Elder Scroll series 1. The Great Siege

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I was born a misfit into a family of Kings and Queens.

The Asquerana family dated back to the beginning of it all. My great-great-grandfather stood before the first Emperor who received the Amulet of Kings from the Gods. We were nobles. We were rich, powerful, unstoppable, and yes… we were greedy, haughty and even to go as far as slaves among our own heritage. My father was Nobleman: Jerald Asquerana, High Elf, great merchant, strong in Arcane Arts. My mother was the daughter of the old Countess of Kvatch, High Elf, beautiful maiden who used her looks and brains to win over anything she wanted.

Their life for me consisted of serving as the Princess that I was supposed to be. I would marry back into my own family to carry on the Asquerana name. I would serve this stolen life in solitude and confinement never truly knowing how it feels to be free and able to decide my own destiny. My life was written down in their books. It seemed that I would never truly grasp the fate that I dreamed of at the darkest of nights high in my room surrounded by flamboyant limestone walls that never seemed to belong to me. My life… seemed sold.

At least… that was until the day that the Oblivion gate breeched the soil in front of my wondrous city…

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At the break of dawn, the Chapel bells tolled. Not in its systematic way, but in a distress signal. The ringing seemed piercing and continual for a long session of thirty minutes. The town was awoken at a bleeding sun, only to see brimstone and ash fall down upon them like snow. The Kvatch gates were stormed and foreign warriors ran into the city brandishing an assortment of unworldly weapons. Possibly, this was reinforcement… but for what?

A man stepped forward to greet the leader, but was only greeted back by blackened steel running across his jugular and tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone. As the first blood had cascaded down to the soil, the civilians of Kvatch knew that this was no friend to them.

Screams echoed out across the city as buildings were raided one after another. More innocent people were dragged out to the streets and slaughtered like cattle. Kvatch guards did their best to fight back. They held tightly onto their trembling swords and bows as they matched the battlecries of these monsters and prayed to the Nine that all would turn out well. As their several arrows seemed to block out the rising sun, these foreign warriors answered back the call. Smirks ran across their lips as their mages moved forward. Each one summoned a fierce swirling ball of hellfire and catapulted it through the air.

Guards were consumed with fire as did houses and even the Chapel whose top began to crumble like a clump of soil and soon fell down blocking a path out of the city sending a great tremor through the earth. Some escaped through the gates only to greet the second line of monsters.

"N-No, please!" pleaded a bleeding man as a warrior walked up to him casually, "Have mercy upon us! What have we ever done to deserve this suffering?!"

The warrior's distant eerie eyes slowly fell upon the man, his nostrils flared and his dark skin was cased with another's blood as he simply answered in a hoarse and cold voice, "… you lived." His battle axe was thrusted back and brought down upon the crown of the man as if he were a log needed to be chopped.

Within a mansion estate of the richest man in Kvatch, an old Nord butler thrusted a large plank of wood in the lock of the front door. He grunted and heaved a great sigh as he turned around to his Master. "Everything is locked up, milord. Your wife and sons are waiting for you at the basement exit. Now, please hurry! I'm not sure how long we can hold off them Daedra."

Jerald furrowed his brow over his icy blue eyes. A worried expression ran across his face as his memory of such creatures began to blossom like a flower. All those teachings at the university… he merely thought such things were myths or possibly that the creatures were extinct. But all this time… the High Elf bowed his heavy head. Suddenly, his head snapped back up, "Wait… my daughter… where is my daughter?"

The Nord's eyes suddenly grew immense as he turned around and peeped out the crack in a window. His lips were dry and he softly muttered out, "… the Chapel- we have to go get her!"

Jerald's pointed ears perked and he protested, "No, we shan't!"

The Nord twisted around with wide eyes, "She's your daughter! Elizabeth is your damned daughter! She will be _murdered_ if we don't get her!"

Jerald's eyes turned even colder as he rotated on his heels and walked to the basement door. His back was tense and it was almost as if his mind was completely made up about this decision. "If anyone of us goes out there then we would surely die. It's too late to get her."

Astonishment and hatred swirled in the Nord's eyes as he heard this from a father. How could this man abandon his own daughter and not even attempt to save her? The plump hands of the butler twirled into pasty white fists as he stormed after his Master. We was never to deny the command of his Master even if his mind was clearly objecting the command given.

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The coldness of the morning nipped at Elizabeth's curled nose. Her rosy cheeks stuck out most upon her ghostly pale façade. Her brilliant winter eyes were casted upon the cobblestone way before her as she strolled down the long path back to her house. She had bought various mixtures from Brother Martin at the Chapel to cure diseases and heal wounds. Bromus, the Nord Butler, had an injured knee from stumbling down the stairs. She was only too obliged to help him for all her life he was like a father to her rather than the strict man who demanded a lady out of her and instead got a rebellious troubled daughter. Her pale fingertips tugged at the cloak around her as the wind began to dance and push her about.

Suddenly, the Chapel's warning bells had shrieked out into the air and Elizabeth froze in her footsteps. Her head tossed up to the steeples as she could practically see the vibrations through the air. Possibly what could make the Chapel send out a distress signal? Coils of silver hair fell from the windbraid style that the maiden had put her hair into. She rushed down the streets knowing that her mother and father would more and likely like her to be home in case the guards were to usher them out of the city.

Just as sudden as the bells had rung was there a bloodcurdling scream from a local beggar woman. Chills ran down the maiden's spine and her eyes seemed frozen on the direction that the scream had come. A murder? Her feet moved faster against the dew stricken cobblestone, her route to her house shortening by half. She rounded the Chapel and made her way across the courtyard; however, she couldn't complete the journey. In moments the grand Chapel crumbled down and fell before her. A yelp was let off as she ran a few meters away to avoid any falling rubble. What was happening out there? She wondered to herself.

She ran across some of the steeple that was still intact and she glanced over to see warriors attacking her city. Her eyes grew larger and she gasped, her hand soon rising to her petite lips. Her neighbors—her friends—her mentors… they were all being slain.

Some; however, ran to the Holy Ground to be safe, others were not so fortunate. As Elizabeth hid within the wreckage to witness this terrible event, two shadows overcame her. Her eyes were pried from the battles upon her streets and she looked up. Her face turned even paler and she felt her back tense as she saw two foreign warriors. Their brawny physiques plated in an armor that looked like charred bones and lava designs. They chuckled beneath their wicked helmets and murmured a language incoherent to the girl. She glanced back and forth between them as they both swung their swords by their sides; trapping her in the rubble.

Her eyes narrowed as her hand snuck down beside her and picked up a hefty piece of a chapel brick. She positioned herself and hurtled the chunk straight into the face of one of the warriors. "Get out of my city!" She bellowed stridently to them as the chunk collided with the warrior's mask and he fell backwards.

The other warrior was shell-shocked and merely watched his companion tip over and hit the cold damp ground. Elizabeth saw this as her chance and immediately ran to her house. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest as she seized the big brass doorknob and gave the door a grand yank. It barely budged and the girl's eyes widened immensely.

"By the Divines—BROMUS!" She boomed as she collided her fists with the door three quick times. "Bromus help! Open the door! HELP! Bromus—AH!" Two hands grabbed her weak arms and jerked her backwards nearly swiping her off her feet.

Her hair flew over her face and she bent down slightly hearing the chuckles from the two Daedric warriors. She lifted her head and glanced side to side trying to get a better look at them as they spoke in a language that she _could_ understand.

"Well, well… this one's boldness surely shows over all the fear… how shall we deal with this one?" the left one had purred with a deadly smirk.

The right Daedra merely looked over the High Elf with a disgusted look, "I say… we slit her throat and leave her here." He lifted his sword and prodded into her neck with a chuckle, "what do you think?"

The first one pursed his lips and glanced up over the chapel seeing the top of the Oblivion gate poking over the Kvatch southern gate he glanced back to his companion, "Let's bring her to the front to Commander Broga. This one looks like an aristocrat; Broga had said that he wanted scholars such as this girl."

His companion groaned and tossed his sword down to his side. "Bring her to the front, then. I will raid these houses and look for more of your so-called scholars." He pushed the girl away and stormed past the houses with wary eyes.

The Daedra grinned and wrapped his arm around her, dragging her through the rubble. He leapt over half of it and landed gracefully, continuing his thunderous stride. He tossed the girl before a colossal warrior. Elizabeth hit the ground hard and let off a yelp as she felt her palms scrape across the ground. Her head rose and her silver hair was tossed from her face. Her eyes widened as she saw this giant before her.

His helmet had been removed and two ebon colored horns jutted from his temples and waved back like the blade of an Elven dagger. His midnight hair, which was almost as dark as his skin, had been pulled back out of his frightening face. His bloodshot eyes fell down to her and his fierce hoarse voice demanded, "Report, Dremora."

The Daedra warrior bowed his head and said, "We found her outside the chapel. Her clothes are far more luxurious then any other humanoid we have seen. She is bold and fierce as well, sir. Perhaps she is a scholar?"

Broga sneered as he looked down upon her, "Perhaps," he muttered off. He bent a knee and looked her straight in the face with hatred and disgust swirling in those demonic crimson eyes. "Tell us, human; are you a scholar of Tamerial?"

Elizabeth stared into his ghastly eyes. She couldn't seem to conjure a voice to herself as long as she looked at him. She shuddered and finally she closed her eyes and bowed her head, "I… I've been taught… well, if that is what y-you are asking. I know all of Tamerial's… p-parts and history… I…I am also… skilled in the Arcane Arts as… as well as some work of the blade." Her voice began to falter as her vision reached past the commander and she saw more Daedra knights waltzing through the castle gates. How many there were was astounding!

Broga rose to his full height and his eyes elevated to his peer. "Take her to Oblivion."

Elizabeth leapt up to her feet and forgot her place as she snapped, "What? No! Please, I-"

Broga's hand flew into the air and backhanded her harshly. Elizabeth swirled and hit the ground hard with wide eyes. The rocks upon the earth cutting into her palms; drawing blood. She twisted and looked up to him with a hand touching her already red cheek. A few stinging tears rolling down her cheek. "Speak when spoken to, Altmer." He spat while walking past her to his troops who were raiding and destroying homes.

The knight chuckled as he grabbed her arm and dragged her through the Kvatch gate. Trying her hardest, Elizabeth could not free herself. The crowd of Daedra parted into files. They all casted their eyes upon her with wary looks and even some sheltered smirks and cackles as they watched her struggle. The High Elf saw the grand gate whose border seemed made out of charred bone and crimson spikes. A swirl of slightly transparent lava and fire churned in the middle.

As she came closer it appeared to act as a mirror. She saw her own frightened face and knew that this was the portal to Oblivion. Her eyes grew wider and soon she was swallowed into the fire, and disappeared from Kvatch…

…then reappeared within the dark world of Oblivion.

_**-TBC-**_

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**_Alright, I really hope you enjoyed. R&R please, I really need to know if this should go somewhere or not. Thank you very much for reading or even glancing at it -weak smile- _**


	2. Prisoner of War

_**I'm glad people actually wanted to read this. I was sitting here completely frightened that no one would like it… but oh well. Here's the new addition. **_

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"Let me go, you foul deranged monster! I said, 'Let me GO!'" Elizabeth had shrieked as she tugged at her grasped arm which was in the clutches of the Daedra.

"Shut your mouth and stop complaining!" groaned the warrior who dragged her through the portal, "But do… say hello to your nice… new… home."

They vanished inside the portal and Elizabeth clenched her eyes shut in fear. Her body trembled and soon she was tugged forward. Her eyes opened and the sight that she saw petrified her. Grand ebon towers rose through crimson clouds high in the sky. Lightning struck down upon the bronze soil causing new fires and boulders to fall from high ledges. This was not a vast area for the mere speck of land they were upon was surrounded by the hottest of lava. She wondered if there was more past the lava. Possibly, there were other lands.

As the atmosphere consumed her, her body shivered and she wondered to herself, _if there is lava and swirling infernos… why do I feel so cold? _This question bothered her as they made their way down a path to a massive stone bridge that hovered a few feet over the scorching fumes of the lava. A few Clannfears stood as guard dogs upon the bridge. They gave the Daedra knight a wary glance who in return just snarled and knocked them out of his way.

The immense towering gates were pried open and Elizabeth could see behind it a rocky and rough mountain path that led to a significant tower whose essence was made wholly out of wickedness. Elizabeth had figured that the meaning for this tower was that of wickedness as well.

The Daedra knight tossed his gaze over his shoulder to see the Elf maiden abiding to the laws of being a Prisoner of War. He snarled to her with an annoyed voice, "I will hand you over to one of our own Churls who will then take you to rather the left or right tower. When Markynaz Broga returns from battle, then shall your interrogation begin of your kingdom called Tamerial, understand?"

Elizabeth was rather flustered by these names such as '_Churl+_' and even '_Markynaz+_'; however, she nodded and had replied feebly, "Yes, sir."

The Daedra nodded and his eyes rose to a Kynmarcher who was at his outpost near the tower door. His eyes held curiosity as he looked over Elizabeth with both disgust an interest. The Dremora near Elizabeth called to him, "You there! Get me a Churl to be an escort to our fine guest; orders of Broga!"

The Kynmarcher snorted and disappeared inside the citadel. His armored figured had vanished within the sheltered shadows inside and no later had he gone in had he came out with another Daedra. His hand was grasping its neck as he dragged him along as if he were nothing but a hunted animal. "There," snarled the Kynmarcher as he tossed the Churl out in front of him like a drunkard would be thrown out of a pub, "I'm sure Xilivicus wouldn't mind serving on Broga's orders. Always trying to prove himself, well now he has the opportunity. Don't mess up, meat."

The Churl stumbled forward then immediately came to attention. His voice and look pulsed with flamboyance. Elizabeth could easily see how hard he was going to try and prove himself.

"Yes sir!" He nearly bellowed off the Dremora's and even Elizabeth's ear. "You wanted me?"

The warrior scoffed and pushed Elizabeth forward with a firm hand. "Take this mortal and put her in one of our towers. Don't let her out of your sight, you hear me?" He puffed.

The Churl saluted, his body fully erect as he responded in a matter of milliseconds in the same striving-to-prove-worthy voice, "Yes sir!" His armored hands grabbed Elizabeth tightly showing hardly any mercy.

Elizabeth's face winced and she gave an annoyed glare to the Daedra as his gauntlets pinched her skin a few times. The warrior nodded and quickly he had turned to leave for the Oblivion gate that would take him back to Kvatch to finish the job. The Kynmarcher gave Xilivicus a side glare. He could feel his fellow Kyn's eyes lingering upon him beneath his heavily armored helmet. The Kynmarcher snorted and walked back to his post, leaving the two alone together.

The High Elf sighed deeply and looked up into the helmet. She didn't expect his face to be pretty under that helmet. Possibly that was why they wore it everywhere they went. "So," she began, hoping he was unlike the other Daedra, "which tower shall it be then?"

His helmet tilted back as he looked up at one tower at a time. His eyes lingered for a while as though he was studying each establishment trying to figure out which was the better one. He finally gave her arm a light tug and then he had demanded, "Follow me."

Xilivicus stalked away towards the right tower, his grasp on Elizabeth never ceasing.

As the doors slid back into the walls like plates, Elizabeth had snarled, "You should know by now that I am not going to run. It would be a trip made in vain."

"I'm not taking any chances," he retorted while walking to a great lever that was built into the wall. He grasped it and pulled it down.

There were series of loud clanks and a large circular body smashing platform began to rise. Before it got too high, Xilivicus stepped upon it, dragging Elizabeth behind him. He glanced sideways out of his helmet, overlooking her features. He had never seen a High Elf before… he hadn't even seen a mortal before. Yes, there were a few sacrificial Mythic Dawn members but they were always killed before he could ever speak with one.

The platform rose to the second level then leisurely slowed then stopped. Xilivicus then stepped off and began his way up a spiraling limestone incline that circled all the way up to the top of the tower. Elizabeth became winded after the third or forth spiral. Her hand pressed upon her chest as it became harder to breathe. Aside from the fact that she had never really been an athletic person, she was wearing her royal uniform which happened to include a corset and slick leather sandals.

Her breathing became harsh and she would inquire for her escort to carry her; however, she was sure that the Daedra were not that sensible or caring enough and would be delighted to watch her climb the rest of the tower in torture. Xilivicus had slowed and he glanced back at her with bothered eyes. He heard her raspy breathing a few steps back. He pursed his lips then inquired, "… what's wrong with you?"

Elizabeth's narrowed eyes elevated to him and she wheezed, "I… just never have… climbed this far before. I'm just feeling… a-a little faint."

The Churl groaned with aggravation as he looked forward. "I shouldn't worry about you leaving, should I? You'd fall dead before you even got to run down these ramps," he turned around and bent low. Elizabeth gave him a wary glance and in a matter of seconds she was literally swept off her feet. She nearly screamed as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. He scoffed and said, "Don't get used to this, Altmer. I just… can't have you dying before the interrogation with Broga."

Elizabeth's fingertips dug into his armor and her eyes grew to the size of grand soul gems as she could see over the edge of the ramp down, down, down to the bloodied spikes protruding out of the ground floor below. _Oh my…_ she had whispered to herself. Xilivicus moved on and soon they were at the top. Upon the top level there was a cage made out of black charred bones and menacing red curled spikes. The Daedra placed Elizabeth down and walked over to a lever. He gave it a great jerk and the cage door flew open. "Get inside," he demanded.

Elizabeth walked inside the cage and watched as the door swung up from the ground and closed in on her. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as the reality of the situation was beginning to hit her.

She was in Oblivion.

She was a hostage.

Her home… destroyed.

Her family… gone.

How in the world was she to escape from this one? Her father's money couldn't get her away from this, her mother's looks wouldn't alter Broga's mind either and she was certain that no one was going to barge in and save her like a knight in shining armor.

Her fingertips swirled around the bars of the cage and she lightly leaned upon the cage door. The Churl stood in front of her, not taking his eyes off of her—like she were some sort of magically disappearing criminal. "… Do you have to stare at me like _that_?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

He crossed his arms and groaned, "…how would you like me to stare at you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and gave her head a quick shake, "I'm not sure… for one, you could at least be proper and give me eye-contact. So then I might actually know if you're staring at me or falling asleep inside that helmet of yours. For two, you could not just… stare… at me like you're some sort of Goblin Savage, and for three, you could at least start up a conversation to make time go faster." A witty smile played across her lips as she said this.

"I will take off my helmet," he compromised, "if you will not force conversation onto me."

"May I inquire, why?" She asked while leaning back and crossing her own arms.

He glanced away and lifted his gauntlets soon grasping his helmet with gloved hands and pulling it off of his head. Two dark ebon horns curved back over his head like dragon's horns the base were at his temples. His skin was a smooth royal purple that glistened with sweat in the firelight that was hanging above them. His diamond shaped eyes were a pumpkin patch orange and the pupils seemed to be slit like cat eyes. His overall appearance seemed very… diverse… compared to other Daedras which Elizabeth had seen.

His waved orange hair pulled back out of his face, even though a bang of ginger fell beside his left eye. He placed his helmet upon the ground before him then stood straight. "… No conversations." He simply said.

Elizabeth leaned forward on the bars with a furrowed brow. Her lips slightly agape as a question lingered upon the tip of her tongue, but she was sure that he would never answer it. _He actually looks… human. His face… other Daedra… they… they have scars and disfigured faces. They look so demonic and cruel. But he looks so—_her mind was cut short as he asked her a question, "… why are you taking this so well?"

Her eyes fluttered as she began to come back to it. He walked closer to the cage making sure he could hear her answer. She stood for a moment and contemplated over it. Why did she take it so well? "… I… I don't honestly know." She answered. "So far no true harm has occurred to me, what is there to worry about?"

Xilivicus's brow rose as he became interested in this matter. "... so far." he repeated her. "There are always the future events to worry about like the interrogation and precisely what will happen to your oh-so-wonderful town out there."

She nodded and bowed her head in silence. After a moment or two she said, "I'll worry about the future when it gets here." Her eyes rose and she smiled, "You started a conversation… therefore I shall carry it on. May I ask why you look nothing like any of the Daedra out there in Kvatch. You look more… human."

