tucked behind the couch, next to the bookshelf which was brimming with books on the local and rarest flora and instruction manuals for different types of summoning. A smaller bookcase sat next to it filled with fairy tales. Kalila had loved them as a child and eventually, when she became too old for such things, she passed them along to Clarissa. Tara didn’t have the heart to throw them out.

The kitchen was spotless as always, though Kalila noticed several boxes stashed under the table. The shelves were lined with bottles of powders and spices. Just outside the window sat a box where flowers and herbs grew. They were neatly labeled, so nothing would go wrong with potion making. An apple pie sat on the kitchen table. The golden crust was braided, just as Kalila had always liked it. Three places were set. Kalila felt a stabbing pain in her heart, reminding her of who wasn’t there but should have been.

“It was for Aidan,� Tara said. Kalila didn’t notice that her hand had flown up to her heart. Tara quickly took the extra plate away and put it in the cabinet. “I thought he would be joining us.�

Kalila just nodded, her hand wandered up to her necklace. Her eyebrows furrowed as her fingers traced the center star of the pentagram. It was hot, as if she had held it under a blanket. She lowered her hand slowly. Maybe that was a normal thing for jewelry. Maybe it was just reacting to her body heat. She was never big on jewelry so she didn’t know. She looked at Tara. Tara wore earrings and a few rings. She would know about those things, but it seemed a stupid thing to ask.

Instead, she turned her attention to the basement door, which had a bar over it. Kalila hadn’t even taken a step when Tara jumped over and stood in front of the door.

“Oh, you don’t want to go down there,� she said. “I’m working on something. Something dangerous.�

Kalila took a step forward. “What?� She reached for the door knob.

“Spider daedra,� Tara blurted.

Kalila’s stomach bubbled with disgust. She flicked her wrist, as if to rid it from the very essence of the daedra. “Disgusting.� She finally said. “What in oblivion for?�

“For knowledge.�

Kalila shook her head. She should have known. Tara was one of the few people she knew who wanted to learn not for anything useful, but for the sheer sake of knowing. Had she not been raised in a Nine fearing home, she would have likely been quite at home in the worship of Hermaeus Mora.

“Right,� Kalila said. She looked to where Tara had dropped her chest. “Well, I think I’ll go put my stuff away and call it a night.�

Tara tore herself from the basement door. “But I thought we were going swimming!�

Kalila shook her head. “It’s dark,� she said. “I don’t like having to dodge slaughterfish at night when I can barely see them.�

Tara laughed. “That’s why we cast a candle spell. You know how, don’t you?�

Kalila nodded.

“It’ll be fun,� Tara said. “Please?�

“How about in the morning?� Kalila offered. “It’s been a long day.�

Tara sighed. “Alright, tomorrow. And I’ll make stuffed Breton-style toast and berries for breakfast! Isn’t that your favorite?�

When I was five, Kalila thought. “Yeah, it is. Good night.� She picked up her chest and headed up the stairs.

“Good night, Kalila!� She said. Tara glanced at the basement door. She pressed her lips to the wood. “Good night, Clarissa,� she whispered.



Under the glow of moonlight, Kalila snuck out and sat at Clarissa’s grave.

It was set in the corner of the property, tucked away in the back by the fence. A stone statue of Mara marked the spot. Mara stood with a veil over her head, gazing gently down where Clarissa was. She held a flower in one hand. A lily. Clarissa’s favorite. A small bunch of peonies burst from the side where she was buried.

Shortly after her death, Kalila had gotten into the habit of sitting at the grave and speaking to Clarissa. Though Tara tried to discourage it, the habit persisted throughout the years.

“I graduated today,� Kalila said softly. Already her throat started to close up and she felt the burn of tears forming. She choked. “I’ll be leaving for Anvil in a few days. It’s not exactly what I had planned, but I suppose…� She sighed. “Nothing lives up to our plans, does it? They say I need more practice in restoration. I guess they’re right. That way if I ever come across…� She licked her lips.

If I ever come across someone hurting, I can help. I won’t be too late.

Tears fell silently.

“You should have been there,� she said. “That’s how it was supposed to be. You, me, and Tara.� She started sobbing. “It’s not fair.� She pounded her fist on the ground. “It’s just not fair! Why did it have to be you?� She buried her face in her arms. “Why?� She demanded. “Why, damn it?� She hit the ground once more and then stopped crying. She wiped her eyes with one hand and ran her fingers through the dirt with the other.

Why was the dirt so loose?



Tara woke slowly. Though she was tucked under several quilts, she felt a persistent chill. It was almost as if someone had left the window open during a snowfall.

“You sleep rather soundly for a murderer.� An icy, unfamiliar voice said. “That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.� A man was standing at the foot of her bed, draped in a black cloak. His features were obscured by his hood.

Tara jumped up and reached for the dagger she kept between the bed and the nightstand. The man raised his hand and suddenly Tara was unable to move.

Dear gods, not again!

“Who are you?� She hissed. She looked toward the bedroom door. It was not torn open. Her window wasn’t broken. The only sounds were the two of them. “Where’s Kalila?� Tara clenched her teeth. “If you’ve harmed her—“

“Easy, easy dear child,� he said. He sat next to her, stroking her hair. His hands were like ice. Tara winced at his touch. “The girl remains in her bed, sleeping peacefully. I am not here to harm either of you. Rather, I’ve come to offer you an opportunity.�

“What do you want?�

“First, an introduction.� He stood up. “I am Lucien Lachance, Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood.�

“The…� Tara’s tongue suddenly felt like it was buried in sand. Dear gods, he’s come to kill me… Her stomach fluttered.