He never did open his mouth to answer her. His cold distant eyes seemed to fall through the tower's walls and to another place. His eyes glossed over with hatred then he came back to the girl and hissed, "… no conversations."

Elizabeth glared at him and retorted, "You were the one to speak to me—as a gentleman you must respond to my question-"

"I'm not a gentleman," he snarled at her, "I'm a Daedra."

The two glared hatefully at one another, whispering curses into the dark compartments of their minds. She then snapped, "Then at least tell me why you are so desperate to please your higher officials. That's what you are, correct? A low and useless guard who will do the biding of anything higher then himself."

He turned away and remained quiet. His back was to her and she bore daggers into the back of his head with her crystal blue eyes. How long was she to take this from a monster like him? Her eyes fell down to her sandals and slowly she kicked them off watching them fall lifeless upon the petite cage floor. She then lifted her skirts and held them tightly in her left hand. With shifty eyes she looked from her guard to the lever. She only had possibly one shot to take. Her petite right hand reached far out of the cage and aimed at the lever. Her eyes clenched shut and she murmured an electrocution spell to herself.

From the pale tips of her fingers, lightning bolts surged out and struck the lever soon causing it to split into pieces and cascade down upon the floor like confetti. The cage fell open and Xilivicus swirled around with wide eyes. Elizabeth, with her skirts in her hand and her bare feet upon the ground, sprinted off and to the stairwell. She rounded it quickly and began her long descent.

Xilivicus cursed and bolted after her. His eyes lifted to a hanging corpse and he grinned. He turned his attention to the corpse as he leapt off the ledge of the ramp. In midair he had grasped the rope that the body was tied to and slid down with much speed and even grace.

Elizabeth breathed heavily as she grasped the lever to raise the platform that had returned back to its normal position. The clanking soon surrounded her as her chest was heaving and she whispered prayers within herself. Each thump sounded off like a clock counting down to her inevitable doom. As she was about to board the platform, straight from above her, Xilivicus had dropped and immediately shoved her upon the closest wall.

She let off a grunt as she glared up into his eyes seeing his face even closer. His dark eyebrows lined his eyes and he snarled, "You're so lucky that it was I who caught you and not any other Daedra, for they would have surely cut you down where you stood. I, myself, am even tempted to grasp you by that scrawny neck and watch as your soul slips out of-"

"Churl… that will not be needed," a cold voice had said that came from behind Xilivicus.

The Daedra jerked his head around to see Broga standing behind him. His higher commander towered over him with a diminutive smirk. He could hear the victory cries from here. The Churl slowly let go of the girl and backed up, "Yes, sir." He hissed.

Broga lifted his head and stepped off the platform with a broad grin, "I have interrogated every scholar up till this moment. Each had… scarcely any information that I found pleasing. This disappoints me, Altmer. I do hope what you have to say is… worth my while, or indeed you will suffer the same as they had, please, if you will return back up to the tower I would really _appreciate_ that." Even though the gesture was polite, his cold voice made it a demand as well as a last resort before death.

Elizabeth shuddered as she looked at him. He truly was a monster, and that murdering smile did not hold good fortune for her. The girl quickly ran back up the ramps to the tower keep. Broga watched her and as she had left earshot the commander turned to his inferior and said with a glare twisting upon his face, "… if you can't even keep a single _girl_ under control, I can hardly imagine Lord Dagon asking you to return to his court. Don't screw this up for us, Xilivicus. Not again."

The Daedra lowered his gaze and said meekly, "… I won't, sir."

Broga sneered, "Take a good look outside, Churl. If your insubordination continues, then you and the rest of the scholars will be joining each other very soon."

The commander quickly left for the tower with an annoyance swirling in his brain. Xilivicus turned around to the bridge entrance and pried open the door slightly. From three spikes were flaming lynched corpses. Clannfears were surrounding the bottom of the spikes eating falling innards and other such things. The Daedra narrowed his eyes and quietly shut the door knowing the worst was to come to Elizabeth and himself…

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**_R&R, I'll really need some encouragement if you like to read this. If I don't get reviews then I won't continue writing. Simple as that._**


	3. Playing Nice

**_Woo! People are reading it! … and also becoming my grammar teacher. Hah. I love it. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it a lot, you wouldn't believe it. Anyways. Here is the new segment.

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Elizabeth found that retreating back into her cage would be useless for the door could not function properly since the gate lever had been destroyed. Instead, she merely stood outside the cage. She had reached her hands inside to grab her sandals and put them back upon her sore feet. In a few moments, the heavy thuds of armored boots made its way up the ramp.

The girl stood straight and turned around, properly facing the commander. She remembered him telling her to not speak unless spoken to; therefore, she held this as a rule when he was near. She held her head high hoping none of her fear would be hinted at. If he knew truly how she felt then he might have more of an advantage over her then what he might have now. The Dremora neared with narrowed eyes. His face seemed to gleam with sweat and blood that had sprayed upon him during battle. His jet black hair was drenched with sweat and his two ebon horns seemed shaper and far more terrifying up close then they had back in Kvatch.

His gloved hand reached up to his breastplate and he worked it off him and placed it aside. Elizabeth watched with curious eyes as he continued to remove his armor. The cuirass lay lifeless upon the floor and he stood there in a jet colored tunic that hung loosely to his great brawny figure. He turned to her and explained, "After battles such as Kvatch, the armor starts to feel heavier then it is and weighs you down even more. Now if I remove it, I can move much more easily… say, if you were to run away like you did to Xilivicus… I would catch you before you took even two steps."

"I learn from my mistakes," she said with a bowed head and a furiously beating frightened heart. "I won't try to r-run away again."

"—unless you see the opportune moment." He added in with a serious face and a hissing voice. He moved even closer and sighed, "Well then, let us get to the interrogation. I've gotten very impatient over the last few scholar's information. So tell me what you know before I get _very_ impatient."

She sighed and then questioned cautiously, "What…is it that you want to know?"

He gave her an incredulous look. She could practically see his patient meter burst within him. His jaw clenched and he lightly muttered, "Everything."

"It will be hard to tell you everything without any specific details," said she, "would you like to know certain landmarks or the greatest of areas or the most populated or…?"

Broga glanced off, uninterested, "I have heard this all before," he groaned, "I want to know what exactly is in Tamerial."

Elizabeth blinked a few times, attempting to process this, "Tamerial consists of a lot of parts, sir. There is… Hammerfall, Summerset Isle, Black Marsh, Morrowind, Cyrodiil-"

"Cyrodiil," interrupted the Dremora. "I want to know about the parts of Cyrodiil."

Elizabeth bowed her head thinking deeply. Under these circumstances her mind was so unraveled and she was certain that if she didn't answer soon, Broga would force an answer out of her. She sighed deeply and continued, "Cyrodiil has many cities in it… there is Bruma, Bravil, Anvil, Cheydinhal, Leyawiin, Chorrol, Skingrad, the Imperial City, and Kvatch which… has been probably wiped off the world. All of Cyrodiil is practically centered around the Imperial city which is where the Emperor is at."

Broga nodded, "Emperor Uriel Septim and his sons… where are they in the city?"

Elizabeth glanced up and said, "In the center, of course, in the Imperial Palace. The sons are usually there or walking about the city. Imperial City is in the shape of a great wheel with massive walls. All over Cyrodiil the Imperial Palace can be seen in the sky."

Broga glanced away; his mind was ticking away like clockwork, "… I see," he then glanced back and asked, "The government; who are they?"

"Mostly the government… w-would be the Blades. They work to protect the emperor and contain order in each and every city. Their outpost is high within the mountains near Bruma. The rest of the government would possibly be... the guards and the Chancellor."

Broga took this information in. The other scholars would tell him mostly that Tamerial had many races and different people and the terrain of each section. They didn't think while talking but… this girl did. She knew that Broga didn't want the weather status or how the people are. He wanted geography details and he wanted to know about the whole society as one. The questions continued to come and it seemed that the Dremora pressed further and further into the Emperor's life. Elizabeth answered any question brought to her. When she had mentioned the Amulet of Kings, Broga became highly interested.

"… and if an heir does not wear this Amulet…" he began.

"… then Tamerial shall fall into darkness." She had finished for him. "There's a whole prophecy in it that I haven't gotten to yet. All that I can say is that an heir must be wearing the Amulet of Kings or we'll face our own downfall."

Broga smiled brightly, "It appears that you had the information I was looking for, dear sweet mortal. I guess your life is actually worth something afterall. I still have needs of you… so you shall not return to your dimension just yet." He turned and put on his armor and then continued, "… Xilivicus shall be your escort and your guardian from now on. An almost… personal guard—if you will. Each day he shall take note of important things you say. Any knowledge of your world will be very meaningful to us. Do not fret, child, your protection shall be our number one priority. You are an honored guest here, and you shall be shown the privileges of an honored guest. Whatever you may desire, Xilivicus shall fetch it for you unless of course it collides with our laws… you understand don't you?"

Elizabeth gave a nod of acknowledgement. She concealed a troubled frown and held back her tongue which needed some answers. Why did he ask so many questions of the Emperor? Who else was here with her? What happened to the scholars? Eventually, like her other people in Kvatch, was she going to die as well?

Broga turned and began down the ramps; however, Elizabeth stopped him. "Wait," she called out. "… What about food and water? Where shall I sleep?"

The Dremora glanced over his shoulder with uninterested narrowed eyes, "Food… ah, yes. Food," he turned back around, "Your escort shall bring you food and water to drink. Your facilities are in the center tower—you cannot be alone in there, if you are caught alone you shall be punished. The quarters for the Dremora are in a corridor beneath the center tower, you; however, shall sleep in this tower. Once again, Xilivicus shall provide you with what you need. Any more questions?"

Elizabeth shook her head and replied lightly, "…no, sir."

"Good," he nodded and left the girl all to herself.

As Broga walked to the platform, he saw Xilivicus standing by for more instructions. The commander smirked and replied, "She passed the first test. Victory for the mortal, her doom has been delayed."

Xilivicus furrowed his dark brow, "… test?"

Broga nodded, "She answered all questions correctly. Now, I must be off. I need to inform Lord Dagon that we will need services of the Mythic Dawn. I believe that a few assassins will be needed for our next step."

"Assassins?" Xilivicus blinked a few times, "Why would we need…?"

Broga waved away the question and quickly changed the subject, "You shall be the mortal's guard. Tend to her every whim. Give her what she needs to live. You aren't very knowledgeable of what is happening with Lord Dagon and Tamerial; therefore, you may answer any question she asks unless you see it fit to ignore it. You already know what shall happen if you don't follow the laws that Dagon has issued for us."

"Yes," growled the Churl, "… I know."

"Good," Broga stepped upon the platform and there was a click and slowly the platform began to fall through the air. "…don't disappoint me, Churl."

The Churl furrowed his brow and quickly made his way up to the tower keep. As he entered upon the top floor he saw Elizabeth sitting down on the floor with his helmet in her lap. Her head was tilted near it and her eyes studied it closely. Her pale fingertips caressing past the large spikes and carved designs in it. "… What are you doing?" growled the man.

Elizabeth glanced up, "I'm looking at the component used to make your helmet, I don't believe I've ever seen it before."

"You probably haven't," he said while walking over and taking his helmet from her.

He raised it above his head and just as he was about to put it on, she protested, "You said you were going to keep your helmet off! If you put it on then you must engage in conversations with me."

He tossed his piercing orange gaze down at her. His face containing its stern posture as he said, "… why do you even _try_ to talk to me?"

"Well, I want to get to know you," she answered truthfully, "I'm going to see a lot of you, I want to at least be on a friendly status with you. Don't you want to know more about me?"

He scowled and glanced away, lowering his helmet before him and placing it once more upon the ground. "… no, I don't." He replied cautiously.

She nodded in understanding and then looked up at him, "… I know this might be a little demanding, but can you please get me some food and drink. I haven't eaten in a while and I'm beginning to grow hungry."

Xilivicus took note of this and said, "Stay here."

Elizabeth gave her head a nod and watched as her guard left to fulfill her wish. She bowed her head and knew what would happen to her if she attempted to run. For now, she would abide to their rules. The frown that she had been hiding finally showed upon her face and she bowed her head in desperation. Her world had disappeared beneath her feet and her way of life had been destroyed. The inevitable was looming on the horizon and only in a matter of time would she join her fellow people who lie dead in the streets in Kvatch.

-+-

The Dremora returned many minutes later carrying a bundle of different things. As he walked up the ramps he hoped to himself that Elizabeth wasn't foolish enough to leave. As he carefully glided up to the top story he saw her sitting precisely where she was before. Her great sapphire cat-like eyes rose up to his hands to see the surprises that he had brought to her.

He cradled bags and boxes and slowly he laid them out before the girl. "… I went to Kvatch and I found a few supplies. They were in a facility for food, so I took them. I also happened to grab a few books and scrolls as well as… femalian… clothing and a mat for when you need to rest."

Elizabeth smiled brightly, "Thank you."

He shrugged and dropped the bags rather ruthlessly. The bags went crashing to the ground making a thunderous collision and a few contents rolled out. He turned and walked to the ramps soon sitting down in the path. He looked very agitated and also in a way, jealous. Elizabeth frowned and glared over at him, "You could have put it down more nicely."

"You didn't say so, princess," he hissed while closing his tired eyes.

The girl pursed her lips and crawled over to the wreckage soon probing through the bags to find a bushel of emerald apples, a head of lettuce, a few crushed strawberries, and crunched leaves of nightshade. Her brow furrowed and she glanced up, "… This is nightshade…"

"…and?" He opened his eyes and the orange fury pierced through the dimness of the tower.

"It's poisonous!" She snapped while holding the leaves in her hand. "Anyone who so eats this could die!"

"Well, good," he purred while leaning his head back and looking at the crimson sky whose clouds billowed and waltzed around like dancers. "Maybe then you wouldn't force me into conversations."

Suddenly, the head of lettuce that had been lying next to Elizabeth's side was hurled through the air and struck the Dremora in the face. He nearly toppled backwards at the sudden impact. As he leveled himself, a few pieces of lettuce were hanging from his spiked horns. "… you little wench-"

Elizabeth turned away to her food and sighed, "Broga won't like it if you talk to me so rudely. It makes me not want to share what I know about Cyrodiil."

Xilivicus's face tensed and he pursed his lips like he was sucking on a lemon. With a deep growl, he tore off lettuce leaves from his horns and tossed them aside, "… you…" he began then quickly held his tongue. This woman had him wrapped around her finger now. She knew how to play her cards and how to keep him in line. Time would only tell until she completely corrupted his mind and made him her mindless drone. However, if he were to be sentenced to death because of her—he would only be born again for Daedra was an immortal race.

He picked up a shattered emerald piece of lettuce and chucked it back at her without any remorse. His jagged teeth pierced into his lower dark lip as it hurled through the air. Elizabeth gasped and moved out of the way just in time for it to nearly skim against her head. She winced then glared up, "How dare you attempt to strike a woman!"

His lips curled and he hissed back at her, "I didn't hit a woman… I hit an animal."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she shoved her hands upon the ground and stood quickly. Her silver hair falling beside her dead blue eyes as she snapped back, "You wretched monster," she bent over and scooped up two apples. As she stood she aimed and tossed one at Xilivicus, "You are a terrible, hideous monstrosity to this world and even my own!" The apple collided with the wall beside the Dremora and exploded in a pale yellow mush that rolled down the wall like sap.

Xilivicus leapt to his feet and right as he stood another apple flew at him and struck him in the chest. He stumbled back a little with a glare. Pieces of apple burst upon his face and quickly rolled down his square chin and dense neck. He snarled and quickly shed of his cuirass, tossing it to his side knowing its only use now was to get soiled and smell of human food. A soiled and bloodied brown tunic was lying beneath it. "You eccentric savage, I'll praise the day when I see you slaughtered down like the animal you are!"

Elizabeth felt frightened chills roll down her back and her body began to tense. The High Elf bent down and scooped up more shimmering apples into her hands. She tossed an apple sightlessly as she picked up more ammo to catapult at him. Her lips pursed together tightly and she snarled in a faltering voice, "I am the animal? _I_ am the _animal_?" Another apple was hurtled blindly at him as her eyes began to water with frustrated and hurt tears. "You are evil monsters who murder humans like livestock! How dare you insult me so lowly—how dare y-" As she lifted to throw another apple her wrist was grasped and pulled far above her head. She let off a gasp and the first thing she saw when raising were fiery eyes that pierced far into her soul, igniting her.

Her pupils shrunk and Xilivicus gave her a scolding stare. He towered over her with her wrist grasped in his firm hand. She stood on tiptoe so her arm would not become the thing that she would dangle on. He slowly placed her back down and demanded of her, "… eat your food. I will fix your mat for you to sleep on. It looks like you need the rest, do you not?" His now calming voice asked.

Elizabeth looked at him; befuddled. Her mind was slipping away from her and she couldn't precisely figure out this situation. He acted so cruel towards her and then… he cared. Her brow lowered over her eyes and she said, "… I… I am a little tired."

He nodded and stepped back, giving a glance to a bag that contained her sleeping necessities. "Let me set out everything… just fill yourself up with whatever is left from our little brawl." The Dremora stepped aside and started pulling out objects and setting them up for her. His attitude had completely changed now, but for what reason?

Elizabeth sat herself down and looked to the few crushed strawberries and half a bushel of apples that remained. She picked up an apple and bit into. The sweet juices popped inside her mouth and she closed her eyes as she could imagine her home. She could see upon the grand mahogany table the little silver bowl who cradled the apples like children. Each fruit was sweet and fulfilling with each bite. She could smell Bromus's cooking and her father's pipe that he lit only on the beginning and end of each week. As her eyes opened the scene had disappeared and she saw the dreary and gloomy walls of the tower. Her heart began to fall within her chest as for the first time in her life she began to miss her home in Kvatch.

Her eyes seemed dull and the life began to slowly drain out of them. The apple became only another worthless object in her hand as she looked down upon it. This was the only memento that she had of her home. Her hand fell to her lap and she sighed deeply as troublesome things began to litter her mind. How was she ever going to get out of this predicament? Just like the story her parents had written for her, Broga started his own story. Of the Elven Maiden who told all she knew of Tamerial which led to its downfall.

Elizabeth glanced up to see Xilivicus stretching out the mat. She swallowed a anxious lump in her throat as she softly asked, "… have you ever tasted an apple?"

The Dremora froze as he was about to roll out the top of the mat. He bowed his head with a scowl, "… no I haven't." He answered after a moment of consideration.

The Elf picked up a second apple whose gleam seemed dull in this dim lighting. With a weak smile sheltered on her face, she said, "I think that you would like them."

He glanced away knowing this was another one of her attempts to get into a conversation with him. Even after being a hostage, being in Broga's interrogation, and getting in a physical fight with a Daedra… she still wanted to be an acquaintance to him. He stood up and turned around with a bothered look. Possibly, if he just tried one damn apple, she would be off his case. He strode over and swiped the apple from her hand soon holding it up to his lips and taking a great bite. The juice flowed over his lips and dribbled down his chin.

The crunch seemed like a great explosion in Xilivicus's mind. As the taste began to swirl in his mouth he pulled the apple away and glanced at it. The emerald color of it seemed even brighter now. A new world of food began to open for him. Reluctantly; he muttered, "… good."

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly and questioned, "What did you say?"

He turned and looked at her with an almost annoyed glare, "I said… it's good."

She looked up at him and saw pieces of apple on his lips, the juice rolling down his neck and beginning to soil his ruined shirt. The Elf stood and giggled, "You're making a mess."

He took another great bite of the apple. More juice rolling down his square jaw. With a full mouth, he grumbled, "Swo, mwyabe I… wanna."

Elizabeth sighed deeply and gave her head a good shake in disagreement. She lifted her sleeve and pressed it against his lips soon wiping the juice and apple chunks away. "It's not very attractive."

Xilivicus snorted and shrugged soon glancing back to the mat that still needed to be fixed for sleeping, "Well, possibly you haven't noticed but I'm not the attractive type." He kneeled by the mat and with the apple placed in his mouth he unfolded the rest of it, preparing it for Elizabeth.

The girl looked him over with narrowed eyes and a sympathetic frown. She glanced back to the strawberries and smiled, "If you think the apple is good, you'll absolutely fall in love with the strawberries."

Xilivicus frowned, "… love?"

The smile that was lingering upon the girl's face began to disappear. "… yes. It means… that if you like the apple then you'll really like the strawberry."

The Dremora nodded and remained silent until he was finished setting up a little area for her. Four books were piled next to the mat with an unlit golden candle on top of them. A small empty cup was beside the other side of the mat, in case Elizabeth needed water at any time at night. Xilivicus stood up and looked over his own little masterpiece. He kept a strict face and as he turned to Elizabeth he saw a large red object right in front of his eyes. He blinked a few times and pulled back, "… what are you doing?"

Elizabeth grinned as she held the strawberry up to his face, "Giving you a strawberry. Go on and take a bite. I promise it's very good."

He sighed and looked it over warily. Indeed, the apple was rather good and he was sure that he would like more human food. For all his life he had to eat roasted Clannfear or remaining parts of corpses. However, there was something about Elizabeth that made him want to… pull away and keep a distance. There was this feeling inside of him… that almost seemed ashamed to be around her.

"Go on," she urged.

He narrowed his eyes and gave her his wary glance, "… if I eat this will you promise to not speak to me until after you rest?"

She agreed and he leaned forward and opened his mouth inhaling the entire strawberry. Elizabeth frowned and scolded, "You weren't supposed to eat the top of it!"

Xilivicus frowned while he began chewing. The sweetness overpowered the apple taste and a chilling sensation rolled down his throat as he swallowed parts of the strawberry, "The what?" He questioned while still chewing.

"The top!" She groaned, "The green part! You weren't supposed to eat it."

Suddenly, he began to chew into the top part and his face began to twist as the taste began to soil the sweetness. His face twisted and he stuck out his tongue a few times in disgust, "Eck," he groaned while swallowing. "Why did it taste so bad?"

Elizabeth smiled, "The top tastes awful, that's why I was holding onto it for you so you wouldn't eat it." The faces that Xilivicus made reminded her of Bromus. Her Nord butler used to make all sorts of odd faces to get her to smile when she was sad. She remembered when her father had yelled at her and she was hiding under the stairs crying. Bromus had poked his big nose around the corner and she began laughing as he made funny noises and faces.

The Elf began laughing at this flashback of her childhood. The man's facial expressions weren't helping her situation either. She held her hands up to her mouth as she began to laugh. Her eyes turned to crescent moons and her bright beautiful smile seemed to brighten the entire room. Her sweet laughter startled the tower walls who only knew of crying and moaning.

Xilivicus watched her with curious eyes as she laughed. What was she doing? Her cheeks became pinked and she covered her mouth laughing. Suddenly, she inhaled deeply through her nose and she snorted. Her eyes grew wide and her face turned even pinker. The Dremora frowned and then chortled a smile soon pulling across his face. Elizabeth began laughing at herself with her hands over her mouth and nose, "Stop laughing at me!" She weakly laughed in embarrassment while her cheeks turned to a bright red.

"I'm not." He chuckled with a bright smile.

"Then what are you doing right now?" She questioned.

Slowly his laughing stopped and his smile began to fade as well. The mood suddenly changed for him and the lighthearted moment was over. He coughed and then said, "… get some rest. When you awake we will have much business to attend to."

Elizabeth frowned and looked at him. Was he frightened to laugh? His eyes looked so distant now as though he turned off his emotions and all communications to himself. The girl walked to her mat and took off her cape and corset soon placing it down beside the mat. She didn't want to ruin her skirts, but she didn't want to remove her clothes before Xilivicus either. Even though it was hard to bear, she laid down on the mat, fully dressed, and pulled the pale emerald cover over herself. The warmth of the blanket embracing her unlike the coldness that loomed outside the tower.

Xilivicus turned to the ramps and right as he was to make his descent, Elizabeth called out, "… thank you, sir, for providing for me and even talking with me."

The Dremora bowed his heavy head and answered, "… Xilivicus."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow as she sat up, "What?"

He glanced over his toned shoulder, his long spiked ears perking as he said, "… you may call me Xilivicus."

The Elf smiled, "You can call me Elizabeth then."

The Dremora dropped his gaze and repeated her, "Elizabeth… Elizabeth," the name was very different for him. He never heard anything relatively like that before. "… Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Goodnight, Xilivicus," she replied with a short nod.

The Dremora then made his descent, worries plaguing his mind. He knew that even if Elizabeth attempted to escape that she wouldn't be able to. The body crushing platform had been lowered and where he was going he was certain that if she tried to leave he would hear her.

Xilivicus slipped out onto the wastes of Oblivion, his booted feet hitting the bridge with an odd softness. The cold wind blew upon him as his orange eyes lifted to the horizon. He only saw lava flowing around a speck of land. A frown lay upon his face as he began to look back upon his first laugh. He had never felt so warm back there. His chest felt light and his head felt like it weighed no more than an ounce. His mind wasn't absent and his tongue was not spitting out foul words of hatred. He was… at peace.

He bowed his head and though even deeper. Love; what was that? She had mentioned it only once and immediately it had gotten his attention. Love… what an odd word. Why hadn't he ever heard it before? His mind began to stretch beyond its limits and he began to remember when he last heard that word. Nocturnal had said it. She was mentioning her followers who loved the darkness as much as she had. Yes, he now remembered.

… But that was when he was a higher official in Lord Dagon's court. When he was—the memory fluttered out of his head and he could only see a black abyss of nothingness. His eyes opened and he stared off to the lava. Suddenly, the blackness began to fill in and he saw Elizabeth's face. The moment she had snorted caused his heart to laugh. A small smile pulled on his lips. This feeling… he said to himself… why am I smiling? I have absolutely no reason to smile. He suppressed the smile and bowed his head even more.

Elizabeth was the first ever mortal that he had ever met.

She was also the only one that seemed to care.

He raised his head and looked up at the crimson sky. Thunder rolled and lightning pierced through the skies. The worst was to come… and he was certain that it was looming on his horizon.

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**_Thank you for reading! R&R_**


	4. Window of the Past: Xilivicus' Beginning

_**I update fast. I know. Because I too want to know what's going to happen. I usually don't plan out my writing… it doesn't work for me. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading and I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you again for reading! Enjoy!

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_**-+-**_

A heavy cup slammed down upon a great black table, grog spilling over the rim and staining into the glass itself. Broga lowered his eyes to his drink with a frustrated glare. His reflection glared back at him with a level of hatred that matched his glare. He sighed deeply and heard a hissing voice from in front of him. "Commander Broga the Great who led the armies into Kvatch and took over in merely a few minutes," his bloodshot eyes slowly rose to a great figure in the darkness. The siren's voice making chills roll down his spine. Three great slender legs came from the darkness, jagged like spikes. "All Dremora shall honor his name as a King among beggars and yet," the spider's legs clawed against the ground sending the vixen's body forward, a smirk curling across her pale lips, "you are sitting here alone… drinking your sadness away."

Broga lifted the cup to his lips with a scoff, "I need my peace to plan."

The Spider Daedra moved forward around the table. Her skinny arms crossed before her with a wondering look dazzling in her eyes, "Something is bothering you, Commander Broga." The hissing seductive woman said attentively.

Broga placed down his jug and glanced off. His lips were pursed as he thought deeper into the matter. He was a force not to be reckoned with. All Daedra cowered before him as though he were Lord Dagon himself. His hair, which was as black as jet, fell to his crimson eyes as he bowed his head. The situation that clouded his mind was that of the Elven maid and Xilivicus. She was very rebellious with him; however, when Broga was around her she seemed very tamed. The behavior of a human fascinated him. Surely, his hands were tainted by the blood of his prisoners and by the blood of his enemies. But this creature, Elizabeth, seemed so complex and surely her blood would be the sweetest of blood that would ever stain his body. "… it's nothing, now leave me be."

The Spider Daedra tossed her eyes over Broga a few times. His posture was tense and his facial expression seemed bothered down to the core. "As you wish, sir," she purred as she turned and vanished within the darkness.

Broga's jagged nails caressed the rim of his jug as his mind slipped deeper into thought. _She is by far the most talented and educated human I have seen. There were scholars in her group who surpassed her by far in age and yet she exposed more knowledge then all combined. Perhaps, she has more then history to tell us about her people. Perhaps, she could expose us to far new ideas and methods that might led us into the destruction of Tamerial. _

The Dremora smirked as he took yet another drink of his grog. He gave off a satisfied sigh and nodded, "… I think we might need another interrogation."

A chuckle protruded from his eerie jagged tooth smirk as his mind fell deeper into darkness as he planned.

-+-

A soft moan came from Elizabeth as she awoke and greeted the new morning. However, she couldn't even tell if it was morning for the sky looked precisely the same. She arose with a messier hairstyle than normal. She rubbed her eyes furiously and as the blurriness disappeared she saw three Daedra looking over her. Her eyes widened immensely as she conjured a voice to herself, "… excuse me…?"

The Daedra chuckled and gave each other glances. A foreign language was muttered off in between the three of them as they tossed their sinful eyes her way. Elizabeth sat up even more and backed up into the wall that her pallet was by. She swallowed down wariness and called out, "Xilivicus? Are you there?"

One Dremora with chilled ice hair crossed his brawny arms and sighed, "Poor little human, so naïve yet soiled with her race's blood that flows through her veins."

The Dremora next to him with curled red hair chuckled and elbowed him, "Being the decent servants that we are… we would be all too obliged to relieve her of the suffering caused by being a filthy human."

Elizabeth's heart began to pound heavily and she could feel bullets of sweat begin to form on her forehead and chest. The last Dremora chuckled and leaned down to give her a good glance. The Elf pulled away and glanced to the ramps where Xilivicus would be. "She's far too pale and scrawny… what good of a fight would she put up?"

"She wouldn't," purred the first Daedra, "That's the point."

The three cackled like animals and as the middle one removed a dagger from his black belt, a deep royal purple claw snatched his shoulder and ripped him backwards. Elizabeth could hardly see past the Daedra to see her guard standing fully erect and full of a blazing hatred. His tongue snapped and his voice cooed as he snarled in his native language. His swift hand snatched the dagger from his fellow Dremora and he tossed it aside.

The other two Daedra turned and encircled Xilivicus with glares. They all soon began to scream at one another shaking fists and shoving each other away. Xilivicus pointed at Elizabeth and snapped at the Daedra soon pushing past them and standing between the High Elf and the eccentric Daedra. He held his head high and held up his hands in an offering gesture. His body language was the only thing that Elizabeth could decipher: Who wants to fight first?

The Daedra whispered curses and soon left the tower keep, their tails in between their legs. Xilivicus threw his hand in the air and shouted at them as they left. Elizabeth rose to her feet and asked him, "What did you say to them to make them leave?"

He turned around and looked down at her. Her long silver hair was loose from its bondages and hung in her face as she looked up at him with those large diamond shaped questioning eyes. Xilivicus glanced over his shoulder knowing they had departed the tower. "I told them not to harm you, that it was upon Broga's orders to keep you safe and that I was your guard and was to protect you."

Elizabeth nodded softly and looked away, "Thank you; I wasn't really sure what they were going to do."

"They are cowards and only pick upon creatures smaller and weaker then they are. Do not fear, I'm here to keep you safe." He said with a comforting nod.

"Good," she sighed; relieved. She leaned down and straightened her skirts and then looked up at him, "I am in need of bathing and new clothes."

Xilivicus nodded and walked over and snatched a bag of clothing for her. "I will take you to the grand tower, then. Do not wander far off or Broga will have my head and even your head upon a silver platter."

She promised and quickly followed him as he led her out of the tower.

-+-

"Didja hear that he might be developing human feelings for tha' girl," whispered a Dremora to a fellow Kynmarcher who happened to stop by when he was walking back to his post. "That's what Xollas, Brin, and Zaraiv say. They all are Kynreeves and he bossed them around and told them never to get near that girl again or he'd slaughter them all."

"That Churl is too new to know his left horn from his right. He mighta been serving Lord Dagon in his court but now he's just a pathetic useless Churl," the Kynmarcher snarled with hateful eyes. "You better watch your tongue, too, Kynval; if Broga heard that sort of talk when you're on duty he'll turn you into a Clannfear and feast upon your innards."

"Bah, what rot," snarled the Kynval, "… well, well, if it ain't the Churl and his maiden now."

The Kynmarcher gave a fiery glare to his fellow Dremora while hissing, "Hold your tongue, you pest. If she was anyone's maiden, it would be Broga's."

The two Daedra watched as Xilivicus led Elizabeth into the main area. On their first entering, Elizabeth grabbed her mouth in amazement as she saw a cyclone of hellfire swirl up, up, up through the roof of the tower. How far did it go? She questioned herself. Xilivicus glared at his brother Daedra, he snorted and took Elizabeth by the arm and led her away. She glared at him and he whispered to her, "I can't just let you walk; I need to force you around."

Elizabeth scowled and watched as he led her through a few doors. The corridors were all long and twisting and the walls smelled of fresh blood and burning corpses. She didn't want to know of the other rooms in this tower filled with death. "Are we almost there?" whispered she.

Xilivicus looked back at her and nodded, "Yes, Elizabeth, we are."

There was something about him saying her name that made her chest burn away all the worries and doubt and instead hope replaced it. He held her close to him as they walked through these ebon corridors. A few mages gave Xilivicus dirty looks as he passed with a human girl. However, the Dremora just kept the girl tightly in his grasp making sure no harm ensued her.

As they walked past the drinking hall a voice called out to them in the Daedric language. Xilivicus froze and slowly turned his head around. Elizabeth looked up to him with a frown, "What is it?"

"Broga," he whispered.

Elizabeth quickly closed her mouth as the Daedric Prince walked out of the drinking hall. He smiled down upon them and crossed his burly arms before him. His face and body was clean of sweat and blood. His skin color was now a dark midnight blue, this was very visible for his stained shirt had been removed and his built torso was revealed. Tattoos were marked all over his body, different designs symbolizing different things. His long jet hair was not completely pulled back from his strong face and a few strands cascaded down like leaves from an autumn tree. "Maiden… I was just thinking about you. I believe that it is time we have another nice little talk. There are still many more things that I long to know."

Xilivicus stood before Elizabeth, seemingly to block the way. The Churl bowed his head and said, "If I may intrude, sir-"

"No," Broga interrupted him in mid-sentence, "you may not."

Xilivicus glared at his superior and knew that he must hold his tongue. He merely bowed his head fully and curled his firm hands into solid fists. Elizabeth could hardly look up at Broga; his mere essence was an eccentric evil that almost burned her very eyes. However, his crimson eyes were captivating and paralyzed her like she was his prey. The Superior Dremora began easily, "I believe that I have more questions for you, human girl. They do not involve much of Tamerial, however. When shall you be ready?"

Elizabeth cleared her throat and answered, "In a few minutes, I would like to freshen myself up and clear my mind of any worries or doubts first. Would that be alright, sir?"

Broga pursed his lips and sighed deeply through his flared nostrils. He pondered the thought then finally agreed. He wouldn't want to be with her if she smelled like Clannfear sweat or looked as disgusting as a Tamerial flower. "Be back soon, I won't wait long for you."

The barbarian sneered at the Churl and turned around and walked back into the drinking hall. Elizabeth's eyes rose to his back where she saw black long tribal designs tattooed upon his back. They amazed her and captured her icy blue gaze. Xilivicus took her by the arm and quickly pulled her down the hall, "Come… we must get you prepared."

Elizabeth was snapped from her spell and quickly followed her guard.

-+-

"Elizabeth," a man seated at a bar muttered. He glanced down at a roughly drawn picture. He then looked up and questioned, "You want me to… what?"

Count Jerald narrowed his wintry eyes and said, "You are the Champion of the Arena, you are the Master of the Fighter's Guild, you are Arch-Mage of the damn Arcane University as well! I need you to go to Kvatch and find my daughter!"

The Hero turned his dark woodland eyes back to his drink. His curled locks were falling into his face as he bowed his head to think. His locks were the color of the midday sunrays; bright gold. He leaned back and took the last chug of his ale. He slammed down the goblet and glanced over with a smile, "So where's this lass, anyway?"

Jerald furrowed his brow and looked away with saddened eyes, "Possibly somewhere in Kvatch. There were rumors of people inside the Chapel. I suppose that she would be one of them. Please, I beg you to save her. She's my own daughter and she's the heir to my name. I will pay you beyond your wildest dreams—gold, silver, rubies, diamonds… name the price and I shall pay it."

The Hero pushed his sun kissed hand up to his firm square jaw where he rubbed there furiously. Oblivion would be his toughest quest yet. All the training that he had accomplished at the guilds and even in the Arena had prepared him for this moment. He hadn't found a monster or problem in Cyrodiil that he hadn't conquered. The two options were weighing in his mind upon a golden scale. Before he made his decision, he turned to the bothered Count and said, "… this girl, Isabella-"

"Elizabeth," interrupted Jerald.

"Sure, whatever," the hero pressed on, "Elizabeth… she must be the eldest of your children. I have heard about your sons and I know they are reaching the middle of teenhood. How old is she?"

"She's turning twenty-one, soon." Jerald answered in almost incredulity. It felt like just yesterday she was only a little girl.

"Ah! The golden age… her last year to be wed and become the new Countess. I suppose that you have a line of suitors already waiting to be her husband, hmm?" One of his dark eyebrows perched high on his forehead.

Jerald gave him a perplexed glance, "… yes… there are many in line. Her mother and I are looking for the best to take care of her and become the new Count. Hopefully someone strong and intelligent, brave and religious… just like-"

"—like a Hero?" questioned the man who then smiled brightly with a deviant twinkle waltzing in his dark woodland eyes.

-+-

Xilivicus watched as the citadel doors pulled open a sick sliding noise soon following. He glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth and then said, "There is a bathing area in there," he pulled out of his pocket perfumes and oils, "I found these in Kvatch… I guessed that you would have need of them, hmm?"

Elizabeth smiled and took them as he handed them to her. The brightly colored mauve bottles gleamed in the vague light given off by phenomenon fiery lights coming from within the walls. "Thank you very much," she said. "Do you have clothing that I could use?"

The Dremora nodded and replied, "I will go fetch you my black robe. I have no need for it. Please hurry, Broga is a very impatient being."

Elizabeth gave a nod of acknowledgement and she rushed into the room, the doors soon closing behind her. Xilivicus turned and quickly made his way to the living quarters. Silence walked beside him as he made his journey. His lips almost seemed sewed together. He could hear his own cold heart begin to beat within his mind like clockwork.

_Tick-tock…tick-tock…tick-tock… _

His eyes relaxed as this hypnotizing melody captured his attention. He could only see a blur as he walked down the darkened ramps. He saw many Daedra walk past him and give him wary glances. They all knew his name. He was not an unknown Churl here. He heard whispering from behind him as he entered the living quarters.

"Is that him? The Dagon prodigy?" whispered one Dremora.

The Kynreeve next to him whispered back, "Yeah, that's him. I heard that Lord Dagon took him from the realm of Nocturnal and turned him into a Dremora so Nocturnal could never find her beloved knight of darkness who would be used in a plot to overthrow Lord Dagon."

The Dremora leaned closer and whispered, "I heard back before history began, Lord Dagon and Dibella, the so-called Goddess of Beauty, were great enemies and in an attempt to prove who was greater, Dibella swept away one of the grand court members and changed his frightful appearance to one of beauty. This would anger Lord Dagon. Mara, the Goddess of Love, changed his heart to match a human's heart so that he would never kill and only care. Lord Dagon, in all his fury and rage, banished him from his court and placed him here to serve as a low pathetic Churl."

Xilivicus kept walking. He learned by now to ignore their words and comments. Even if their stories were dipped partially in truth.

Great spikes protruded through the ash-colored walls of the living quarters. Stain glass windows of crimson gave off an eerie light. A hanging torch was in the middle of the room. A few resting Daedra lay in slots in the walls, like burial crypts. They had no accessories to their little bed chambers. They only lay there in their trousers and when they awoke they would climb down pegs in the wall and pick up their armor and go back to their duties.