Lucien continued. “And you, you are a cold-blooded killer, capable of taking life without mercy or remorse.�

Then it dawned on her. The whispers of The Dark Brotherhood coming to recruit murderers was true! And the girl… somehow they knew about the girl in the Marketplace.

“The Night Mother has been watching, and she is most pleased. And so, here I am. I come to you with an offering. An opportunity... to join our rather unique family."

Tara couldn’t believe her ears. “I.. I’m not a murderer,� she said softly.

Lucien tilted his head back, in exaggerated surprise. “Oh?� Tara could see a smirk under his hood. “The Night Mother seems to think otherwise. Allow me to grant you a gift, in case you reconsider. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood."

He set a dagger on her nightstand. It was made of ebony, with a beautiful intricate gold design on the handle and its sheath. Three prongs sprouted from the back of the handle. Tara could only imagine its purpose.

His gift

“Why are you giving me this?� She asked.

“On the Green Road to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. 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."

With that he disappeared before her eyes. She was able to move again. She jumped out of her bed and snatched her own dagger, casting a detect life spell. The only things she sensed were Kalila, in her bed and the pacing of Clarissa in the basement. She noticed that her room was once again warm and cozy.

She got back under her quilts and stared at the dagger she was given. She knew that in a month’s time she would have to kill again. She hated herself for thinking it, but perhaps this Rufio could be of some assistance.

*Runs around the room remonstrating with the furniture*...Dammit dammit dammit!!...How many times must I kill him before he stays dead!!????!?!??!?...

...

Sorry...

So, Lucien LePonce noticed then?... ...

Exellent chapter...From all the "big sister" stuff, to the heartbreaking stuff by the grave...Brilliance...

Nice one!... ...

Jacki, as grotesque as the subject matter is in this story - I have to say it is your best write ever, and that is saying a lot since your others were stuffed with brilliant characters.

This story is totally riveting and intrigueing (in spite of my stomach churning throughout, lol) - but seriously, it is a huge glimpse into how creative your imagination is. I have re-read it from the beginning again to put the characters in context and was floored by what you are doing with this story! Totally awesome write, absolutely huge!!!

Tara's house sounds wonderful. Cozy, and an excellent reflection of the person living there. The fairy tale books were a nice touch, reminding us about the sister who is not longer there. At least not the way she used to be.

Loved Tara's reaction to Kalila just looking at the basement door. Overract much! Still, she explained things away very nicely with the spider daedra. Now Kalila is not going to want to go down there, and will discount any strange sounds from the basement as well.

When I was five, Kalila thought.
Ouch! Isn't that always the case? Still, it is nice to see how hard Tara is trying to win Kalila over, and renew their relationship.

Why was the dirt so loose?
Uh oh...

Lucien LaCroix LaChance! I did not see that coming. But in retrospect, it seems quite obvious. Well done. I loved how you portrayed him. I also loved the way Tara is seriously considering his offer. After all, Clarissa is going to need fresh souls soon, isn't she?

Why was the dirt so loose?

This grisly detail after the snug kitchen was especially chilling. Tara has the table neatly set and an ambulatory corpse in the basement.

I loved the scene with LL. So many killers would be tempted by the new loving family, but Tara loves her family so much she needs to kill. Like mALX said, riveting!

Got to say, juxtaposition of the normal and the disturbing in this piece is something that you're currently doing, really, really well. The main highlight of the last two chapters was with the kitchen scene, when you had the rather homely atmosphere clashing with the horror lurking in the basement, but even stuff like the graduation scene being marred by Traven's rather creepy tendencies was another good example. Even the jump of POV between Tara and Kalila was a nice touch, with Tara trying to make Kalila think everything is normal and Kalila immediately spotting that something was amiss.

And now Kalila finds the grave dirt is loose. Oh dear...

McBadgere~ Thank you

mALX~ Aww thank you! Hopefully this gets better and better as I continue ♥

SubRosa~ She's good at explaining away, but can she keep up with all the lies?

Grits~ It's almost like the Stepford wives. So nice and pretty outside but once you get to the bottom of it, not so much....

Colonel Mustard~ Lol! Oh what have I done to poor Arch Mage Traven? And Tara really shouldn't underestimate Kalila's ability to pick things up!




Kalila awoke to clattering in the kitchen. Warm golden rays peeked through the floral curtains. Kalila’s eyes glided over the room. Tara had left it untouched while she was away. A painting of a pirate ship was to her immediate left, over the bed. A desk was across the room, piled high with spell books. A few homemade scrolls were wrapped in a pile. Her bookshelf by the door had few books, as most had gone to the University with her. Instead it held mostly small mementos from her childhood. A stuffed bear ratted and torn from years of being carried all over, a porcelain doll dressed in a bold red dress and a flower in her hair, a little jewelry box with the name of her mother’s ship, Sedna’s Mercy engraved in fancy lettering across the front. Another box stored all the letters she had received from both of her parents as they traveled all over Tamriel. Her chest was left unpacked in the corner.

She had a hard time sleeping, though her own bed was a lot warmer and softer than the one at the university. First there was the unexplainable chill in the middle of the night that neither more blankets nor a small fire fueled by old school notes in an urn could soothe. Then there was the shuffling coming from the basement. Dear gods, that awful shuffling. Kalila could just imagine the hordes of spider daedra, their awful legs scuttling about, their wide mouths set in an eternal scream and those eyes. They all had eyes that were like looking into a pit of darkness so cold it could burn. It was the one daedra that Kalila simply couldn’t tolerate.

She stared up at the ceiling pondering the third thing that kept her from a restful sleep: the loose dirt on Clarissa’s grave. She had heard plenty of tales of grave robbing vampires looking to add more to their thrall. As much as she tried, she couldn’t wipe the image from her mind. No doubt Tara had been too busy with her work to notice.

As the scent of bacon arose to her bedroom, Kalila decided to drag herself out from under the thick quilts and into the bath before heading down to breakfast.



Tara hummed happily as she laid a plate of bacon on the table. It was a breakfast fit for a queen: bacon, scrambled eggs, bagels, sausage links, pancakes, stuffed Breton toast, Kalila’s favorite, fresh orange juice and milk. She clasped her hands together and grinned. This was going to be the start of a perfect day.

Kalila came down the stairs, her hair dripping wet and not yet braided. Tara gasped. There was just so much of it! “Good morning!” Tara chirped. She pulled out one of the chairs and beckoned for Kalila to sit down. She could tell Kalila was surprised by the amount of food set before them.

“So,” Tara said, piling food onto Kalila’s plate. “I was thinking that today we’d go for a swim and then we’ll visit the Marketplace and go shopping!”

“Alright,” Kalila said with a shrug. “For what?”

Tara set Kalila’s plate down and started on her own. “Just shopping.”

Kalila just blinked and turned her attention to her plate, piling eggs onto her bagel and topping it with her sausage.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asked. “Don’t you like shopping?”

Kalila shrugged. After swallowing her first bite, she said, “It’s alright.”

Tara raised her eyebrows. “Alright? Oh, Kalila, what sort of woman doesn’t like to go shopping?”

“I never said I don’t like it, it’s just…” She paused. There was a soft thumping in the basement. Kalila put her bagel down, her lips quivering in disgust.

Tara bit down of her own lip, her eyes trailing to the floor.

“Can’t you send those things back to where they came from? And leave them there?”

Tara let out a bleat like laugh. “Too much has been put into… what I’m doing.”

“It’s disgusting!”

Tara shut her eyes tightly. If only she knew what she was really talking about. “Just ignore it.”

The thumping continued, getting louder each time. “Here,” Tara said. “You eat up and I’ll go see what’s going on.”

She took a gulp of orange juice, wishing it were laced with vodka, and rushed down to the basement, locking it behind her.

It took her a second for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Clarissa,” she whispered. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

She stumbled for a moment on a doll. She picked it up and turned her attention to Clarissa, who was sprawled out on the floor. Tara gasped in horror. Somehow, Clarissa had broken her leg off and was hitting the floor with it. Tara snatched it away.

“No! You don’t hit the floor…with…” She glanced at it. “Your severed limb.” She sighed and took a seat on the floor. With a flick of her wrist a blooming light rose from her fingertips and hovered above her. She took a look at the leg, seemingly amputated at the knee. Ordinarily it could be salvaged with a few potions and an agonizing night of the bones reattaching themselves. Alas, Clarissa was not quite ordinary. Not yet anyway. Her leg would need to be bound together for the time being, at least until she developed flesh.

“Damn,” she muttered. If she were alone, it would be a simple matter of running upstairs and grabbing some leather straps. However, with Kalila home there was the risk of being seen. After all, as repulsed as the thought of the spider daedra was to her, there was always that morbid curiosity that would beckon her to look.

She looked at her clothes. Granted she had plenty of aprons to spare, but the fiber wouldn’t be strong enough to hold bone together if Clarissa continued to walk around. There was the option of attaching her to the wall, preventing any movement, but it didn’t seem right. Clarissa shouldn’t be bound like a dangerous prisoner.

“Stay right here,” she said to Clarissa. “Kalila!”

“I am not going down there!”

“I just need you to bring me some leather straps! I should have some balled up in the center drawer in the kitchen. I’ll stick my hand out and you can just give them to me.”

There was a pause then the scraping of the chair being backed up and a rustling. Tara sighed in relief. She headed up the steps and opened the door so only her arm would fit through. Within moments a wad of leather was plopped in her hand. “Thank you!”

She shut the door quickly and locked it.

“Now,” Tara said to Clarissa. “I’m going to reattach this, so don’t rip it out or anything.” She tied the tibia and fibula together at the top and looped the strap behind her knee cap and around the bottom of her femur. She tied a few around each strap just to be safe. She then helped Clarissa to her feet and watched her walk for a little bit. She seemed to have a little trouble with her strapped leg, but Tara knew she would have to fix it later.

“Now, I need you to be a little quieter, alright? I’ll be back when I can. I love you.”

When she came back out of the basement, she was startled to see Kalila standing right in front of her. “I love you?” She asked.

“I love you too,” Tara said with a laugh as she headed back to the table.

“No, I heard you say that to one of the spider daedra.”

Tara shrugged. “I love all my subjects,” she said, taking her seat.

Kalila just shook her head. She sat back down and they ate in silence for a moment. Damn, damn, damn!” Tara thought. This is not how it’s supposed to be!

“What was the leather for?”

Tara shot up, her eyebrows raised. “Oh, the leather? One of the spiders broke her leg.”

Kalila set her bagel back down and folded her hands under her chin. “What, a daedra broke its leg and you use leather to fix it?”

“That’s right.”

Kalila shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense! First of all, they're daedra! They don’t break legs!”