The Dremora opened a black chest and rummaged through his weapons and things to find a black robe. As he picked it up he saw a glittering object lying on the bottom of the chest. His fiery orange eyes fell down and he saw a golden necklace of rope and a flower pendant. His eyes narrowed as he thought back, long ago.

Yes, he remembered.

Mara danced around him, her golden rope fluttering in the air like a ribbon as it wrapped loosely around his neck, "The blessing of Love. A love like this rope. Even though it may take the longest time to weave the strings it will make a tough sturdy fondation for you to build anything off of," she had once said to him.

As Dibella finished molding his face she stepped back with a beautiful smile. Her fingertips rose and caressed past his royal purple skin. His face seemed almost angelic. His eyelids fluttered open and fire engulfed his irises turning them a warm pumpkin orange. Dibella pulled out the snow white flower from her robe and placed it upon his golden necklace. It soon melted onto the gold and turned to a flower pendant, "The blessing of Beauty," she purred. "This necklace shall show your destructive Lord Dagon of your new birthright. Wear it proudly, my son. The Divines shall be with you all your life and will lead you into victory over your monsters."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. In his lifetime he had never felt love or beauty for his birthright was a beast and a beast he had become. He had given up so many eons ago that he had almost forgotten the trinket given to him by the Goddesses. He leaned down and scooped it into his palm. He watched the glittering of the gold and realized that this memento only brought up painful and sad memories. He scoffed and before he could place it back into his chest he heard someone calling for him.

"Hey, Churl," snarled a Kynreeve, "why don't you get back to your little princess? I bet she's waiting for you to return to her like the filthy mutt you are"

Xilivicus bit the inside of his cheek and said, "Yes, sir." He kicked his chest closed and soon stormed off up the stairs, whispering curses beneath his breath.

He absolutely loathed being treated like such an animal. The Clannfear and Daedroths were hardly inferior to him. They were almost classified into the same group according to every other Daedra here. The Dremora rounded the corner, cradling the black robe in his hands. Damn this place, he hissed to himself, damn this place into the darkest of voids.

The Citadel doors opened and he rushed in without much thought. After a few steps in he immediately froze. His eyes grew wide and he nearly dropped the robe he was carrying as he took witness of the subject before him.

Elizabeth's head swirled around as she heard Xilivicus's noisy entrance. She was facing away from him with nearly her whole body exposed. Her toffee colored panties was all that she was wearing. Her hands flew up and crossed over chest soon grasping the opposite shoulder. Her long silver hair was drenched with the used water that was in the bathing tub. Her entire form was rather slender and pure like snow. Droplets of water rolled down her back and Xilivicus extraordinarily couldn't look away. His eyes absorbed this image for he had never seen such a smooth and pure living thing before. Suddenly he had snapped to it and he turned away with a cough, "Pardon my intrusion… I… I wasn't really thinking when I came here."

Elizabeth hurriedly scooped up her clothes and covered herself. A pinked blush rushing to her cheeks as she stuttered, "N-No, it's fine. I understand. D-Do you have the robe?"

Xilivicus held out his arm with the robe grasped in his hand. His eyes were clenched closed as he told her, "Yes, I had no trouble at all finding it."

Elizabeth pulled on her brassiere and quickly made her way over to take the robe. She pulled it over her head and it fit rather loosely. It smelled of firewood and she was reminded of Kvatch evenings with her mother resting on the couch and her father reading books near the fireplace. Her heart became weary and she became homesick. She pulled her hair through with her. "Thank you for letting me borrow this robe," she said, "It's very kind of you."

The Dremora frowned and bowed his head. "… You may keep it. I said I had no further use for it."

Elizabeth nodded and bowed her head as she tucked her hair bondages inside the pockets of the robe. She felt her fingertips touch something cold and she frowned as she pulled out a golden necklace. The flower pedant gleamed and she gave it a cautious glance. How could something so beautiful end up with a Daedra?

"You better head off to Broga. He'll probably be waiting for you and by now he'll doubtlessly be very edgy."

The maiden nodded, returning the necklace inside the depths of the pocket. She quickly walked past Xilivicus and out of the bathing area. As she passed, a fragrance followed her and ignited Xilivicus's nostrils. He watched her and then called out to her. She stopped and looked back at him. Her eyes as bright as ever as he said, "I will walk you there. I don't want anyone to come by and hurt you like those Daedra tried this morning."

Elizabeth looked taken back and she smiled as he past her and began leading her, "Do you actually care about me, sir Xilivicus?"

The Dremora stopped and nodded, "Yes, I do."

Elizabeth's smile faded and she watched the back of his head. She saw his long horns wave over his head and as he bowed his head slightly she could see how long and pointed they were. He then glanced over his shoulder and said, "Come along, we can't keep Broga waiting any longer."

Elizabeth bowed her own head in disbelief. Had he just said that or was it sarcasm? Maybe her mind was playing tricks upon her. She closed her agape mouth and quickly followed behind him as he led her to Broga. So many things were being revealed, how long was it to be before their own lies stopped hiding the inevitable truth?

_**-TBC- **__**

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_**Thanks for reading! This one took a lot of research so I should have another chapter up this week or so. God Bless you all for reading, I really appreciate it. R&R to tell me your opinions and maybe I just might use some suggestions if anyone gives me some.**_


	5. Return to Kvatch: Sinful Desires

_**I wonder if anyone is worried that this might be a reverse Harem scenario. If you don't know what it is, don't bother.

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_**-+-**_

The footsteps across the cold limestone floors sounded like a fastened heartbeat that echoed down the cold empty halls. Xilivicus walked in silence still pondering his thoughts from before. The image of Elizabeth wearing nothing but her undergarments scorched and consumed his mind. The clarity was unrealistic as though it appeared that he was merely looking through a glass at her. The maiden followed quickly behind him as her own thoughts stormed through the depths of her mind.

The silence was so distressing to be in. Both man and woman quickly resorted to their anxiety as the silence continued. Elizabeth was first to act upon her thoughts. _This day possibly couldn't get any worse. First I am nearly slaughtered down by monsters, then my guard catches me in practically nothing, and now I have to talk to Broga again! How much more could he possibly want from me? _Her brow furrowed and her soft eyelids fell partially over her eyes as she fell deeper into thought. Her hand slipped into her pocket and she pulled out the golden necklace. Her eyes glanced over it a few times and quickly she put it around her neck hoping that such a familiar item would soothe her soul.

Xilivicus continued walking; the sound of Elizabeth's footsteps became isolated echoes outside his hard shell of a body. His chest rose immensely as he took in a deep breath then let out a frustrated sigh. _Broga had not even announced this new interrogation. As if—he had just came up with the idea. That is truly not like him at all. _The Dremora rounded through a steep dim staircase. _He has seemed so odd and bothered for a while now, ever since Dagon had ordered us into Kvatch to aid in the conquest._

"Xilivicus," Elizabeth whispered out into the silence.

Her voice made a ripple affect through the air and soon it had appeared that the maiden's voice surrounded the Dremora. He quickly turned around and looked at her. She looked so collected and submissive. He could see how effortlessly it was going to be for Broga to worm information out of her. "…yes?"

"… About earlier," she began as her mind was still placing the question together like a puzzle, "… about caring for me…"

Xilivicus furrowed his brow as he conjured up an excuse. A few were denied because the believability of them was completely absurd. "Don't fancy that it means I actually care," he snapped with hostility, "It means that by protecting you I protect myself."

Elizabeth was taken back and her face iced over with anger, "so really, it is not about me. It's just about protecting your own hide—is that it?"

"Why would _I_ care for _you_?" His fiery eyes shot her down and she almost recoiled from his gaze.

She bit into her small heart shaped lips and breathed slowly through her nostrils. Her soul was raging inside of her. He was so cruel, then he showed kindness, then he returned to his normal state. Oh, how she would never understand a Daedra! She refused to answer his question even if it was rhetorical. Xilivicus turned round and led her even further. Her hands were held before her and she pressed her right index finger into the back of her hand in anger. Certainly this day could not get any worse…

-+-

Broga poured himself another glass with a smirk. His mind worked like a conveyer belt. One idea was brought forward and to it, he had added much more things to it until it became a question he wanted to ask the Elf. The final product came out and he chuckled. How wonderful it was going to be to finally figure out more about these… humans.

Unworldly silver eyes protruded through the darkness of the corners and ceiling and a voice chimed out, "You suddenly have taken a change of attitude."

"Events have turned around," he said as if the person had always been there, "there is still hope for her yet."

The Spider Daedra lowered herself. Her head tilted forward and her whole headdress was recognizable. "You speak of the Elf, I presume," she purred. "You toy with her just like all your other prey; however, she appears… different. You have a fancy for her, hmm?"

Broga chuckled and his lips came agape slightly to flaunt his jagged teeth, "The Elves never cease to astound me."

"What about the Orcs whose skin is as green as jealously? Or maybe the Argonians who shriek when you pull off their scales one… by… one…?"

The Prince snorted and took another drink. He had consumed much alcohol; however, he did not fear becoming drunk. He knew how much was too much. He had drunk enough to hold a resistance to becoming intoxicated completely. "Those creatures are fun to torture. Orcs are good slaves in battles, Imperials are the worst of them all… but the Elves hold so much for us that we could use to finally capture Tamerial for ourselves."

The Spider Daedra's eyebrows lifted, her black lips pouting as she considered this, "Yes, the Elves are the longest line of the races and they do possess an almost infinite knowledge of everything… but-"

"—but?" questioned Broga with a snarl and narrowed crimson eyes.

The Spider Daedra watched his anger consume his entire body. She softly retreated to the door. As she did this she had muttered, "Oh, it is nothing to worry about, sir." She scampered down the hall just as Xilivicus and Elizabeth had arrived.

The Elf walked faster and soon caught up with her escort. Her petite cold fingers touched his shoulder and she could automatically feel a burst of heat. She gasped and recoiled her hand in surprise. The Dremora turned and looked at her, "… what?"

"I…I…" she lost her train of thought.

He slowly narrowed his eyes and sighed. As he was about to move forward he saw a glitter of gold dangling down from her neck. His curious eyes fell down to her neckline where his necklace was. Immediately, he had frozen. His muscles began to tense as he thought back to the living quarters and how he had forgotten to put the necklace away. "… why are you wearing that?" He wheezed.

"Wearing what?" She questioned; unknowingly.

He moved forward and she stepped back. They acted as positive magnets and each time he stepped closer to her she was repelled. He finally seized her and pushed her upon the wall. His firm hands grasping tightly upon her upper arms where he felt barely any muscle. She winced and he leaned particularly close. His slit pupils turned to hardly a line as he saw the flower of Dibella and the golden rope of Mara. She couldn't possibly have noticed the trinkets given to him by the Goddesses. "Remove it," he demanded harshly.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what he was talking about; the robe! Her cheeks inflamed and she glanced away, "Right here?!"

One of his hands pulled away from her arm and seized her jaw soon turning it back to him. Their faces were closer then they ever have been before. "Remove it now or I shall rip it from you!" He snarled.

Elizabeth turned a brighter red as she felt his hot breath rush down her soft slender neck. His burly body practically pressed against hers as he demanded for her to remove her robe! How disgraceful! How barbaric! How… alluring…

Xilivicus glared heavily at her. His eyes were ripping through her skin and tearing apart her eternal soul. His hands reached around her and pulled her even closer. Elizabeth gasped softly as she felt his body form over hers. Her brow rose as she could smell his personal aroma which smelt of a fresh breeze and a hint of lettuce. For once in her life she had felt another's heart beat into her own chest. Her eyes fluttered and she felt his long fingernails scratch into the back of her neck. She sighed and suddenly he shoved her backwards. She hit the wall relentlessly and coughed a little seeing the necklace hanging from one of his fists.

She blinked wildly then realized that was what he was talking about the entire time. A wave of stupidity rushed over her and the Dremora growled, "If I catch you wearing this again I shall go against Broga's orders and kill you myself."

"I'm sorry—I found it in one of the robe pockets and… and I thought… I guessed…"

"That's right," he barked, "you only guessed! You did not know if you should truly wear it or not! How greedy you foul humans are! The moment you see gold you take it for yourself!"

Her brow puckered and she moved forward, "No, that's not it! I didn't imagine you caring! It was just a necklace!"

"It's not _just_ a necklace," he spat while moving even closer. His fists were trembling and his black heart was pounding within his chest. "It's—"

"Xilivicus…" purred a dark voice, "… I've been waiting for you to return my maiden to me."

The Churl glared up to see Broga leaning upon the doorway. His stern yet calm eyes were staring him down in his moment of rage. Xilivicus bowed his head and glanced away as the Prince bid the Elf towards him. Elizabeth rubbed her neck softly as she stepped over to Broga. Her big wondering eyes lifted up and the Prince smirked, "Come along with me, maiden."

The High Elf glared back at her guard who was giving her a corner glare. His dark lips pursed as he watched her walk off with his commander. The guard turned and hit a column standing nearby. At collision, fragments of stone blew off and a dust billowed through the air. He snarled and stalked off down the hall.

Elizabeth turned ahead and looked up at Broga who towered one to two feet over her. His hand rose and pushed thick locks of jet back from his face. His crimson eyes glanced sideways and he saw the Elf. He chuckled and said, "Well… I suppose your day has been enjoyable?"

A frown burdened her lips as she thought back to all the awful events that had already happened and she hadn't been awake for more then a few hours. A lying tongue hid behind her teeth as she muttered off, "Yes, sir."

He overlooked her to see her head bowed. How alarmed she was towards him… so submissive like the slave that she was. He walked up a staircase and soon they had come to the main room of the tower. Elizabeth once again marveled at the swirl of inferno that lifted high up into the tower. Broga led her out onto the planes of Oblivion and he sighed as the cold air hit his face. "… first question," he announced while continuing to walk down the path to the Oblivion gate, "what is your main source of power?"

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, "Power?"

Broga nodded and looked forward, "… Power… the power of which enables you to fight. Magic, personal strength, your mind… which is it?"

Elizabeth followed him quickly her mind searching its banks of knowledge, "We use it all."

Broga stopped and looked back, "… all?" He questioned with wondering eyes, "Are you not born to only one power?"

The Elf shook her head, "We summon the power to us. If we wish to fight with personal strength we train our bodies, if we want to fight with magic we stretch our mind and buy spells or scrolls to cast magic. As for mind, I'm sure that all you need to do is read logical material and force yourself to become clever."

"… I see," The Dremora raised an eyebrow as he unsheathed a dagger upon his belt. The metal scraped across the hard scabbard causing an eerie noise. Elizabeth's eyes widened and the Dremora pointed to the Oblivion Gate with his dagger, "… go through it."

Elizabeth tossed her gaze up and saw a great gate looming over the two of them. Some fire sparks flew from the portal and disappeared in the air. The Elf gulped down anxiety and she walked forward, Broga following behind her. As she approached the gate her trembling hand rose and touched the water-like portal. Her fingertips slipped through and disappeared upon the other side. She took in a deep breathe and quickly leapt through. A noise around her startled her as it sounded like lightning and overwhelmed her like the waves crashing upon the beach. She soon was spit out of the mouth of the gate and landed upon the cobblestone ground of Kvatch.

A heavy dark rain fell from the Heavens and pounded down upon her. She slowly opened her eyes as she could smell the sweet mountain air of Kvatch. A grin spread across her face and her head pushed up and she looked upon the beauty of her—

The smile quickly faded and her pupils vanished within a sea of blue as she looked upon her city. Dead bodies were piling up outside the chapel as Fire Atronachs gathered up the remains. The houses were ablaze like the summer sun and the streets were littered with all sort of garbage. The Chapel stumbled back and forth and was soon going to collapse upon itself. Elizabeth's eyes grew warm with tears. Broga appeared behind her, his dark body becoming sleek as the water poured down upon him, "Follow me," he demanded as he walked forward with no worries.

The dead bodies did not bother his mind, the wreckage and ruin lying around him did not even once burden his mind. Did he smile down upon his masterpiece that his armies had made? Elizabeth did not want to put more thought into the matter. She rushed after her commander and stuck nearby. A few Daedroth watched her rush by, their wary eyes gluing upon her until she disappeared through the dark grey mist.

Broga pushed away part of the crumbling Chapel; he turned towards Elizabeth and wrapped an arm around her waist. She gasped as he leapt up and grabbed a hold of part of the Chapel. He stabilized his feet and then leapt over it and landed safely on the other side. He placed the girl down and continued walking. Elizabeth breathed heavily as her wet silver hair fell all around her face. She pushed up a heavy hand and pushed it from her eyes.

Soon, her face turned a ghostly pale as she looked upon the majestic castle that now lay in ruins. Raging fires were upon its roofs and Kynmarchers stood above the gate with bows readied for any unwelcomed guests. Broga strutted across the wet bridge. His eyes rose to his guards and he shouted up to them. His voice carried over the storm and the gates slowly rose.

Broga and Elizabeth hurriedly ran inside to the warm… blazing… main hall. The High Elf looked over the castle interior with a deeply disturbed frown. The beautiful rugs, the glorious drapery, the gold, the silver, the woodwork… it had all been destroyed. The Dremora walked over to a small table put up by one of his guards and he picked up a few scrolls, "Is this what you were talking about… training your magic?"

Elizabeth snapped out of her daze and slowly made her way over to Broga, "… yes… it is."

The Dremora unrolled a scroll and laid it before her, "… tell me what this one is."

The High Elf stood over it with narrowed eyes. The light from the fire and torches surrounding them was almost blinding. "It's a… summoning spell. It summons scamps." She picked up the scroll and continued reading, "It's not that complicated, I'm certain you could do it."

Broga nodded and unrolled another scroll. One after another the Elf told the Dremora what spell was which. He labeled them with a pen lying nearby. He then pulled out bottles found within the castle. There was poison, healing and sorcery potions, and even some brandy. Broga was astounded by how much Elizabeth knew. He leaned upon the wall and listened as she described all the uses of potions. She smiled as she even brought up some personal experiences.

_Obedient… intelligent… strong minded… she is a liable candidate to present to Lord Dagon as a Master of Tamerial. I am pleased with her… very pleased. I suppose that she has yet again earned her stay within Oblivion. _He thought to himself as he watched her begin to explain the uses of different alchemistic ingredients. His crimson eyes narrowed as he focused onto the shape of her body which was revealed with the drench robe. Her long coiling silver hair hung down into her face as she smiled, rearranging the ingredients before her. The Prince's lustful eyes fell down her curves and his mind was soon distorted. _…why hand her off to Dagon who shall only use her for information and naught else? She could be used for so much **better** than that. _Broga shoved himself off the cold sandstone wall and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder. He leaned over her, his hands grasped behind his burly back.

His head was inches from hers. He looked to her and his eyes slowly worked over her body again. "... That shall be enough for today," he purred. "You have worked long and hard. We shall continue this tomorrow."

Elizabeth let out a deep sigh feeling very relieved. She was not very certain that she would be good at explaining common things for her and rare things for them. She put down the tan colored mortar and pestle and turned around. She nearly collided with Broga and as she turned and saw him looming over her, she gasped and nearly fell back upon the table. Her hands supported her as she leaned back and looked up at him. His dark lips twirled up in a smirk as he looked deep within her innocent eyes. "You know, maiden," he purred while leaning closer, "you haven't showed me one thing that I am deeply interested in…"

Elizabeth looked back and forth between his eyes. She saw her own frightened reflection and she gently asked, "A-and what's that, sir?"

He chuckled deeply and leaned closer. His body was almost forcing Elizabeth to lie down upon the old mahogany table. His lips parted and he purred, "Your own anatomy."

The Elf nearly fell completely over as she stuttered, "W-what?"

The Dremora chuckled deeply and placed his hands on either sides of her. He leaned even closer and purred, "Now, now… don't be so naïve. We're both adults here and just because I happen to be a Daedra does not mean I can't… _desire_ something… when I find someone worthy. Ever since I had laid my eyes upon you there was a desire that was burning deep within me… and now that we are alone," his body came even closer, "I may finally silence this desire." The girl's heartbeat called out to Broga and his eyes turned even more to sin.

"Broga… I…I," she stammered while backing even further onto the table. The Dremora hovered over her with a hungry mouth. She tilted her head to a side as Broga came down to taste her soft innocent skin. Her hand grabbed a poison bottle and she swung it up and slammed it into Broga's face. The liquid exploded everywhere and there was a loud crash that made the Elf nearly leap from her skin.

The Dremora cried out and stumbled back in pain; grasping his face. Blood gushed through his fingers as pieces of the bottle pierced through his skin. Elizabeth gasped and quickly ran to the great door as her heart thumped loudly in fear. She hoisted the door open and ran out into the darkness of the day vanishing like a shadow. Broga removed his hands from his face with a deep hateful glare. Blood ran down the left side of his face like water. Poison sank deep within his wounds and tainted his blood; however, he had not worried. He would not be affected to poison as a mortal man would be.

Broga glanced at the table and saw a Daedric longsword lying beside it. He scooped it into his palm and as he grasped tightly to it he dashed to the door. His feet were carrying him upon the air as he charged after Elizabeth… his target… his prey.

_**-TBC-**_

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_**R&R! I hope you enjoyed the twist with Broga, if you don't-- then you can complain to me I won't care. -weak smile-**_


	6. True Confessions

**_Haha… who truly wants Broga to die? I do… I don't like him much either. But I love the triangle and soon… square… that is about to form.

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_**-+-**_

Jerald sat upon the barstool; an utter mess. His once slicked back jet hair was now matted and spiked for he had ran from Kvatch all the way to the Imperial city to find the Hero that he had heard so much about. His wife and sons had left for Anvil where family members would be waiting for them. Jerald's guilty conscious had gotten the better of him and he would not stop until he saw his daughter's face again. Half his gold went to bandits as they robbed him on the paths. He told them of his situation and some bandits were civil enough to make him pay his price for passing through their territory.

The Hero was a strong man, an intelligent man, a great man… he could still hear the deal that they had made between each other.

One of the Hero's lips had twisted up into a half smile as he told his price, "I will save your bonny daughter… if you promise me her hand in marriage."

Jerald had nearly choked upon his own words. He coughed and his eyebrows rose causing wrinkles to form over his forehead, "P-Pardon?" He sputtered.

The Hero sighed deeply and leaned back upon the barstool, "I have accomplished my main goals in life, friend, and even though I have fulfilled my wildest dreams it seems that I'm not really happy. So… I've decided I'm going to try and settle down and the first step is to find a wife. I already have a wonderful home in Cheydinhal with a lovely family who are more or less… servants to me." He couldn't help but to brandish a grin for the thought of his brotherhood. "I can provide your daughter with the loveliest of gifts and riches. I'm not too young or too old for her, and I believe that once she has met me she will be glad we came to this agreement. What say you?"

Jerald's bothered eyes fell to the table and he held up his hand and called to the bartender, "Ale, please."

An old worn out tan cup slid across the table, ale spilling over the brim and staining the counter. Jerald picked it up and guzzled the liquid down. He quickly lost his rich and mighty façade and instead he turned to his barbaric beggar side. A droplet of ale rolled down the corner of his lips as he considered the following; would Elizabeth like him? Is he truly the best for her? Is he a good candidate for her husband? Would he treat her right? All sorts of questions came to his head as he worried about his little girl. His heart ached within him as he thought of leaving her. How foolish were his actions!

The Hero bowed his head slightly with narrowed eyes, "Well, friend?"

Jerald raised his stern eyes and softly he said—

**_-+-_**

_I'm going to die_. Elizabeth screamed within the confinements of her mind. Her feet padded across the cobblestone courtyard of the castle. The rain beat down upon her as if it was upon Broga's side. It held her back and tossed her about like a wave in the ocean. She ran through the gates and the Kynmarchers looked down upon her with wary glances. Where was she running to, they questioned themselves.

Suddenly, Broga burst through the castle doors and the Kynmarchers saw the blood running down his face and mixing with the water. They also saw the sword that trembled within his insufferable grasp. The Kynmarchers all removed the bows from their backs and quickly put an arrow onto the string. Their strong fingers pulled back the arrow and they aimed at Elizabeth with merciless eyes.

Broga saw them and he bellowed up through the raging storm, "Do not hurt her! Do not hurt her! She belongs to me so her punishment shall be by my hand!"

The Kynmarchers lowered their bows with confused eyes. Broga sprinted through the gate with such agility and strength. His legs moved as pistons, one came up and the other one quickly fell soon propelling him through the air. His muscles contracted and bulged through his dark skin. His sleek black figure seemed like a shadow gliding across a wall.

Elizabeth pulled the freezing robe even tighter to her body as she attempted to block out the artic rain that pierced her like needles falling from the sky. Her skin turned to ice and she could hardly see through a grey mist. The chapel came nearer and Elizabeth quickly ran and climbed onto the broken steeple. Her soft padded feet slipped across wet slabs and she nearly fell. Her fingertips dug into nooks and crannies as she pulled herself up with a strength she did not know she had possessed.

Broga watched her climb and as he neared her crouched down lowly and steadied himself. All his muscles contracted and he soon leapt through the air and landed upon the climax of the mountain of chapel rubble. He landed gracefully with the sword clenched tightly in hand. His wicked black hair came loose from its bound and whipped through the air. Droplets of water rolled down his cheeks and licked away the blood that by now had vanished. His eyes pierced through the darkness and as Elizabeth rose to his level he lifted his heavy sword into the air to strike her down.

The maiden lifted her eyes in time to see the sword coming down to break apart her skull like firewood. She lunged to the left side of Broga and as the sword fell it dug through the stone and got caught. Broga snarled as he pulled and pulled attempting to free the blade. His eyes tossed behind him as Elizabeth stumbled down the wreckage. Finally, he had freed the rapier and leapt off the ruins and bellowed to the Fire Atronachs and Daedroth, "Don't let her escape Kvatch! Kill her and it shall be _your_ head mounted upon my wall!"

A few Fire Atronachs watched her run, their bodies soon thrusting through the air after her. The Daedroth shook their giant heads, sending a spray of water flying as they readied themselves to confront her. Elizabeth gasped as she ducked and an Atronach flew over her, attempting to tackle her down. A Daedroth swung at her and its jagged ebon claws pierced her face. She nearly fell at the collision. Stinging tears came to her eyes as droplets of blood formed and quickly rolled down her face.

How foolish it was of her to run. She should have abided to Broga's demand and let him have her. It would be so much better then having to run for her life. Her heart raced within her chest with the power of an army marching into battle. If not for her mind attempting to calm her, her heart would rip her chest apart. As she ran to the Kvatch gate she knew that glancing back would completely petrify her. She was certain that Broga would send all of Oblivion after her. As she ran from the main gate she saw a horde of Daedra standing outside the gate. Immediately, they had turned to her. Swords were quickly drawn and she knew there was no where else to run… except…

Her eyes fell upon the Oblivion gate. Her options was to charge through the Daedra and possibly die, hold up her white flag and let Broga have her, or run even farther into Oblivion praying that there would be a way out of this mess. All of her options seemed absolutely futile; nonetheless, she could not easily give up.

"I said, 'Get her', you fools!" Broga boomed from within Kvatch.

Elizabeth clutched her robes and dashed through the Oblivion portal, soon disappearing from Tamerial for the second time.

_**-+-**_

The planes of Oblivion held silence for the first time in a long time. Xilivicus walked down the great tower steps as he raved on within his mind. His head was throbbing and his heart seemed colder than it had ever been before. The necklace was still grasped within his clutches as he walked further down the lonely path. _That incompetent foolish Elf. _He had snarled in his head. _Who does she think she is? A High and Mighty god? She may be human but that does not mean her race is greater than my own. _In the back of his mind he could hear Dibella whispering to him. Her soothing voice calmed his nerves slightly as she said, "Love to be loved. Give something to receive something in return. Sometimes you must be the first one to make a move."

Xilivicus rolled his tangerine eyes and looked up into the sky. Through rolling crimson clouds he saw the stars and somewhere in his sky he knew his Goddesses were looking over him. "What do you want me to do? I'm a Daedra! Lord Dagon regards love as a forbidden law! Just because one day you decided to get even with my Lord and you claimed me as your own child does not mean I have to obey you! You have no idea what life I live! Do you understand me?!" He bellowed into the sky with firm jaw and stressed eyes which held all the torment he has gone through and will be going through. "Leave me alone, I refuse to be a part of your twisted pious plans."

The voices in his mind slowly died away and he came to a peace. Yet, in his body, his heart began to ache in pain. He felt numb and cold like he had throughout all the days of his life. He bowed his head and as he was about to turn to journey back to his tower, a figure caught his eyes. He slowly looked up to see Elizabeth sprinting at him. Her once silver beautiful hair was now a mangled mess dangling from her pale head. Blood still ran down her cheek and stained the frigid robe she wore. Her breathing was rushed like the winds outside Oblivion and as she saw Xilivicus she nearly collapsed despite of her desire to live.

As the Dremora laid his eyes upon this beautiful disaster he felt his heart explode into a raging fire. The bloodshot eyes of the girl captured him and he saw painful and frightened tears roll down her pinked cheeks. Xilivicus had forgotten himself and all that he had said in the moments before. All he could see was Elizabeth running at him with a wounded and burdened body. "Elizabeth…?" His voice seemed questionable.

As she neared him she leapt into his arms, her eyes clenched tightly as she sobbed. The Dremora gasped as she hugged him tightly, her head buried within his tunic. Her arms entwined around him and grasped the back of his shirt. Her blood and tears absorbed into his shirt as he looked at her in amazement. Her grasp was so tough upon him and her body pressed so tight against him causing him to feel the coldness from the raindrops.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He leaned his head down and rested his chin against the top of her head. His hands rose and fell as her back heaved with each broken breathe. He closed his eyes and held tightly onto her. He wasn't going to let go so easily. "Elizabeth… what happened?"

The girl sobbed and shook her head, "Broga… I-I…. n-n-n-n-n…" she sobbed harder and couldn't even conjure a voice to herself to explain.

The Dremora pulled his head away slightly and tilted her head up looking into her watery crystal eyes. He furrowed his brow and as his lips opened to speak, a voice before him coldly demanded, "Hand her over, Churl."

Xilivicus glanced up to see the beaten face of Broga. He held even tighter onto Elizabeth and quickly asked, "What did you do to her, Broga?" He lost all memory of Broga being a superior for seeing the Elven maiden in such a wreck distorted his mind.

"I'm sure that's none of your business," Broga hissed. His crimson eyes narrowed with vexation. "Now hand her over to me before I kill the both of you."

Elizabeth grasped even tighter into Xilivicus's tunic praying that her guard would finally put his heart upon his sleeve and show her sympathy. The Churl bowed his head and softly grasped the girl's arms and pulled them from his body. The girl's eyes grew wide and slowly Xilivicus pushed her behind him, standing between Broga and the maiden.

The Prince's eyes widened and his face distorted as he snapped, "The penalty for insubordination is death, Churl."

"My name is Xilivicus," snapped the Churl. "Once upon a time it was I who was the Prince and you who were the Churl. No longer shall I obey orders from you that I do not agree with, Broga."

The Prince grasped the sword tightly his anger overflowing his body and pulsing out. His body grew tense and he then snarled, "I suppose Lord Dagon's intentions for putting you in this realm did not pay off. Even though you were as far away from the court as possible you still managed to fall under Dibella's and Mara's damned spell."

Xilivicus narrowed his eyes to slits as those names were mentioned to him. Elizabeth furrowed her brow in perplexity. Mara… Dibella? What did they have to do with Xilivicus? Broga sneered and shook his head, "You're just as filthy and pathetic as all those humans in Tamerial. Lord Dagon should have maimed you when you returned to the court looking more human than Daedra."

"Shut your mouth," snapped the angered Churl.

Broga clenched his jagged teeth together and spat, "I'll shut my mouth when I want to!" He rose his sword and just as he was about to strike down upon both man and woman, a silver rope entangled his hand and pulled the sword back from his grasp. The Dremora snarled and flipped around to see the Spider Daedra holding the sword.

Her plain silver eyes narrowed and a few Kynmarchers and Kynval rushed forward and seized Broga from attacking anyone. The Prince tried ripping away from their grasps but he did not prevail. The Spider Daedra tossed the sword aside and scolded, "Your actions are foolish, Broga! You store this maiden for yourself instead of turning her knowledge and herself over to Dagon. You also act out upon those protected by the hand of Lord Dagon." The Spider Daedra turned to Xilivicus and frowned, "Go back to your tower with the scholar. A new Prince shall be transferred here and Broga will be taken away to another plane. Obtain any information she has for the new Prince…that is all."

Xilivicus bowed before the Spider Daedra. She was a lower class than he was; however, any other Daedra would have given him practically the same orders. The Churl turned and led Elizabeth off, wrapping an arm around her and placing his hand upon her frozen shoulder. Elizabeth furrowed her brow and rubbed away irritating tears as she glanced back and saw Broga's hateful eyes glued upon her sending curses her way. She quickly turned forward and followed Xilivicus.

_**-+-**_

The Churl wrapped a blanket around the rain drenched girl. His face serious, bothered, and even a little depressed. He leaned down and looked into her eyes, "… what did he try to do, Elizabeth?"

The girl glanced up from the spot she sat upon. She had removed the robe which now hung upon a spike to dry; instead, she wore his long washed brown tunic. He had removed it and given it to her hoping his body warmth which still swirled around through the weaved fabric would help her gain her body heat back. The Elf bowed her head as she pulled the blanket tighter and sniffled, "He… told me that he desired my body. P-Practically he was letting lust consume him and he tried forcing himself on me, but I picked up a bottle of poison and struck him across the face."

Xilivicus clenched his jaw as he heard this. Broga attempting to rape a human maiden was despicable, especially for him to make fun of them for so many years then turn around and attempt to sleep with one. "…I'm sorry," he whispered lightly while lighting a few candles by holding them up to the flame of a raging torch nearby the ramps. He placed them near her mat and as his hand withdrew from the candle; her hand reached up and grabbed his wrist. He froze and glanced over to her.

She furrowed her brow and looked up at him, "… w-why did you… step in between Broga and I?"

Xilivicus glanced away and coughed, "… I…" what point was there in lying anymore? "I didn't want him to hurt you."

The Elf pouted and then questioned, "But… earlier you had said you didn't really care for me at all." The Dremora stood up fully with a deep sigh. His chest expanding then falling as he let out his frustrations. He turned around and walked over to his bag and quickly shuffled through it. Elizabeth became impatient and called out, "Xilivicus…"

He hardly gave a glance over his shoulder and then he answered truthfully in a deep defeated tone, "…I had lied back then."

The Elf pulled the blanket closer to herself and she pressed further into the subject, "… why?"

The Dremora froze in his footsteps as his mind completely consumed his energy. He bowed his head and narrowed his eyes as if he didn't truly know the answer himself. His tangerine bangs fell into his face and he lifted a hand and slid them back from his face. As he turned fully around he leaned upon the wall and said, "… you've had a tough morning. You've been challenged and abused by many a Daedra here. Lie down and take a nap. I want you fully refreshed by the time the new Prince arrives."

Elizabeth puckered her brow and looked down at her hands. Her drying silver hair coiled down and fell around her face, blocking out or absorbing most of the light. Was he ever truly going to answer her questions? The coldness in the tower began to consume her and she looked up and asked, "Is there another blanket that I can use?"

Xilivicus shook his head softly and replied, "I had only taken one from Kvatch. I did not even ponder the thought of you needing more. If you wish I shall return to Kvatch and—"

"No," she interrupted, "that won't be needed. It's a raining mess and even if you could find a blanket in all the rubble, by the time you get it here it shall be just as drenched as I was."

The Dremora nodded in acknowledgement. "Lay down then and huddle beneath the blanket. I'm sure from the time you fall asleep and the time you awake you will feel far warmer."

Elizabeth obeyed and laid down soon pulling the blanket over her. She curled her legs under and huddled in a small ball. Her frozen toes pressed into one another and she nuzzle the pillow hoping friction would warm her. Right as her head had hit the pillow she suddenly realized how drowsy she truly was. Her mouth opened wide as a yawn was given off. The light turned to darkness and she slowly slipped into her own dreams.

An hour or two had passed as Xilivicus leaned upon the wall reading a book that he had taken from Tamerial. He was an educated Daedra and knew of the human language. At least, knew enough to decipher what was happening in these stories. He heard a soft steady breathing and his eyes elevated from the crinkled golden pages of the book and he saw the sleeping figure of the girl. He slowly closed the book and walked over; trying his hardest to be completely silent. He seemed like a ghost as he neared her. He slowly crouched and then sat next to her.

She was slumbering deeply, not even a loud clamor could possibly awake her. The Dremora laid by her side soon wrapping his warmth filled arm around her. He pulled her closer to his body and let her fully absorb his heat. He slowly closed his eyes and sighed deeply feeling at peace with his body and mind.

Elizabeth's warm breath rushed down upon his firm broad chest and he wondered to himself just how long he could continue to push away the thought of…

No.

He could hardly think it.

He waved the question away as he held her even tighter. The blanket was the only thing separating them from being completely next to each other. Her hair smelled of sweet forest flowers and fresh mountain air. He drifted into his senses and gently he cascaded down into a dark world himself, soon falling asleep with Elizabeth cuddling onto his bare chest for warmth.

_**-TBC- **__**

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_**R&R! I update faster when I get more reviews... just an fyi. Hehehe.. **_


	7. The Darkest of Dreams

**_Oh, my... do you know how awesome it is to hear that people like my writing? It's like a blessing or something awesome like that—like getting' all the new downloads for Oblivion! Anyway, here's the new chap!_**

**_Preferred Song: 'Good Enough' by Evanescence_**

_**-+-**_

Xilivicus sat within a grand ebony cage. His body fully exposed before the Court of Dagon who surrounded him. He sat with a bowed throbbing head and a heavy black heart. His wrists were shackled together before him as were his feet. His eyes fell upon the tattoos on his arms and he flexed his muscles, watching them bulge and expand like pulling fabric and watching the weaves pull tight together. He sat in this cage for he was the prosecuted.

The Crime?

Love.

The Court who surrounded him were all hooded in long robes whose material was as fiery as lava and macabre as freshly drawn blood. His tangerine eyes narrowed as he looked up to see Dagon seated upon a grand throne on a pedestal. His Lord's eyes fell before him and he merely listened as the court was put in session. A Dremora rose and tilted his head up. His long spiked horns piercing through the hood. "Brother Xilivicus… Dremora Councilman… once prized Prince of Blood Well… you were summoned here on being accused of…" the Dremora tossed his eyes down to a golden parchment that lie before him. His lips pursed as his eyes lifted and he repeated from the lines written before him, "… falling in love… with a human girl… what say you to this?"

A few twisted whispers came from the lips of the court and Dagon merely leaned back and propped his jaw up with his knuckles. Xilivicus lifted his head high and snarled back at his brother Dremora, "I say… you are a _liar_."

The scene had melted away like hot wax dripping down a candlestick. Xilivicus closed his eyes tightly as a burning flame seemed to engulf him. The shackles dissipated into the air and he soon stood free in a rather cold environment. He heard the call of a lone wolf and he slowly opened his eyes to a great moon overwhelming the sky. His pupils shrank as the light surprised and almost blinded him. He lowered his gaze and tilted his head to a side allowing thick waved locks of orange fall into his face. He grunted and as his vision cleared he saw a robed woman approach him through a thicket of soaring redwood trees.

She glided upon the air with a beautiful snow white flower in her soft grasp. Her hood lifted and her beautiful eyes fell upon the Dremora. She held neither fear nor surprise for his shuddering appearance. Instead, she looked upon him with adoration and remorse. Her lips which were as red as rubies pursed and she called out in a melodic voice, "… I truly thought you would change your ways… my son."

Xilivicus furrowed his brow with a look of incredulity lingering upon his façade, "…Dibella?" He called out to her. Certainly not… or… was it?

Through the thicket approached another woman. She too equaled the beauty of the first. Her long golden hair was weaving together like the weaves of a basket. She held within her grasp two ropes that entangled in the middle; symbolizing two immortal souls locking together in a perpetual love. "We did what was for the best of you," her kind and gentle voice called out to him in the moonlit night. Her head bowed in sorrow as she continued, "… we truly thought you would change."