“These ones do. There aren’t ordinary spider daedra--"

“And you’re covered in filth!”

Tara looked down at herself. “Oh my,” she said. Kalila was right. Her clothes were covered in dirt and dust…and possibly a few flakes of what little remained of Clarissa’s skin. “I had no idea the basement was that dirty!”

Kalila folded her arms. Tara wanted to squirm under the hard stare, but she continued picking at her plate.

“Speaking of dirt,” Kalila said after awhile. “The dirt on Clarissa’s grave is loose.”

Tara choked. “What?”

Kalila nodded. “Has anyone been around here?”

Tara waved her hand. “Oh, that was my doing.”

Kalila’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I wanted to see if flowers would grow. You know how much she loved them. I had to loosen the dirt to plant the seeds, but they wouldn’t take. It might just be the wrong season for them.”

Kalila’s stare softened and she resumed her breakfast in silence.

Tara sighed. Already it was quite a start to her “perfect day.”

Chilling paragraph, and another glimpse into Tara as she had to know those Spider Daedra were Kalila's greatest fear.

Jacki, reading this story is like watching a very well done horror movie - that is how well you have written this. Awesome, Riveting Write !!!

Dear gods, that awful shuffling. Kalila could just imagine the hordes of spider daedra, their awful legs scuttling about, their wide mouths set in an eternal scream and those eyes. They all had eyes that were like looking into a pit of darkness so cold it could burn. It was the one daedra that Kalila simply couldn’t tolerate.

Good grief! Now I’m afraid of them!!

She took a gulp of orange juice, wishing it were laced with vodka, and rushed down to the basement, locking it behind her.

Yep, that’s how fast those ‘perfect’ days can turn around. There’s so much about Tara that is easy to relate to. Until you get down to the basement.

It sounds like it was not a very good night for Kalila. Her musings on the spider daedra in the basement were wonderful, in an unpleasant kind of way of course. The part about the mouths open in eternal screams, and eyes that were cold pits of darkness, were excellent touches. I suspect that Tara knows her revulsion to spider daedra, and that is why she chose them for her cover story.

I loved Clarissa in the basement, playing with her severed leg! Who ever thought keeping a zombie would be so much trouble! And all the time Tara had Kalila right up the stairs. Yikes! That was a close one.

*Phew* she dodged two more arrows with the "I love you," remark, and the loose dirt on Clarissa's grave. Tara is really taking chances with Kalila being there. But it makes for lots of fun reading! The entire thing is almost comical, when you look at it a certain way. Sort of like Weekend at Bernies.



nits:
Somehow, Clarissa had broken her leg and was hitting the floor with it.
I think you might want to say broken her leg off. At first I was a little confused, because I thought it was just broken, not dismembered.

I've got to say, the sense of creeping dread that this is all going to come crashing down absolutely spectacularly that you've managed to imbue into this chapter here is awe-inspiring (the sense of dread, I mean. Chapter itself isn't awe-inspiring, and I mean that in a good way; it shouldn't be, it's supposed to be tense).

Also, think I worded the Traven thing badly; I meant more Tara perceiving him as creepy than he himself actually being creepy.

Traven is creepy...*Shudders*... ...

Aaamywho...Excellent chapter...

Like has been said, the feeling of everything about to be discovered is excellently done...I know it's probably going to be a bit longer before Clarissa's found, but blimey there's been some close calls already... ...

Nice one!!... ...

This story has become one of my early favorites on the Forums. Well done!

mALX~ Oh thanks so much! I'm glad to know that the countless horror movie/book marathons have paid off

Grits~ Bleh! The spider daedra are pretty horrible. I think if I were Kalila, even with all the great destructive powers, a spider daedra would turn me into a baby hiding in the closet!

SubRosa~ That's pretty much what I was going for with that chapter and a few more to come

Colonel Mustard~ Ahhh... well, he has gotten creepy and well.... it's only just begun as far as Traven goes

McBadgere~ Isn't that always how it goes whenever you try and hide something big, it's just one teensy step away from getting found out?

Tallius~ Awesome! I'm sorry I haven't posted anything in ages. It's been a pretty busy couple months



Tara tried not to cry as the carriage for Kalila drew up the path Sundas night. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back as much as she could.

She couldn’t tell how Kalila was feeling. She sat on her trunk, playing with the end of her braid.

“Do you have everything?” Tara asked, forcing her voice to keep from cracking. She cleared her throat. “All your new clothes and books and stuff?”

Kalila nodded.

As the galloping drew closer, Kalila stood up and opened the door. The horseman came in and took Kalila’s trunk. Tara walked slowly with Kalila. Several other people were in the carriage. Some must have known Kalila, because they waved happily.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Tara said, looking at the ground. “You’ll be great.”

Kalila nodded.

“Just be careful. And please write to me if you need anything. Or if you don’t need anything. Just…” She sighed. “I’ll come visit you when I can, I promise.”

Kalila smiled at Tara and gave her a tight hug. Tara gasped for a moment, before burying her face in Kalila’s braid. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she said.

“I’ll miss you too,” Kalila said softly. “Once I’m better at healing, I’ll be back in the Imperial City for battlemage training. I don’t think it’ll take too long.”

Kalila released Tara, holding her hand for a moment before stepping into the carriage. Tara stood and watched it set off until she could no longer see it.

Once Kalila was out of sight, she allowed the flood to come. She ran to the couch, holding one of the cushions tightly as she cried. She wasn’t even sure why she was reacting so emotionally. She knew it was coming and it wasn’t as if Kalila was off to the Summerset Isles or Morrowind. It was just to Anvil.

She sniffed hard, trying to regain composure. She wiped her tears away and stared blankly out the window. “No reason to cry,” she said to herself. Still, she felt a dull pain in her chest. Her eyes weren’t producing any tears, but she felt like she might start bawling in a moment.

She stood up and looked around the house. There was nothing to clean. She frowned. She remembered years ago, whenever there was a mess she was more than happy to clean it. It gave her time to stop working, but keep thinking.

Tara went upstairs and sat on her bed, holding her head in her hands. She sighed deeply, her eyes trailing to the blade left on her nightstand by that Dark Brotherhood assassin. Her first instinct was disgust. She wanted to bury it in the backyard and pretend the assassin, Lucien, was just a bad dream. But she knew better.

Even worse, he knew what she did. He might even know more. Who knew if he had wandered the house, looking for blackmail. Tara bit her lip. And Clarissa did need more souls. A lot more. She laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. What she would give just to have someone to advise her on what to do.

Her leg.

Tara sat back up, only just remembering Clarissa’s detached leg and the trouble she had walking. She would have to fix that. She ran downstairs to the kitchen and pulled out a ball of twine and a pair of scissors. She hesitated before grabbing some wire as well.

She opened the basement door. Clarissa was sitting on the floor. As soon as Tara crossed the thresh hold, Clarissa began to crackle for a moment. Tara narrowed her eyes a little. That had to be how she tracked movement. Tara glanced back up the stairs. This was something she just had to record!

“Clarissa, I need to see your leg.”

Clarissa remained still. Tara sighed. She couldn’t wait until Clarissa would have the capacity to understand her.

She sat next to Clarissa and reached for her leg. Just a week ago the very thought would have made her sick to her stomach. Now it seemed no different than wiping a child’s skinned knee.

She loosened the leather strap and Clarissa’s leg fell right off. She didn’t even seem to notice. Tara sighed. “And just how did this happen, anyway?” She tsked. Tara took wire and looped it through the bones in her leg. “Now,” she said, taking Clarissa’s hands and having her stand up. “Walk with me for a second.”

She guided Clarissa, noticing that while she still had a bit of trouble, it was nowhere near as bad as it was with the leather. “Good,” Tara said. “Now, just to reinforce it…” She knelt down and tied the twine around her leg and knee. “I guess we’ll have to leave it like that until you can heal proper.” She said, brushing her hands on her skirt. She hesitated for a moment. “In fact, while I’m here…”

Tara lifted the steel collar around Clarissa’s neck, looking at the wire that held her neck in place with her spine. The sight of the broken bones caused a lump to rise in her throat.

Tara couldn’t tell if Clarissa was already dead. She could barely tell if she herself was even alive. All she saw was that man, that monster, that coward strangling the poor girl with a noose. Once it was firm around Clarissa’s neck, he threw the other end of the rope over the stair case. With an audible snap! the rope went taut and Clarissa’s body swung. Tara wanted to scream. She felt it build up inside her, but she didn’t have the strength. Though she held her stomach tight, she still gushed blood. Everything was going black.

Tara shook her head. “But we won,” she whispered. “You’re alive now.”

With that image melting from her thoughts, she made up her mind. “I’m going to be leaving in a few days,” she said. “I need to go to the Inn of Ill Omen and find a man named Rufio.”

*Winces*...

I have missed this... ...

Love it, it's creepy and yet utterly compelling, I'm desperate to know what happens to Clarissa...And that picture of her is just the sweetest thing ever!... ...Awwww, bless her!...

Tara is deliciously complicated. Her descent into darkness is really well done, and again, dying to know what'll happen when everybody finds out... ...

Talking of Tara...Those pictures...Ooof!!... ...Nicely done there... ...

Brilliant story, loving it...

Nice one!!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

That photo of Clarissa is so weirdly compelling. It’s her “before” picture.

I thought that Tara’s flashback was brilliantly done. Tara just gets more fascinating.

At once extremely creepy, and yet also deeply moving. I love reading this story. Tara is such a wonderful character, so full of emotion, that we cannot help but to feel sympathy for her. In spite of what she is doing.

I agree with Grits about the pictures. The first two are "oh neat", then the one of Clarissa is like a sledgehammer to the noggin.

Those pictures have really added a whole dimension to the story all on their own !!

I absolutely love this story, it shows a whole other facet of you as a writer and I'm tickled you are finally updating it again.

I'm so sorry it is taking so long to get to read this, I just haven't had time yet, Jacki - but you know I will, just having a very tough and hectic time here, lol.


"I'll be back" (said in Arnold's voice) <3




** Edit: Holy cow, what a chapter! Tara's mind fluctuations in this reveal a lot of her mental state, but also her genius and determination. Horror, yes - but also the touch of mad scientist that will do whatever it takes to achieve their goal. Now Rufio - can't wait to see what is going to happen next !!!

You are def exceeding your own self with this story, it takes your writing to a whole new realm - it takes the world of Tamriel to a new place where nothing can be expected or known except the place. I am totally loving this story and your absolute brilliant mind and talent in writing this !!!

McBadgere~ I miss writing it! Boo to work and writers block and lethargy!

Grits~ Thank you I like the pic myself. I think I'll put one for each stage of her revival.

SubRosa~ I'm glad that I'm accomplishing what I meant to do with Tara

mALX~ Thanks mALX! As much as I will always have plenty of love for Wrothken's story, this one is my favorite to write. This sort of thing has always been just my style.