"Mara… Dibella?" Xilivicus muttered. "B-But how… why are you here?" Suddenly, his eyes iced over with hatred and he snarled with a clenched jaw, "and what the hell am I doing here with you?"

Dibella bowed her head. So much that he did not understand and there was such little time to explain. "Xilivicus… darling… you are dreaming. We have made ties with Vaermina to enable us to react with you in your own dreams… or nightmares; whichever you happen to be having at this precise moment in time."

Mara nodded and quickly continued, "Xilivicus… there is a great threat coming to your gate of Oblivion. Surely, we should not be here speaking with you if it was not for our own cause."

"We are not able to tell you specifically what is coming," Dibella added while caressing the petals of the flower, "but we need to warn you before it's too late-"

"-And before you are killed along with the rest of the Daedra in your gate," said Mara, "You have been our greatest interest in all of our followers-"

Xilivicus narrowed his eyes, "If I was such a great interest to the both of you then why did you leave me in here to rot for the rest of eternity?! Why did you not free me from this Hell that you had so willingly returned me to?!"

"There are _rules_, Xilivicus," Dibella urged. "We are not to step past particular guidelines and taking a Dremora and freeing him from Oblivion is certainly one of them!"

Mara nodded and added, "We are all bounded by the cosmic rules, Dremora Xilivicus. We must abide to them even if it is in our greater will to set you free."

The Dremora turned and began to walk away. No longer had he wanted any part of this conversation. Crystal blue fireflies fluttered through the cold atmosphere lighting a path for the Dremora. He walked through the forest and out of the abyss the two Goddesses returned in front of him. He froze in his footsteps with troubled eyes, "I told you both to leave me the bloody hell alone! Can you not see that I do not return the love that you claim you give to me?!"

Dibella's eyes frost over with annoyance, "No matter how much you may curse us, Mara and I love you like our own son. You might not see our plans working in your life, but when you look back upon it you will see how great of a sacrifice we made for you."

Xilivicus scoffed, "Sacrifice… what a lot of rubbish," he waved them off and snarled, "You have made no sacrifice for me and never shall I look back upon this moment. Our bounds are broken through who we are—you are the Cyrodiil Goddesses and I… Lord Dagon's Servant… a Dremora of Oblivion who only may worship Daedric Lords and Ladies."

Mara pursed her lips and snapped back, "You choose who you worship, you aren't born with that obligation!"

Xilivicus swirled at them and spat, "Then I pick Lord Dagon… your laws are all a bit of rubbish. Never in my life have his laws contradicted my way of life!"

"Oh, but haven't they?" Mara asked while narrowing her eyes. "Is it not the nightmare of being blamed of falling in love with the High Elf Maiden, Elizabeth?"

"Shut your mouth," Xilivicus snarled.

"…and is it not the dream of you and Elizabeth finally becoming one that seems to haunt you every day and night?" Dibella pressed on.

"I said, shut your mouth!"

"… and is it not the same girl who lies within your arms in Oblivion who you so willingly refused orders to protect and in refusing your orders you refused Lord Dagon's laws and customs of average Daedra?"

"I said shut up!" Xilivicus boomed.

Dibella stepped even closer, her voice echoing through the treetops and piercing holes within the Heavens, "…and is it not the same girl who you view as a blessing and are absolutely terrified of ever losing her?! Well… is she?!"

"**_SHUT UP_**!" The Dremora bellowed at the top of his lungs.

The Goddesses disappeared into black smokes soon vanishing from his dream. He fell upon his knees and clutched his head with clenched eyes. His fingertips brushed over his horns and his eyes ripped open. He leaned his head up and saw within his own shadow the Daedric appearance… the horrid appearance. In this moment Xilivicus felt something warm overcome him. His chest began to heave and softly he felt teardrops roll down his cheeks. What was this? His trembling hands lifted and touched the water drops. He recoiled his hand and looked at the moist fingertips with a rather curious gaze.

"… Tears…" whispered someone from behind him. "… Mortals give them off when they are stressed or are in a deep wave of sorrow. In your situation, I shall presume that it is not the stress that makes you cry."

Xilivicus swirled around with narrowed eyes expecting the Goddesses. Suddenly, his eyes lightened and out of the darkness came an old woman who carried a great staff. She walked rather flawlessly for such a woman and immediately the Dremora whispered, "Vaermina…"

The old woman smiled and walked over, "Your nightmares have been the worst that I have ever seen before, Dremora. Especially from such a creature as yourself. Falling in love with humans? Human gods desiring an audience with you? My, my, my… what have you gotten yourself into, little one?" she chuckled darkly while holding the staff closer to her. "… However, there is a great deal of information that they have given you that is indeed true. The threat upon Oblivion… it shall not just be in one gate… oh no… it shall be upon all the gates of Oblivion, sealing them away so no more Daedra may ever return to Tamerial."

Xilivicus furrowed his brow and with a broken voice he questioned, "Then what shall I do to protect us all? I am merely one Dremora… what power do I have over all Oblivion?"

Vaermina shrugged and scoffed, "You don't!"

The Dremora bowed his head and sighed deeply, "… and Elizabeth…"

"What about her?" questioned the Daedric Lady, "She is mortal. You cannot protect her from the inevitable."

"No," said he, "but I can delay it… I shall do all in my power to protect her from this greater evil."

Vaermina pursed her lips and looked up to the moon, "Dear boy, what if this 'evil' is not the sort of evil you may be thinking of?" The Dremora gave her a confused look and she continued with a smile. "Daedra and Human have two different levels of evil… what may be evil for you… may not be such a terrible thing for her… I shall not breathe a word of our little chat to Dagon… I'm sure that would be in the best interest of all of us. You have a decision to make, Churl. Do things for the interest of yourself… or the interest of others… think about that—my child." The woman lifted her staff into the air and the world dematerialized around them soon leaving the Churl in a dark abyss.

He closed his eyes tightly as the darkness swirled around him and tossed him as if he were in an ocean. Suddenly, his eyes ripped open and he lie upon his back in the dim tower of Oblivion. His breathe was rushed and sweat dripped down his brow making his skin glisten in the candlelight. A soft moan was given off beside him and his eyes turned and fell upon the Elven maiden who still lay asleep. Her head rested upon his arm and her hands softly clutching each other upon his chest. His head lay back and he looked up through the tower keep seeing the rolling crimson clouds and the camouflaged stars that masked themselves in darkness.

Xilivicus closed his eyes and listened to his throbbing heart leisurely die down in his chest. He knew that he should leave the angel by his side so she would not question his feelings towards her. His fingertips softly pushed away her from his chest and her head fell onto the pillow, her snow white hair soon cascading down with her. The Dremora sat up and watched her with attentive eyes. Her body was now pulsing with his heat. His own aroma seemed to encase her like a second layer of skin. He pushed himself up and stumbled forward as lightheadedness cursed him and he nearly toppled over.

Right as he stood, the maiden groaned and rubbed her eyes tiredly. The Dremora ran a hand through his long ginger hair attempting to straighten his waved locks. He leaned upon the wall and watched as she sat up with the blankets wrapped tightly around her. Her long silver hair just as waved as his was. She looked extraordinarily beautiful when she had awoken. Xilivicus pushed the image from his head and he grunted in an unpleased voice, "Have a nice nap?"

The Elf blinked a few times to get the blur away from her eyes. She raised her fists and rubbed her eyes, soon answering, "Mmm… it was particularly warm. I thought surely I would freeze throughout it!"

Xilivicus glanced off and merely mumbled. He had no input to say for he did not want to reveal that it was him who sacrificed his heat for her. Elizabeth rose with a grin and as she came to her feet she stood upon tiptoed as her arms reached out into the air and she sighed deeply. "When will the new commander arrive?"

"Not for a while," Xilivicus answered while walking over to her with a pair of laced up huntsman's pants. "Usually, if someone is going to be transferred here from another realm of Oblivion it might take a day or two… sometimes even longer if they are farther away. In that time, I will take you out and you shall begin to tell me everything interesting about your world and in return I will answer any question of Oblivion that you have."

Elizabeth took the pants from him and as she leaned down and began putting them on she smiled and laughed softly, "So, this shall be a sort of date then?"

Xilivicus furrowed his brow. _Date_; he asked himself, _what was a date_? He did not want to even ask her for he feared the answer. "... Put on those boots over there and we shall begin our journey." He said while tossing his gaze over to fur boots.

"Where did you get these new clothes?" She questioned.

The Dremora shrugged lightly while glancing off. "Torture chamber," he answered simply.

Elizabeth froze and simply looked at him with spacious eyes, "E-Excuse me?"

"Torture chamber," he repeated, "I think those belonged to a merchant we found wandering near the gate. He had no further use of it after his death, but you do have use for it."

The maiden cringed at the thought of used clothing from a dead man. She had never worn a deceased man's clothes before. She knew that what he said was true; surely that man had no further use for it. The girl walked over and slipped on the shoes, lacing them up to the fur rim. She then glanced over to Xilivicus and he nodded at her and quietly purred, "Follow me, then."

-+-

The Planes of Oblivion seemed fairly warm this day. The clouds in the sky lingered in place and watched as Xilivicus led Elizabeth down the dirt path around Oblivion. The girl was very curious and every item she found suspicious she neared and touched. Xilivicus pulled bloodgrass out by the root and held it up for her to examine, "It fortifies health to oneself. It's great to have around in case anything troubling happens while out here… over here is spiddal sticks, it does the absolute reverse of bloodgrass."

Elizabeth nodded and glanced up to her guard, "We have something like that in Tamerial. Mutton is used to fortify while Nightshade damages." She held the bloodgrass in her hand and examined it closer. Her eyes searched over the stalk and then she looked up. "There are all sorts of alchemistic ingredients to be found in Tamerial. Anywhere you look you may find some new flower or sap that might be used in poison or even an ointment."

The couple walked on and the Dremora looked out over the horizon seeing nothing but a haze of orange where the lava carried on. He sighed and glanced to her, "How far are your planes?"

"Planes?" questioned the girl.

The man nodded and then exchanged the words, "How large is your world…?"

"Oh!" her head perked up and she nodded, "Much larger than this plane, I suppose. It stretches on into mountains and oceans and travels to further and farther away lands that I haven't ever been told of."

"Oblivion is rather large itself if not sectioned off into little planes like this one. There are many Daedric Lords who own their identifiable realm. I've been to many of them as a messenger and a knight for Lord Dagon… however… it appears that I have never been into your Tamerial."

Elizabeth's brow puckered and she turned fully to him, "But you went into Kvatch to get me supplies."

"I only saw wreckage and mayhem. I never got to see beyond what I already knew." He replied while leading the girl over a large bridge that crossed over the lava.

Elizabeth glanced around and then asked distantly, "Where are your women?"

"Women?" Xilivicus questioned.

The girl nodded and looked up to him, "Surely you have women who you… mate with… to keep your species going. Where are they?"

Xilivicus glanced away and sighed deeply. "I haven't seen any women either in this plane. There are of course the Spider Daedra… but they aren't exactly the same class as we are. When I was…" he stopped and held his tongue. No, she couldn't know of his past. "… when I… first came here… I wandered that myself."

Elizabeth cocked her head to a side and then questioned, "So you never knew your mother?"

Xilivicus remained quiet as he thought back before being trained and shaped into a warrior. He saw two pairs of eyes look over him. Beautiful, loving eyes. That was all he could see. "… No… I don't remember her." Silence had surrounded them and leisurely the Dremora broke that silence, "what about you? Who were your parents?"

Elizabeth sighed a bothered and long sigh. Where was she to begin with them? "Let's see," she began, "My father was Jerald Asquerana… he was a strong powerful man in our city. Like… Broga is—or was—to this realm. He was very rich and a lot of people envied him." A frown lined her face as she bowed her head in shame, "… but… he never acted as a father. The only father that I knew was Bromus, my butler. My mother was Nithira… she was beautiful and extraordinary in everything that she did. We never truly got along either and I preferred it that way. She was like a rose, you see? So beautiful from a foot away but when you bend down to hold it, the thorns pierce you… my mother hated the fact that I was not as beautiful as she was. She'd scorn me and blame me for being the way I was."

Xilivicus looked up to the horizon, "She sounds horrible."

Elizabeth nodded and then sighed, "My brothers, Daelon, Caldwyn, and Orrick were the perfect sons my father could ever ask for. They were athletic and strong and they were favored over any boy in all of Kvatch." Her eyes became misty as she carried on, "They didn't care for me as well. I was just a weak simpleminded girl to them who would be married off and they would never see me again. My whole family… despised me—and for what reason? Because I never wanted to be born into royalty… I never wanted the life that they forced down my throat. I would beg to go out and play with the other children and I would soil my dresses with dirt and I would blow bubbles with my tongue... to them I was merely a mistake and nothing more."

The Dremora watched her considerately with a sympathetic scowl covering his face. He always thought that Elves were born into loving families without any problems whatsoever; however, her life seemed almost as challenging as his life. "… I'm sorry," he whispered to her as they stopped upon the bridge.

Elizabeth laughed weakly and waved the apology off. "No need to be sorry for me. I'm certain other people have had worse lives then me. You're lucky you don't remember far back at all."

Xilivicus felt a lump crawl up his throat and he spat out, "… I used to be a Prince."

The High Elf looked up with wide blue eyes that held all the interest of the world. Her head tilted scarcely and the Dremora carried on, "… I used to be one of Lord Dagon's council members. I was the highest official that you could possibly be. I walked upon these planes and the Daedra worshipped the ground I walked upon. Broga used to be my servant… the Clannfear were merely rats to me." He lifted his head high as he could remember so far back. Images swirled in his mind as he carried on, "… then one day… I was taken away from Oblivion."

"... How?" inquired the girl.

He looked down to his pants pocket as he pulled out the golden chain and pendant. "… I was summoned by Dibella the Goddess of Beauty… and Mara… the Goddess of Love. They had dealings with Lord Dagon and in order to repay what was put upon them, they took his grand Champion," his tangerine eyes rolled over to her and he smiled, "…me."

He chuckled and glanced away, "I can remember that day perfectly. I was brought before them like I was on trial. I stood fully exposed and bare and they looked upon me without fear or hatred. They became potters and they molded my body and shaped me. My face…" his hands reached up and touched his skin, "… became a work of art… and my body—became a shrine to the Goddesses. When they were finished they brandished a necklace and together they put it around my neck and sent me back to the Court. When I arrived… all stood in awe of me. Before they worshiped me like an idol but now—I was a god. Dagon was absolutely furious and he tortured me until I was nothing but blood and bone. He then sent me here to be the lowest of ranks… a Churl…"

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as this story was told. He had met her goddesses?! How astounding! How extraordinary! How marvelous! Her chest seemed on fire and she nodded, "and what happened after that?"

Xilivicus looked upon her seeing such excitement and astonishment. He chuckled and continued, "Broga became my Master… the Clannfear became monsters and I feared them. My world was completely reversed and then one day I was pulled from the halls and thrown out into the planes of Oblivion and when I looked up I saw you standing before me… and you became a blessing to me."

The Elf smiled sweetly a soft pinked blush appearing at her cheeks, "A blessing?" She urged.

He nodded and said, "I had never met a genuine human before, and you did not seem to fear me at all when you saw me. You acted as though I were a human just like you… and all my life that was my greatest dream."

Elizabeth slowly lost her smile and she began to walk away. Her hands slid up and she entwined her fingers and held her fists below her chin in a praying pose. "… It's not that great to be human…"

Xilivicus furrowed his brow, "… what are you talking about?"

The Elf sighed and shook her head, "There's so much more then what you see, Xilivicus. It's not all some beautiful fairytale… tragedies happen and it seems like nothing ever goes according to your own plans. You're lucky to be a Daedra."

There was silence and for a few moments both members felt like they were entirely two different people. Xilivicus shook his head and snapped, "How dare you say I am lucky to be a Daedra! You think your pathetic little spoiled life is a tragedy?! I've felt worse pain they you shall ever feel! My body has been broken and beaten until there is nothing left within me! What has your greatest pain been? A stubbed toe? A knock on the forehead?!"

The Elf swirled around with pursed lips. She stalked forward and snarled, "Heartbreak, Xilivicus, heartbreak! I had a mother and father who _hated _me! They are out there right now in Tamerial and they are proud that I am not with them! I am a prisoner in this flaming pit of Hell! All I know and love is out through that portal and is burning to ashes! Your people destroyed my life!"

"My people?" He scoffed, "You are blaming my people for all this, are you? If it weren't for your greedy gods then we all wouldn't be in this mess! Lord Dagon was supposed to be the ruler of Tamerial yet your "gods" took that away from him! You brought this down upon yourself! As for heartbreak… you don't know heartbreak until you live in my world." He snarled while moving even closer a glare icing over his eyes. His fist pounded his chest and he continued, "I have lived all my life dreaming of living outside this realm and in your world! I never wanted to look like a monster, Altmer! I never wanted a hateful cold heart! I never wanted to serve Lord Dagon! I never wanted to fall in…" he stopped and turned fully away.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and scoffed, "Fall in, what?"

Xilivicus shook his head and puffed, "Forget it."

The Elf grabbed his shoulder and demanded, "Tell me!"

The Dremora swirled around and slapped her harshly sending her to the ground. His jagged nails sliced through her cheek and he watched as she fell to the dusty bridge floor in pain. She trembled and he boomed so hatefully at her, "I said forget it, wench!"

Elizabeth pushed herself up and she touched her cheek. As she pulled away her pale white fingertips she saw droplets of crimson blood. Her eyes shifted back and forth then she looked up to Xilivicus and snarled, "You _are_ a monster… just like Broga." With that, she stood and sprinted down the bridge soon leaving the man all to himself.

Xilivicus's eyes widened and he watched her in shock. He was… like Broga?

He was… like Broga.

His head slowly fell and he could hear his voice echo in his head. The image played back at him and he watched as he hit her down. _I said forget it, wench! I said forget it, wench! I said forget it, wench!_ ... He was a monster. The Dremora looked up at the direction Elizabeth ran and with all the might and willpower in his body he dashed after her.

_Dibella… Mara! _He called out to the Goddesses. _Give me the power! Let me right my wrong; don't let me become like the other Daedra! Don't let me become a monster! _He leapt up and ran across a boulder soon running down the side of it. His eyes searched back and forth as he looked for the maiden… his goal… his friend.

Elizabeth huffed and puffed as she ran around a corner with tears swelling in her eyes. She confessed to him about things she never told anyone. She spilled out her life before him and all he could do was laugh and mock her. She closed her eyes and as she swung her arm back and the other forward something caught onto her. A gasp protruded through her lips and she quickly stopped moving. Her head moved onward to some extent and her hair tossed in the air. She shook her head and screamed, "Let me go, savage! I hate you! I_ hate_ you! Do you hear me?! _I HATE YOU!_"

Xilivicus grasped her arm even tighter as she struggled and attempted to pull away from his grasp. His face was grave and unyielding as he pulled her back and as she came to him he wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly that he could feel her heart beat into his chest. He closed his eyes and bowed his head upon her shoulder. Her fingertips dug into his sides and her long nails pierced his skin and drew blood.

The Dremora held her even tighter in his grasp as he whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry…. Please forgive me…. I'm sorry."

Elizabeth's raging façade slowly faded as she felt a cold sensation on her shoulder. She heard a soft sobbing and her eyes widened. Her trembling hands wrapped fully around the Dremora and she held him tightly while leaning her head upon his. They stood in silence and softly she whispered back, "… I forgive you, Xilivicus. I do."

The Dremora closed his eyes and a few more tears were shed. His fingertips caressed the fabric of the tunic she wore. He could feel her back rise and fall with each breathe and it soothed him. He held her as tightly as possible without causing her any pain at all.

_I never wanted to fall in love…_ he softly told himself. He opened his misty eyes and pulled away far enough to look inside her eyes. They stared up at him with kindness and a tenderness he was never shown before. He resisted the urge to lean down and kiss her. _…you think I don't know heartbreak, Elizabeth? … You think I don't know? _

Elizabeth raised a hand and cupped his cheek with it. A smile spread across her face and no words were spoken. There was no need of words for the moment. When she looked into those eyes a sensation ran over her and caressed past her heart causing it to flutter like a butterfly out an open window. Her chest rose and her fingertips caressed his soft purple skin involuntarily. _What is this?_ She began to ask herself. _Why does it feel… like I'm… _"Xilivicus…" she called sweetly and softly out to him.