Morndas, 26th of First Seed, 3E431

This will be my only chance to produce any sort of study on this subject. I have grappled with the decision to put this in writing since the idea first popped into my head, but I have decided that I simply cannot throw this opportunity away.

The patient (who shall remain nameless for her and my own safety) was revived in a way that is not common to necromancers. She will not be my thrall or a guard. I brought her back because she was stolen away much too soon. I possess the power to bring her back to me and, as my mother often says about people’s talent, use it or lose it.

Most necromancers would be content with one soul used as they don’t intend to bring their victims back to full flesh and blood as I do. According to my research, she will require thirteen souls and the spell needs to be performed when Masser and Secunda are in their “new” cycles.

I dug up her grave last week and revived her to be animated. She’d been dead for so long that her body was reduced to mostly bone and the odd patch of skin. Her internal organs, including her eyes, have long ago decayed. Upon revival, she showed no signs of aggression. Possible bewilderment. I cannot read her as we have no way to communicate. I do speak to her daily. I plan to read her a bedtime story each night when life settles down a bit. I feel that it will be beneficial for her to go through this complex process hearing my voice constantly. I’m not sure if she even remembers who I am. If she does, then there is no doubt that she will be soothed.

She makes no sound except for a steady crackling. I believe that it is a form of echolocation. She mimics my movements while she makes the sound. I have yet to discover where exactly the noise comes from.

I do believe that she is unable to feel pain at this moment. She somehow managed to break her leg off at the knee. She sat there, using it to smack the floor. After I had time to think, as this has been quite the long weekend, I began to wonder if she was using the sound to help her “see.” It was considerably louder than the crackle she makes. Of course I didn’t leave her the way she was. I reattached her leg with some leather straps and later, when I had the time, I wired it in place. Her skull is also wired to her spine. That was the injury that killed her in the first place. At the time of her murder, there were other assaults… I am not sure whether or not they will have a psychological impact on her when she is fully revived.

This will be a long and strenuous procedure, but I can’t stop now. I can’t stop until she’s been returned to me.



“Dammit!” Tara awoke with a swear. She looked out her bedroom window to see the sun shining brightly. She had stayed up so late writing that she forgot about lunch with the Arch Mage. She groaned as she pulled her robe off and searched in her wardrobe for something nice.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” She muttered, holding up a violet dress to her neck and looking in the mirror. “I guess,” she said, changing into it. It was nothing too fancy. The sleeves were short with silver swirl designs. The skirt was pleated and brushed against the top of her ankles.

She lifted the skirt and got on her knees, searching for a pair of matching shoes. Something that hopefully wasn’t caked with dirt. Her silver ones were a little too dressy for a simple lunch. Instead she picked a pair of lavender ones.

She wasn’t sure how late it was, so she skipped a bath. Instead she pulled her hair up and rubbed a lightly scented lotion on her neck and arms.

“Clarissa!” She called to the basement on her way out. “I forgot I promised to have lunch with the Arch Mage! I’ll be back shortly.”

She picked up her skirt and ran to the edge of Lake Rumare, pausing only to cast a water walking spell. Though she was only jogging on the lake at a slow pace, she was surprised at how quickly she started to feel winded. She bit her lip, remembering when she and Kalila took the same short cut to the Imperial City. Kalila was able to keep the same pace without breaking a sweat!

She only slipped a couple times when the spell started to wear off. By time she made it to the waterfront her shoes were soaked. “Dammit!” She hissed. “What are you looking at?” She snapped at a passerby as she wrung the water from her slippers.


The table was set beautifully with a white linen cloth and polished silverware. The grass was such a rich green and the flowers that bloomed were all bright and fragrant. It was a beautiful day for a lunch outside. As the sundial slowly moved past two, Arch Mage Traven began to worry. Tara was never late. He glanced down at the table, neatly set for two, and he started to rap his spoon against the table. He frowned at the table. He was sure that she knew where to meet him. He was a man of habit and on warm days, he always had lunch in the Mages Garden. His stomach knotted even against his demands that it cease. He sneered at himself in disgust. He was acting like a boy forty years his junior, for the gods’ sakes!

He started to calm down as he began to stroll around the small garden. It would be a simple lunch; just tea and crepes. He wanted to know all about the project that had her away from the guild halls. Just a simple business lunch.

At least that’s what he told himself until she showed up.

She looked like she ran all the way there. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a light beading of sweat along her hairline. The bottom of her skirt was damp. Surely she didn’t run across the lake! That would put her right through the Waterfront. He couldn’t help wrinkling his nose at the very idea of her walking around that slum. She was lucky that she made it without getting assaulted or worse.

Tara managed a smile despite her tired appearance.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, approaching him as she pulled her hair from her face. “I was up all night with my research.”

Traven shook his head, pulling her seat out and inviting her to sit with him. “Not at all, Tara. In fact, I’d love to hear about what it is that you’re up to.” He poured her a cup of tea. He already knew how she took it. He then placed a crepe on her plate and one on his own.

“Spider daedra,” she said. “I’m studying their silk.”

Traven frowned. “Sounds dangerous.” He sipped his tea. “What is it you hope to find out?”

Tara’s eyes lit up. This always happened when she was starting a new project. It sent Traven’s heart to a flutter. “We know about spider silk made from spiders in other provinces. Some of them have natural properties that can be drawn out and manipulated when made into clothing. So what about that of the spider daedra?” She paused to try her crepe. She smiled as she chewed it, her eyes closing as she savored it. “That’s amazing. Anyway, so what we know about daedra silk is that it’s very heavy. In fact what is really about a pound of silk feels like it’s twice that. We also know that when mixed into certain potions, it can help you see at night.” She took another bite. “But what I’m starting to notice it that if you combine just the right about radishes, it can create a chameleon effect.”

Traven choked on his tea. “Radishes?”

Tara nodded. “I discovered it by accident when I was cooking.”

Traven looked into his tea cup. “Ah…” He paused. “It must get lonely for you.”

“Hmmm?”

Traven looked up to see Tara’s eyebrows raised. He silently kicked himself. That was supposed to stay in his head. “Well,” he said after a sip. “I mean you’re back at your house doing all this alone. You were staying at the Skingrad Guild for so long and to wind up back all by yourself… I mean, you’re not even in a city anymore.”

Tara smiled a little. “It’s fine. Someone has to watch over it now that Kalila won’t be coming back every weekend.” She paused, sighing a little. “It’s so strange. Sometimes I still expect for her to come home excited about something new she’s learned or with questions about her homework. I just can’t believe she’s all grown up now.”

Traven laughed a little, glad that his slip had gone by without incident. “You’ll always think of her as your kid sister. There’s nothing wrong with that. There are some student that I’ve watched grow up and then I just sit back amazed at how time has gone by… all these years…”

He looked up at Tara, slightly disturbed at what he was realizing. He had graduated nearly a decade before her mother should have. He was still studying at the Mages Guild when Tara was born. He had known her that long… He looked away, suddenly feeling a little queasy.

“Is everything alright?”

He looked back at Tara and suddenly his sickness vanished. He just couldn’t help what he felt when he looked into those brown eyes.

“Fine, fine… I was just remembering the days of my youth.” He sighed wistfully. He noticed that she had finished eating and was looking slightly fidgety. He frowned a little. “Well, it seems I’ve kept you long enough. I do hope that you will come back soon for another chat.”

Tara got up quickly. A little too quickly for Traven’s liking. “I will. Thanks for lunch.” She smiled and he saw that it was genuine. Why was she in such a hurry to leave?


Tara felt bad. She could tell that the Arch Mage noticed her rushing. She saw it in his eyes. She didn’t mean to, but she was on a deadline. Who knew if Rufio would remain where he was supposed to?

The trip to The Inn of Ill Omen was going to take a while. She sighed, casting the water walking spell on herself as she stood on the banks at the Waterfront. At least it would put her ahead of schedule. That would give her time for some actual work.

Oh, you have much sympathy, I know all about work and lethargy... ...

Traven makes my skin crawl...He really does... ...Brilliantly done that...

Wonderfully done that picnic...Traven was far too eager to...Connect...And Tara was far too eager to get away, this is a bad combination as it'll probably just inflame Traven's purely professional desires even more... ...

Brillliant chapter...Brilliantly done...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

The journal was a good way of bringing us back up to speed with where things are. Plus I believe there were a few new tidbits. 13 souls, and it has to be competed when both moons are new. Excellent choice on the new moon btw. It is a time after the death of the old, yet before the birth of the new. A time when all things are possible.

I lovee Tara's frantic dash across Lake Rumare! It takes waterwalking magic so for granted, but that is exactly how a magician like Tara would be.

So radishes and spider silk is it? In wonder how much of that was pure b.s. she made up on the spot? Probably all of it I suppose. Still, she dodged the Arch-Mage, at least for now.

Poor Traven too. From the outside he is just a creepy old man. But when you see things from his point of view, you see he does not really grasp how hard he has fallen for Tara. Though he at least does realize how much older than her he is now. I wonder if that will cause him to back off some now?

Tara’s detached tone in her scholarly writing made the subject somehow more chilling. All of the little details here like the wet hem and scented lotion make her such a vivid, living character. Someone I feel I might know. Someone who needs twelve more souls.

*



Lol, I wonder if Traven's infatuation will live past finding out she is a necromancer, lol. (It surpassed him realizng he was robbing the cradle, so it may live on in spite of Tara's activities. After all, she has a good cause).

Another wonderfully creepy write - you are in your element with the dark side, Jackie !!

You are a very talented writer. I must say the first chapter of your story was intruging. Stealth, death and undeath. Makes for a very gritty story and a truly dark tale which has my buzzing about as a fly to fire. I will have to catch up to the other chapters. But I am definetly reading this!

McBadgere~ I think Traven is one of the easiest for me to do.. simply because I wind up meeting people who make me feel exactly like that! And for the most part, I'm sure they don't mean to, but I'm very paranoid... >.>

SubRosa~ I think the thing I like best about this one over Madness, is getting to add what I know about magic and insert it here to build it beyond mysticism used in the game

Grits~ The journal was inspired by this song. The first time I heard it, I just stopped what I was doing, and proceeded to listen over and over. Its just too perfect! SO the journal will be an ongoing thing throughout

mALX~ Aww thanks mALX As much as I love Madness (and promise that it hasn't been abandoned!) this truly feels better to write.

Lycanthropic Legend~ Aww thanks! Its always nice to have a new reader I hope you continue to enjoy it!






Thirteen soul gems had been prepared in advance. Tara had one slipped in her skirt. She ran her finger down the facets as she walked down the path to the Inn of Ill Omen. What a name, she thought. It made her all the more nervous to set foot there for fear that something would go horribly wrong.