His eyes widened with attention and he looked down to her; waiting. The Elf looked up to him. His eyes so alluring and out of the ordinary. His skin was a soft warm purple that she adored ever so much. Her fingertips continued to caress his cheek and she then asked him, "… Hold me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her securely. Her fingers entwined around his neck and they merely stood there together. Their eyes closed and they could hear the beating of one another's hearts… who together… sounded like one steady drum.

**_-TBC-_**

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__I think this might be my favorite chapter so far. Don't get used to the lovey-dovey scene, people. It's not going to last very long at all. R&R!! More reviews, faster I update! God Bless, hope you all have a wonderful weekend._**


	8. The Final Fight

**_Sorry for not updating so quickly, friends. I've been really sick the past few days and didn't get to finish the chapter till now. Anyways, here's the new installment. This one took some research so enjoy it. _**

**_Preferred Song: 'Carry on Wayward Son' Remix by The Showdown

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_**-+-**_

The Kvatch camp was a dreary scene to see. Families wandered aimlessly around hoping that from the winding path upon the mountain their children and lovers would run down and greet them with wide arms. They feared that they were the only ones left. Heavy hearts loomed upon the cliffs of abyss and they saw no hope as they looked up to a darkened sky. A Redguard and his son sat inside a tent looking up to the sky by prodding the flap slightly open. The father's tired and sorrowful eyes grew even more hopeless as he feared that his wife was not going to be coming home.

There was a sound down the trail and a few people tossed their gaze to see a great white horse ride up into the camp. An armored man tilted back his mage's hood to look up onto the mountain where the great Kvatch used to stand but now lay in its own ruins. His eyes hardened and he quickly demounted the horse. The creature snorted and watched as he walked up to a local and called out, "Are you all that are left of Kvatch?"

The High Elf bowed her head and replied, "Yes, we are. There are; however, a few people within the chapel. The guards are up there trying to get them out. But it won't be long before they attack us again." Her voice… so bleak.

The Hero nodded and glanced up to the mountain once more. "The guards," said he, "how many are there?"

The High elf shook her head and replied, "I… I don't know… possibly three… maybe four."

He shook his head and walked back to his horse and mounted it. He clicked his heels into the creature's sides and he quickly rode up the mountain side. The High Elf watched him and yelled after him, "Fool! You're going to get yourself killed!"

The Hero narrowed his eyes and ignored her useless shouting. He was given a quest. Never had he turned from a quest and he wasn't going to start now.

-+-

Xilivicus wrapped his arm around Elizabeth as he walked her back to the tower. She still sniffled and wiped her pinked eyes as she attempted to push down the awful feeling she had. The Dremora glanced over to her and frowned, "… are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah," she sniffled, "I'll be fine."

His brow furrowed and he nodded soon walking her around a bend. When his eyes rose he suddenly stopped to see half a quadrant of Kynmarchers and Kynval standing near the portal. They wielded weapons and brandished great armor. A few turned to Xilivicus and called him out. The Dremora removed his arm from the girl and told her to stay put and not move. She nodded and watched him jog over to his superiors.

"What's going on?" Xilivicus questioned while glancing to the portal seeing a few mages smirk and chuckle as they summoned scamp after scamp.

A Kynval glanced over and nodded to the portal with his head. "We forgot to kill a few guards and now they're trying to fight back. They stand before Kvatch killing anything that we send out," he chuckled and smiled brightly with a mouth of jagged teeth, "Funny thing is, we're sending out summoned scamps. So we kill the guards… and lose no men whatsoever. It's great fun to watch them. They act like they're really fighting for Tamerial. What a shame they're fighting and dying to the lesser Daedra who are nothing compared to us, aye?"

Xilivicus nodded, "Aye."

A Kynmarcher chuckled and slapped a mage upon the back, "Let's confuse them… send out a Clannfear. They'll be scared to death! Probably piss their greaves when they see it!"

The mage chuckled, "Clannfear? Why not a Daedroth? That will really make them run in fear."

Another Kynval called out, "Why don't we just go out there? Imagine their faces when a whole army of Daedra walk out and just stand there watching them. They'd die at the sight of us!"

All the men chuckled and a Clannfear was sent out. They watched the portal and could hardly see the guards leap out of their skins as they all rushed forward to kill it. The Daedra were rolling in laughter as they watched. Xilivicus furrowed his brow and watched as the Clannfear leap upon a soldier and shredded him into pieces. Blood burst into the air and stained the ground and the Clannfear itself who was quickly slaughtered by another guard.

The Kynmarchers and Kynval quickly dissipated as they became bored and knew if they didn't return to their duties then it would be them who were shredded to pieces. Xilivicus walked back to Elizabeth and looked up. "… Kvatch guards are attempting to protect Tamerial…" he told her before she even got to ask. "There are only five or so left."

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped as she stood before him in disbelief. All that was left of her city was a few guards? … No, it couldn't be true. She glanced off and looked up to her tower where they were headed. She nodded and quietly began walking down the path. Xilivicus's shoulders slumped as he watched her. How awful it must have been to see her beautiful and marvelous world burn to ashes. He wished she never had to see this. As they walked across the bridge, calls echoed out behind them.

These calls… they weren't Daedric.

"… By the Nine Divines!" A guard exclaimed.

"Look—the Tower!" another guard called out while pointing his sword up to the massive Black Death chamber that loomed within the bloody sky.

Elizabeth swirled around and she called out the guards, "Donovan… Barkus…!"

The guards looked forward and saw the High Elf. They nearly dropped their swords as they called out, "Miss Asquerana?!"

Xilivicus cursed and grabbed Elizabeth's hand, "Hurry, into the tower!"

Elizabeth glared up at him, "My friends! I want to-"

Before she could even say another word Clannfear ran around the corner and attacked them. Elizabeth gasped and tried running to them to help but Xilivicus wrapped his arms around her stomach and lifted her into the air, "No! You go over there and the Clannfear will kill you too!"

Elizabeth's eyes swelled with tears as she watched the gates slowly begin to close upon what was left of her townspeople, "…no… no, please! S-Stop!"

Xilivicus swirled her around and picked her up into his arms, taking her to the tower. His eyes came to a few Kynval and he boomed out to them, "Go into the west tower! Make sure that gate remains closed! In the astounding chance that they can fight off those Daedra, make sure that Kynmarcher are at each inch of this tower, do you understand?!" His voice demanding and harsh like it had been such a long time ago when he was a Prince.

The Kynval saluted to him and quickly rushed off. The Churl turned back to his tower and quickly rushed inside. His heart began beating as he thought to himself; _how did the guards get in here? I thought we had enough scamps and Clannfear out there to preoccupy them. They won't last long out there. But precautions must be taken in case anything happens. _

Elizabeth wrapped her arms even tighter around Xilivicus's neck. She was angered at him for taking her away from her people; yet, she was grateful that he stopped her. Gods know what could have happened to her! She sniffled even more and looked up to the Dremora as he carried her quickly up the ramps. As they came to the top he walked over to her pallet and placed her down gently. "Are you alright?" He questioned. "Understand that what I did was for the best interests of you."

"I-I know…" she stammered while wiping her eyes.

Xilivicus put his index finger under her chin and his thumb under her lips. He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. "I promise I won't let anything happened to you."

The High Elf gazed up into his eyes. That feeling… it had returned within her. Her chest seemed like a swirling fire that consumed her soul. Her heart fluttered and her cheeks became inflamed. The Dremora stood fully up and nodded, "… I promise." He then turned and walked over to his armor which lay idly by the ramps. He quickly placed it upon him and as he picked up his helmet a voice down the ramps called out to him. It was a Kynval, "Xilivicus! W-We have a problem!"

The Churl came to a halt and tossed his fiery eyes down, "What is it?"

The Kynval eyes were wide as he said, "The Clannfear and Scamps… they're all—"

-+-

Dead.

The Hero stood over all the bodies of these monsters. Blood dripped from his once virgin blade. His eyes narrowed as he looked up to the tower. So this was Oblivion? He thought. A trembling guard came up behind him and said, "T-This place… so cold… s-so horrible… I'm getting out of here!"

The Hero tossed his head to a side and looked back at the guard, "Go… Savlian shall need you more than I do."

The guard nodded and tried calming his breaking nerves, "Y-You're right… thank you." He sheathed his sword and quickly ran out to the Oblivion gate.

The Hero nodded and looked around examining the area. It seemed like there was another route to the towers. Surely, there was. He turned and quickly made his way down a path knowing that Clannfear and Scamps weren't going to be the only thing he would see here.

-+-

Xilivicus's face twisted in anger, "Get Daedroth and mages out there. Send out anything to kill him! I want him dead before he comes in a hundred foot radius of the towers…. Well… get to it, Kynval!"

The Dremora nearly leapt from his skin as his inferior possessed more bark and bite than Broga had! The Kynval ran out of the tower and disappeared into the planes of Oblivion. Xilivicus bowed his head and just as he was about to place the helmet upon his head, he felt Elizabeth's hand grab his wrist. He glanced over and she looked up at him with saddened eyes. "… Be careful," she whispered to him.

He kept his grave face and then looked forward. He felt his heart ripping itself apart as this feeling came back. "… I will."

Elizabeth opened her mouth but she couldn't conjure the words to herself. She knew she just couldn't say those three words she was dying to say to him. The Dremora reached inside his pocket and pulled out the necklace. He furrowed his brow and handed it to her, "Take this… I want you to have it."

The High Elf glanced down to the necklace with a shocked face. She took it in her hands and before she could thank him, he had traveled down the ramps and was headed out to the planes of Oblivion. She glanced up and slowly her hands fell as she felt her heart beginning to tear itself apart.

She lifted the necklace up and linked it around her neck. The pendant tinkled across the golden rope and made a delightful noise. A sensation overcame the girl and she felt completely safe and warm… like Dibella and Mara were holding onto her and helping her heart heal from its sorrow.

"Dibella… Mara," she called out to the Goddesses, "… don't let him die."

She bowed her head and gripped the necklace tightly not knowing the worst was to come.

-+-

Xilivicus stood outside the tower with shifty eyes. His hand trembling as it lay upon the hilt of his blade. He tried focusing upon his surroundings but there was a block between his mind and reality. He saw Elizabeth and him walking through the moonlit woods. Her beautiful silver hair was down around her like cascading snow. The great crystal pools in her eyes lifted up to him as she laughed and took his hand without fear… without hesitation. He closed his eyes and could see her leaping into his arms again for protection. His heart lit up and suddenly he was pulled from his dreams and saw a Kynmarcher standing before him, "You there, Churl…"

"Yes, sir?" questioned the confused Xilivicus.

"Get into the tower and protect the stone. Out of all the Daedra here you are possibly the strongest and most fit to protect it."

The Churl blinked and inquired, "Who will look after… the prisoner?"

The Kynmarcher scoffed, "The human is here for the stone not some girl! Now get into the tower! I'll find a mage to block this door if you're going to throw such a fit over it!"

"… yes, sir." The Churl snarled while running into the grand tower with a heavy heart. Elizabeth… what if the human took her? Or even worse… what if he killed her? He would never forgive himself if that happened to her. But humans were civil… surely he wouldn't kill her. Xilivicus stormed up through the citadel doors and came back upon the ramps that led him to the sigil keep. The guard gave him a glance than nodded to the sigil stone, "Right there for you… don't screw this up Churl."

Xilivicus stormed up the stairs and watched the sigil stone with interested eyes. For fifteen years he had been in this realm and never had he seen the sigil stone up close. He kept close and watched it as if by itself it would turn and roll down the ramps to become free. Slowly, after a while, he closed his eyes and could see his dream which seemed to taint the walls of his mind.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Elizabeth as he leaned down and kissed her sweetly. Her lips tasted even better than strawberries. Their lips exploded into sparks as he pulled away and gazed deeply into her eyes, "Elizabeth," he had called out to her, "… I…"

He opened his eyes with a deep frown. No, he couldn't even say it then. There was no way that she could ever return that to him. He was a Daedra. She was a High Elf. How could she ever learn to love a beast? With a shake of his head he groaned deeply. What if this knight found out Elizabeth was here? What if…

-+-

He found the gate tower. His eyes rose to the great tops as he approached it. His armor was stained with the foulest of blood; however, it did not bother the Hero. It acted like water towards him meaning nothing at all. His eyes fell down to the door and he saw a mage standing guard. How pathetic. The Hero approached directly without any use of stealth or anything else. He had heard that these creatures were a champion's greatest battle… sadly, he was disappointed.

The Mage looked up and quickly pulled his staff from his back, swirling it in his hands. He aimed rapidly and bolts of lightning flew from the wooden shaft swirling through the air towards its target. The Hero tossed his sword up and moved it with the bolts. He acted as a conductor, directing and guiding its orchestra. He twirled about and threw the blade out at the Mage. The bolts swirled back and thrusted itself through his chest. The man stumbled back and as he was caught off guard, the Hero dashed forward with a raised blade. He grunted as he tossed the blade like a javelin.

The blade twisted through the air and ripped through the Mage's robes and soon tore through flesh and bone letting out a sickening strike. The Mage spat up blood as his head fell. His energy slowly drained out through the abrasion as he glanced down to see blood flowing from him like water. He clenched his jagged rotting teeth together and he looked up to see the Hero stalk forward with a grave face. The Hero's grasp coiled around the hilt as he twisted the blade and began using all his strength to pull the blade up.

The Mage snarled and cried out in pain as his rips were snapped into parts and more blood gushed out. The Hero's nostrils flared as he tore out the blade and watched the mage fall into the pool of his own blood. Blood curled down the doors and the Hero soon pushed them open and watched them slide into the walls. "… how strange." He muttered under his breathe.

He examined the body-smasher and when he pulled a lever it began to rise to the next level. He quickly leapt on with his sword still drawn. His cerulean mage's hood fell and now his sweat drenched golden curls were shown. His armor insulated his body so he could not feel the phenomenal coldness that surrounded him. He almost saw puffs of mist shoot from his mouth as he rose to the next level. His eyes shifted up to the ramps and he wandered what treasure that the Daedra stored within this tower. He quickly ran up the ramps with his sword by his side.

_Huff-huff-huff_, his heavy panting breathe rushed out before him. His boots padded across the limestone floor as he rounded the last bend and ran into the tower keep. His running slowed and he quickly came to a halt. His locks fell before him as he saw precisely what treasure they were hoarding in this tower.

Elizabeth smiled brightly as she closed her book and placed it down, "Oh, Xilivicus, I'm glad you returned! I almost thought-" she turned and her smile soon faded as she saw the Hero.

His lips came together and parted and his chest heaved as he still breathed rapidly. He looked her over with his dark eyes and he recognized her immediately. The High Elf's daughter! The one he had been promised to. She was indeed… beautiful. "Are… are you Elizabeth Asquerana?"

The maiden stepped back with a furrowed brow, "… I am. Who might you be?"

He chuckled and stuck out his arms so she could look fully upon him. A smug look spread across his face as he replied, "Your savior… I'm here to bring you back to your father. He's been worried sick ever since this mess happened. He sent me to return you to him… and return you I shall."

Elizabeth gasped lightly, "My father?! He's alive?"

The Hero nodded, "Come along with me, Ms. Asquerana. I shall close this gate and kill all these black hearted heathens so they shall never harm Tamerial again."

The maiden's heart fell in her chest as she wheezed, "Kill all the Daedra? B-But… what… what if some of them are… good hearted beings?"

The Hero shook his head with a scoff, "All Daedra are evil. They all plan to take over Tamerial for themselves and destroy us all. Look what they did to your city and your townspeople! They all must fall dead…I don't want this to happen to any other city. Now let us hurry!"

He held out his hand and Elizabeth glanced to it with chary eyes. Her father had sent him. This man must be the best there ever was or surely he would not be here to take her home to her father. She walked over and quickly took his hand. She nodded and followed him as he led her down the ramps and out onto the planes of Oblivion for the final strike upon this gate to close it forever.

-+-

Within the corridors of the dark salvation, the Spider Daedra walked with a few worries burdening her body. Her silver eyes narrowed to slits and just as she was about to walk through a door she heard someone call out behind her. She turned and saw a Kynval run at her. "What is the matter?" She questioned as he came near.

"T-The… prisoner…"

The Spider Daedra's eyes widened and she clenched her jagged teeth tightly as her muscles began to contract in a sudden anger. "What happened?" She snarled hatefully.

The Kynval bent over and attempted to catch his breathe. Dark sweat droplets troubled his brow and he tried to explain, "… the humanoid… w-who stormed the gate… found her," as the Kynval continued, the Spider Daedra slowly crossed her arms as a frustration and a vexation soon consumed her entire body, "… he… he's inside the tower right now… headed to the Sigil Keep. I… I don't think we'll be able to stop him. W-We're doomed!"

The woman snorted and looked him over for a moment. She then turned and nodded, "… so the prisoner is safe?"

The Kynval nodded frantically, "Not a scratch upon her body, that knight is protecting her!"

The woman smirked and bowed her head, "Good… make sure you keep it that way. Your attempts to kill the knight are futile, get to the sigil keep before them and tell Xilivicus to be ready for an encounter. Maybe if we can't kill the knight… he can."

The Kynval scowled and gave one short quick nod before running away down the corridor. The Spider Daedra watched him leave. She pursed her lips and chuckled, "… let the game begin." She lifted her hand into the air and a black orb appeared in her hand. It turned to a flower of darkness that fell down upon her like rain. As her body was consumed her appearance disappeared and she disappeared from Oblivion all together.

The Kynval ran up the ramp to the sigil keep and just as he was about to open the door there was a nauseating slice. The Kynval's eyes slowly rose and he fell over to his side with an arrow protruding through his chest; chunks of meat and heart lingering upon the sharpened barbed arrow. The Hero ran up the stairs and glanced around seeing no other Daedra. He turned and whistled.

Elizabeth ran up the ramps with a huffing breathe. Within her hand was a single dagger, in case the Hero failed to protect her during an attack. The blade was no longer virgin and Elizabeth's pure hands were now soiled with the blood of her first kill which happened to be a Kynmarcher that had attacked them from behind. Elizabeth looked over to the knight with large eyes, "Is… is this where they keep the stone?"

The Hero examined the door while kneeling down. He swiveled a lockpick within the odd lock. "… yes, I believe it is."

Suddenly, there was a chime and the doors came unloose. The man leapt up and pushed opened the doors with narrowed eyes. He placed the bow upon his back and pulled out the sword dangling from his belt. He slowly went in and called out softly, "Wait here."

Elizabeth nodded and leaned against the wall with a trembling body. She bowed her head and wondered if Xilivicus was still alive. She was certain that she hadn't seen him during their journey through the tower; however, she was not sure. Her chest began to ache as she thought of him lying on the floor trying to swallow a dying breathe. During her time here, Xilivicus became her friend. The first friend she had made in the longest time. _Why did he have to be a Daedra? Enemy of all Tamerial? … Why couldn't he live in Kvatch with me?_ She closed her eyes tightly and sighed.

The Hero walked up the incline with suspicious eyes. He gripped the sword as he snuck along the wall. As he edged near a door, he leaned over and glanced into the room. There were two ramps leading alongside the walls that led to the second floor. From there, it seemed like just a curve and another incline to the stone. He saw no Daedra, no traps, no surprises… it looked completely unguarded. The man stood and chuckled while walking into the room, "Here I thought it was actually going to be a challenge… what a disappointment." He walked up the ramps his eyes still scanning everything. As he rounded the curve he smiled. Oh, how easy this was going to be!

Before he could think of another word, a jagged barbed arrow flew out from the tower's abyss and struck the knight in the shoulder. He lunged forward and snarled with a glare. His eyes lifted to his shoulder to see the bloodied arrow protruding through muscle. His opposite hand lifted and he grasped it and as he ripped it from his shoulder he grunted and watched a spray of blood squirt out from his shoulder. He tossed the arrow aside and lifted his sword. He turned around and examined the room.

There was no movement.

There were no shadows.