The inn was just down the street from another. In comparison, the Inn of Ill Omen had doomed itself, likely due to its name. The other inn was brightly lit and even from the distance, Tara could smell the savory food cooking inside. Her stomach complained loudly. Night had long since fallen and she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

She placed her hand on the door, but pulled away quickly. If there was only a handful of people there, or worse, just Rufio, then she would be instantly named as the killer. Though she would give a false name if needed, there was still the lack of an alibi. If she were named as a suspect and her house searched… She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at the very thought of others discovering Clarissa. Her name would be ruined. All she worked for would be for nothing.

Tara walked around the inn, noticing windows at the ground. If it was similar to her own house, the windows would lead to a cellar. She knelt down. It was large enough for her to slide into. A dim light shone through the filthy glass. It was a chance, but a better one than storming the door.

She used the dagger given to her by the assassin to break it. She hoped that whoever was upstairs wouldn’t hear it. She crawled down on the ground, overwhelmed with the fertile smell of dirt. It only reminded her of digging up graves.

She slipped into what seemed to be a modest bedroom. She landed on a ratty bed with a tattered blanket on it. A worn dresser sat next to it. A leather bound book was a top it.

Tara sat on the bed for a moment, her stomach starting to twist at what she was about to do. She buried her face in her hands, trying to calm herself down. How was it that other people could kill without a thought, yet it rendered her sick? She never in a thousand years would have expected to wish for that apathy toward another person’s life, yet here she was.

A shuffling caught her attention. She stood up, straightening her skirt, as if she were expecting someone important. She held the dagger behind her back, biting the corner of her lip. The side of her stomach felt like a thousand spiders were nesting inside. Her hands started to feel numb. She wanted to cry.

A man opened the door, jumping a little when he saw Tara. He was considerably older than her. Definitely old enough to be her father, perhaps maybe her grandfather. He looked her up and down suspiciously. “Who in Oblivion are you?” He asked.

Tara couldn’t speak. She couldn’t find the words. Besides, what was she supposed to say? Hello, I’m Tara and I hope you’ve lived well because tonight’s your last!

She didn’t notice her hand drift out from behind her, the dagger gleaming in the candlelight. He did. "No,” he hissed. He must have known that someone would be coming for him, because he fell to his knees, gripping Tara’s skirt. “Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I... I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!"

By time Tara realized what he just said, she felt like a thick grease glazed over the spiders in her gut. “By the gods…” She whispered, taking a step back. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so bad.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said again. “Do you understand me!” He got up, trembling violently. His eyes were bulging out of his head. “She made me do it! Dammit, you can’t punish me for that!” He took a step toward Tara, grabbing her shoulders. “It wasn’t my fault!” He screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

“Let go of me,” she said.

“All you wenches are alike!” He said through clenched teeth. For an old man, he had a tight grip. His hands travelled down to her arms, holding her tightly. “And now you, you come into my room and you think you’re going to kill me? Huh?” He threw her to the ground. The dagger skittered across the floor, under his bed. “You stupid, little tramp!”

Tara turned and with a wave of her hand, he was bathed in the purple glow or a soul trap spell. She crawled toward the dagger, but he grabbed her ankle and drug her toward him. She wanted to scream, but she knew that if she did, it was all over. As long as he was touching her, she couldn’t cast a shock spell.

There was a bowl on the floor. She grabbed it and threw it at him. It hit him in the face, making him lose his grasp for a moment. Tara took the opportunity to dash under the bed and grab the dagger. She had to hurry before the soul trap wore off. She hated to waste magicka.

She stood up and the moment he lunged for her, she held the blade out. He ran right into it. He froze, clutching the gaping wound in his gut. Tara closed her eyes. She thought she would take pleasure in it after know what he did. Just a little. A smidgeon. But she didn’t. She felt the same filthy feeling as the last time she did it. She took the soul gem from her pocket. As his eyes dulled, the black gem glowed. She threw his body off of her. Just as she feared, she got his blood all over her clothes. She sighed, sitting on the bed. Even if she got home without running into a patrolling guard, it would take ages to get the stains out.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Tara said to Rufio’s corpse. She could still feel his bony fingers in her arms. She was about to climb out of the window when a familiar chill swept over the room.

The assassin, Lucien Lachance, appeared in the doorway, smiling down at Rufio’s body. His smile was colder than the air around him. Tara couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“So, the deed is done,” he said. “You are now a part of the family.”

Tara folded her arms. She didn’t feel comforted. In fact, she felt even worse. “Now what?” She asked.

“Now, you accept your fate. The slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio's blood, the ink.” He ran his finger in the puddle of blood that formed under Rufio. He dotted it on his lips, and then smeared it on Tara’s forehead. She flinched at his touch.
“As a Speaker of the Black Hand,” he continued. “I directly oversee a particular group of family members. 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. The Night Mother rules her children with a terrible Black Hand. The Black Hand is the ruling body of the Dark Brotherhood. It is made up of one Listener and Four Speakers. Four fingers and a thumb, if you will. As a member of the Dark Brotherhood, you must abide by the Five Tenets. They are the laws that guide and protect us. Welcome to the family.”

She said nothing.

“I still sense your hesitation.” He laughed a little. “No matter. In time, you will feel the embrace of your family. When you are ready to meet them, you will 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. 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.”

Just as he had before, he vanished. The air slowly returned to its normal temperature, this time accompanied by the coppery scent of blood. As silently as she had slipped in, Tara climbed out of the small window.