His woodland eyes narrowed and he slowly began walking again. His entire mind was turned to his senses. His ears picked up any shuffling or breathing, his eyes picked up any movement at all and his touch was dedicated to anything touching him at all. He rounded another part of the curve and the hilt of his sword twisted in his hands. _Where are you, monster? _He hissed in his mind.

Xilivicus watched with narrowed eyes. Another arrow was lifted to his Daedric bow and he pointed it to the man. His heart pounded stridently in his chest as he attempted to stay as invisible as possible in the darkness that seemed to consume him. His fingertips pulled back the arrow with the easiest of simplicity and just as the Hero stopped walking he let the arrow go. It burst through the air at the target and just as it neared, the Hero swirled around and blocked it. He smiled as he saw the Dremora looming in the shadows. Xilivicus's eyes widened behind his helmet and he quickly tossed the bow aside.

The knight chuckled and with his free hand he summoned an inferno to himself and he threw the fireball at Xilivicus. The Dremora leapt from his hiding place just as the flames were let off. He dashed across the crimson colored third floor and as he ran he removed his sword from its sheath. He grabbed onto a spike and spun around it and when he let go he fell and landed on the second floor, the sword gripped in both his hands. His eyes narrowed as he saw the knight standing before him. The man smiled and gripped his own silver sword, "How stealthy of you to hide in the shadows. You must be the first person to actually strike me." His grin faded and he snarled, "It won't happen again."

The Churl narrowed his eyes and soon darted forward lifting his sword into the air and swinging the blade down at the human. The Hero grunted as he lifted his sword and blocked the attack soon side swinging it at Xilivicus who leapt back and readied himself. The two engaged in deep and rapid combat. Their swords like black and white blurs as they were swung and each attack was deflected. Their sturdy bodies were graceful as they moved to counter each attack. Both seemed immortal to each and every blow for neither of them were hurt at all during the swordfight. Xilivicus backed up on the ramps and soon they were upon the third story again. As both came together and clashed their swords, the Hero glanced over to the stone with a chuckle, "This is what you are guarding? A mere black orb… you should be guarding castle or princesses… if you even have that here. Why don't you just…" he shoved Xilivicus back and smiled, "let me take that from you, just like how I'm going to take your life and your precious prisoner."

Xilivicus's eyes widened as he muttered, "Elizabeth…"

The Hero grinned, "Ah! So you do know her! It seems that I happened to hear a few of your brethren talking about you and your… attraction to Ms. Asquerana. Actually, in the beginning I suspected that you, being the great monstrosity that you are who gets everything he desires, were her Master."

The Churl snarled and swung his sword at the human, "You know nothing about me," he snapped with a thunderous voice as they once again engaged in combat.

Elizabeth sat upon the floor with a bowed head. He had been gone for such a long time! Was there the possibility that the Sigil Keeper had defeated him? Her heart began to ache as she saw the last bit of hope for leaving this realm flutter out into a dark frigid breeze. With anxiety pulsing throughout her very veins, she could not resist but to push herself up upon her own feet and storm into the Sigil Keep. The path seemed jugged like a mountain and upon entering she stood in awe of an astounding room where the spiraling inferno flew through a crimson flower blossom with a steel pistil in the center. The girl trembled at the sight but quickly the courage of the gods overcame her and she sprinted up the stairs not being winded once.

The Hero chuckled as it seemed the Xilivicus was losing his edge, "Did I hit a soft spot, sweetheart?"

Xilivicus bit into his dark purple lips drawing an even darker swirl of blood. He swung harder and nearly knocked the sword from his opponent's hand, "No… you merely fueled my anger."

"Your _Anger_?" questioned the Hero with a cocked eyebrow as he blocked a few more attacks from his rival, "Are you embarrassed of being associated with a mortal? How selfish you are!"

As the Hero swung his blade down and pinned his rival's blade, Xilivicus glared up and swiftly head butted him. The spikes on his helmet tore into his skin and the Hero jerked back with a snarl. His blade became wobbly in his grasp and Xilivicus stepped forward and kicked his foot up and the sword flew out of his hand and twirled upon the ground. The Hero gasped and glanced over at his sword. Xilivicus stood erect and grinned behind his helmet as he held the blade to the Hero's throat, "You're beginning to unravel. Is Elizabeth some interest to you, too?"

The Hero spat out a glob of blood and saliva then he answered, "Yea… she's gonna to be my wife."

Xilivicus's eyes widened and he froze. The Hero saw his hesitation and quickly darted forward, knocking the sword from the Churl's hand. Xilivicus glanced over to it and his vision became blurred and all he could hear was Elizabeth's voice echo into his head. Then an image was painted onto the white canvas which was his mind. He saw Elizabeth running from the Tower when he first met her. She wanted to become free so badly. _You are a terrible, hideous monstrosity to this world and even my own! … I HATE YOU! Do you hear me? I hate you! _He heard her scream in his mind. He could even see the gleam in her eyes as she thought of Cyrodiil. Who was he to hold her back from all that she knew and loved? Especially to take her away from her soon-to-be husband.

The Hero grabbed his sword and swung it around, "Looks like I did hit a weak spot… perfect…"

Elizabeth ran up to the third floor breathing out huffs of hot air. She saw the Hero standing before an unarmed Daedra. The girl narrowed her eyes as she tried to see who it was. There was dimness swirling in the shadows which made it even harder to see anything. Xilivicus snapped back to reality just in time to see the Hero swinging the blade at his head. The Churl gasped and ducked just in time for the blade to pierce the top of the helmet. The helmet itself was ripped from his head and went spiraling down to the first story. He grunted as a chip of it pierced his lip and made a blood droplet roll down his chin. His long orange hair fell in waves across his armor as he looked upon the Hero with condemned eyes. His broken body about to rip at the seams as all his dreams and hopes cascaded into the blackest of abysses. The eyes of his mothers', Mara and Dibella, could not be seen through the blackness that had drowned him and took his soul.

The Hero lifted his sword one final time and just before he was going to make the final blow, Elizabeth screamed out, "Xilivicus!"

The Churl's eyes were lit on fire and he lifted his neck to see the High Elf standing at the entrance of the balcony. He furrowed his brow and called back to her, "…Elizabeth?"

A revolting hack sounded off like a gun and the Churl's glowing eyes widened. Between his feet, a few blood droplets fell and splattered across the ground. Elizabeth attempted to move forward but her feet seemed nailed to the floor. The Hero placed his hand firmly on Xilivicus's shoulder and he smiled as the hand upon his shoulder pushed down and the other hand brought up the sword in the Churl's gut.

Xilivicus's face twisted in pain as the sharpened blade cut through his innards and more blood flowed out and down his broken armor. His body finally began to feel coldness and with the loss of blood his mind no longer functioned perfectly. The image of Elizabeth that lingered in the halls of his mind slowly was overcome by pain and he could not see her face. His head fell down and the Hero grasped his rival's shoulder tightly and shoved him off his blade leaving it stained with blood and pieces of organs. Xilivicus's broken body hit the floor and the knight sheathed his blade and walked away to the Sigil stone.

The trembling Elven maiden sprinted to her friend's body. Tears swelled in her ocean eyes as she fell down beside him and leaned over him, to make sure he was still alive. She bit her quaking lips to hold back a sorrowful moan. The events seemed to happen so quickly that she could barely remember them happening at all. Right when the sword had pierced his flesh it was a catalyst to her own heartbreak. The Churl moaned and his watering eyes fluttered open, "E-Elizabeth," he muttered gently.

"Ssh-ssh-ssh…" she hushed him while moving a lock of bloodied and sweaty hair behind his jagged ear, "Y-You… don't have t… to." She shook her head and gritted her teeth as more tears began to develop in her eyes.

Xilivicus groaned and leaned his head up. His eyes fully opened and he saw her crying over him. He furrowed his dark brow and lifted his hand soon cupping her cheek. She leaned her head upon it and nuzzled it sweetie. She could smell his beautiful fresh air aroma that came from his soft lavender skin. She closed her eyes and tears trickled down. Her own hand rose and was placed over his making Xilivicus's dying heart to give off a giant pound. He smiled as he could feel that sensation once more consume him. As he closed his eyes he could no longer feel all the pain or see that he was heading towards the inevitable; instead, he saw Elizabeth's beautiful face and felt her presence all around him. As he opened his eyes he saw his necklace hanging down around her neck. His smile faded and his vision began to blur as he lost sight and his senses began to fail.

The Hero wrapped his fingertips around the stone and ripped it from its perch. The spiraling inferno rose now up into the skies were the clouds began to make cyclones and dark disasters. The Hero lifted his eyes in amazement, and soon, the whole Tower began to burst into flames. The chains supporting the third story began to give away and the sigil stand tilted to a side as it was about to lose complete balance. Elizabeth glanced back with a gasp. What was happening?! She tossed her head back to Xilivicus and before he opened his mouth she snarled, "I… won't leave you here… to die."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, "E-Either… way… I'll be dead."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she sighed unknowingly. The Hero slowly backed up while tucking the sigil stone into a pack on his greaves. Xilivicus was falling fast. His breathe slowed immensely and softly he whispered, "Go now, Elizabeth…. Tamerial… waits for you."

Elizabeth's eyes glossed over with full sadness as he died in her arms like a memory lost. His life began to whither away, she could see it. Quickly, she lowered herself and kissed his cheek. As she pulled her lips away she whispered, "I'll miss you."

His eyes fluttered closed and his hand caressed her cheek. With his dying breathe he had muttered, "… miss you… too." His fingertips hindered and slowly rolled down her cheek.

She watched as his hand fell limp to the floor and the essence of life within him had completely disappeared. Her mouth fell agape and slowly she began to sob over his corpse. The Hero glanced over the edge of the balcony and saw a white explosion burst through the tower floor. He turned and ran over to Elizabeth, soon shielding her from the blinding white light that surrounded them and soon transported them back to the front gate of Kvatch.

_**-TBC-**_

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_**Once again, sorry for the late updation. It might take a while for the next one too. Still quite sick and all. Merry St. Patrick's Day! R&R, please!**_


	9. Dagon's New Approach: The Chase

_**New update. Hope you enjoy.

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_**-+-**_

Elizabeth opened her eyes as the white explosion surrounded her. Her fingertips were gripping the bloodied Daedric armor. Suddenly, Xilivicus began to dematerialize like ash and scatter in this white storm. The High Elf tried to catch the particles but it was no use. The light became too blinding and she closed her eyes. There was a swirl of sound around her and just in seconds everything went dark. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see the Kvatch gate. A small gasp came from her lips as she saw her hometown before her. The Hero held her tightly and when his eyes opened he stood up and let go of the maiden.

They were transported back to Kvatch! He didn't imagine it happening _that_ way! He turned to see Savlian waiting behind their little spiked fence and he knew the war was not truly over. He grabbed Elizabeth and the two rushed over to the captain. As the Hero and Savlian spoke, Elizabeth stood back and out of the crowd with wide terrified eyes and a frail body. She had witnessed her friend die and she didn't even get to say goodbye. Her lips were cracking and dry as she breathed in the stale Kvatch air of burning houses and crumbling stone. Her heart stood on the edge of a canyon of misery as her mind toiled over Xilivicus's death and how she could have prevented it.

Yet, when she looked upon the fact of him being a Daedra she scolded herself and said, _He's a bloody animal from another realm. He feels no heartache or love or emotions at all! He died as he lived… an animal. Push him from your mind he is not worth worrying about! _Elizabeth bowed her head and turned towards the still monstrous charred backbone of the Oblivion gate that still loomed in the air. It did not seem as frightening now for it did not brandish the shimmering and hypnotizing portal. Her eyes diverted and the Hero walked over to her and embraced her, "You are free from that hellhole, Ms. Asquerana. I would love to escort you personally back to your father who waits for you in the Imperial City; however, it appears there are still people in Kvatch who need to be saved. I shall send you with my horse and talented guards to lead you there." He pulled away and gazed into her eyes with a childish smile, "Will you miss me?"

The Elf showed a weak smile as her mind was still toiling over many things. "You have been a wonderful guard and friend to me, sir. You risked your life for mine and for that I am forever grateful. Shall I see you after your escapade?"

He chuckled and stepped back soon bowing before her and taking her hand into his like a gentleman. He lowered her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand very gently. It was very gentle and smooth like silk. He glanced up to her and raised his eyebrows with a crooked smirk, "You couldn't get rid of me that easy, miss."

She laughed weakly and her hand retreated as he let go. "Then I shall see you in the city… goodbye, sir."

"Goodbye, milady." He replied while standing.

The Elf watched as the Hero ran back to Savlian and they soon gathered together and sprinted around their fortress of wooden spikes to breech the Kvatch door. Elizabeth quickly made her way down the trail where she would find the camp, a horse, and a few guards who awaited her.

-+-

There was a thunderous roar throughout Dagon's court as he was told that the Oblivion gate in Kvatch had been forever closed. The armrest to his throne began to crack and fall to pieces as he slammed his fists down harshly. His court members cowered and knew not why this angered him so easily. Certainly, it wasn't so hard to open the portal? Was it? Dagon's black veins pulsed with hatred as he thought of those humans closing his gates. Surely, many Daedra would be reborn this day for they gave up their pathetic lives to protect his gate. Dagon clashed his teeth together and then he looked down upon his court from his high throne and he bellowed, "Leave me be!"

The Daedra leapt from their stands and quickly ran from the room, begging pardon. The doors slammed and Dagon sat in his throne with deep thoughts burdening his head. All of his eyes closed together as he took a deep breathe, smelling brimstone and corpses rotting in a fiery pit. The grand courtroom reached high into the abyss and seemed to spread out so far that you could not see the edges of the room. In the middle of his meditation, there was a disturbance in the room. Dagon's eyes ripped open as he looked out into the dimness of the room. His lips needed not to move for the trespasser stepped forward before his throne and bowed. A mere follower, what was he to expect? The Hero who closed his gate? "What do you want?" snarled the Father of Destruction and Mayhem.

The Dremora's head lifted and a smirk spread across his black lips. Crimson eyes opened wide and the old commander of the Oblivion gate said, "I think, milord, that I might have a few answers to questions that might burden your mind."

-+-

The Spider Daedra swarmed through a crimson colored room that looked like a giant bubble of blood. In the center of the room there was a giant pit of steaming lava. Gases exploded from bubbles and floated up into the air making this room rather warm. The Daedra walked around the pit with narrowed eyes as they looked for a new arrival.

A giant bubble began to form near the edge of the pit and a Daedric woman slowly inched near with interested eyes. As the bubbles burst a skeleton hand seized the side of the pit. The Spider leapt back in shock as she saw a Dremora claw his way from the birthing pit. As the hand was consumed with air, muscle and flesh slowly began to form upon it. Vessels appeared from the bone and slowly began to encircle it like vines growing up a castle wall. Dark flesh appeared as well as follicles of hair and fingernails. The arm lifted the body from the pit and the same happened to the skeletal body that quickly grew organs and a dark heart that was caged by bone.

Fiery orange hair grew from the bald skull and two horns pierced through the skin and curved back. The Spider Daedra raised a pleased eyebrow as the man grew _everything_ upon his body. She chuckled and an older Spider Daedra rushed over and wrapped his bare body with a cloak. The man breathed his first deep breathe and nearly choked. He bent over and coughed up chunks of lava and rock. The elder Daedra sneered and looked him over, "My, my, my… look what we have here."

The Dremora looked up and glared at the Spider. His tangerine eyes pierced through the darkness and lightened fear deep within the darkness of her heart. He pulled the cloak over his drenched body as he stumbled to the door with a gruff, "Leave me be…"

The elder Daedra chuckled and quickly followed after him, "We're not the welcoming committee, dear Xilivicus. We came to deliver to you a message."

"And that would be?" said the Churl who gave her a side glance.

"Make your way to the court, brother," said the Daedra who opened the door to the grand hallway that led to the courthouse, "Dagon wants to speak to you privately."

Xilivicus's heart seized and he nearly fell in incredulity. The court? He hadn't been there in so many years. What was it that Lord Dagon wanted of him? He swallowed down a lump of anxiety as he pulled the robe tighter upon him. His shifty eyes were frozen onto the hall as he quickly paced down the corridors to the courthouse. With each and every step he took his heart grew louder and louder. His dark lavender tongue licked his lips as they became as dry as the planes of Oblivion. What could Dagon possibly want from him? He approached the grand doors with a shaking physique. The fiery designs made his heart cower within him and quickly he pushed the doors opened and entered. Around the round ebon table was seated only one Dremora and before the slab was the high throne of which Dagon was seated. His eyes quickly moved to the visitor and he leaned back with a sneer hiding on the corner of his lips.

Xilivicus looked far up to see the web-like designs on the ceiling that allowed the light of the crimson sky to flow down like moon silver. There was a crack of thunder and Xilivicus moved forward and quickly fell to his knees where he bowed before his lord. "You called upon me, my Lord?"

Dagon stroked his chin as he looked down upon his follower with detestable eyes. His jagged rotting teeth sticking out from his jaw like knives. "Yes… Xilivicus… it has been such a long time since you were inside my court. It appears that I am in need of your… loyalty."

"Anything for you, my lord," chimed the Churl with closed eyes.

"Yes… I hoped you would say that. Listen careful, subordinate, for the quest before you shall be a great one. You were the last to fall victim of Tamerial's knight and this was not tolerated from someone as powerful as you. I have spoken to a consultant of mine and new plans shall fall upon the land of Tamerial. You see, our great gate was enough to take down an entire city in a few moments. I had underestimated these mortals, and they have made a mockery of me. I wish for you to bring back the honor that was taken from me."

Xilivicus rose from his bow with a furrowed brow. His lips were pursed as he called up to his lord, "Take it back, my liege? How?"

"Ah, how naïve, my little Churl. You see, one gate was powerful enough to destroy an entire city. Imagine… what would happen… if gates opened upon every edge of Tamerial. Surely, great gates would take too much time and energy and they would be closed before we got another stabilized. These gates shall be much smaller and use much less magicka. Imagine! Martin Septim, heir to the throne, shall have no where to run when gates open all over his land. Cities shall burn to the ground and in mere weeks I shall be the new emperor of the land."

Xilivicus's stomach twirled in his stomach and he felt rather woozy. "All… over the land, sire? Where do I fall into this plan?"

The consultant stood and smiled, "You shall lead the attack… with me as your commander."

Xilivicus tossed his eyes over and his body tensed. "…Broga…"

The Prince chuckled and bowed soon raising, "Have you missed me, brother?"

Dagon smirked and looked over to the Churl, "I have come to realize that there was a mortal who was claimed the Cyrodiil Academic. The gate was closed before she was brought to me; nonetheless, she was taken by the knight back to her homeland. Surely, she will move to a greater city where she believes shall be safe. A portal will be stabilized near the city I believe that it is and I wish for you and Broga to both venture forth into their world and claim her… I do not care if any blood is spilt or not. Retrieve her and bring her back to me… she will be the key to our success."

Broga bowed and called to his lord, "As you wish, my liege! We shall leave now with a quadrant of highly skilled Daedra to look for her," the commander turned and walked over to the Churl with a smirk, he glared at him and said, "The gate is already opened. Let us hurry."

Xilivicus stared him down and as Broga left the room and the Churl was about to, he was stopped by the thunderous voice of his Master. He turned and looked up to Dagon who soon snarled, "Don't screw this one up, Churl."

The Churl bowed and called to him, "For you, my lord. I won't."

With that, Xilivicus rose and quickly followed after his hated commander.

-+-

The great white horse carried the girl with ease. Its heavy hooves clopped across the earth and the horse's head was held high as it had no worries in its mind. The guards were all armored and wielded great weapons. If a goblin or troll was to stroll onto the path they would chop it down in moments. Elizabeth felt entirely safe in this little haven that swarmed her like bees protecting a queen. Yet, she felt so unprotected and vulnerable. She felt the cold blowing upon her back, yet saw a Clannfear stalking her in her mind. The movement of the horse beneath her reminded her of how Broga attempted to take advantage of her. The voices of the guards… sounded like Xilivicus… protective and assuring.

"We are almost there, Miss Asquerana," called out a guard who sheathed his weapon.

The maiden, whose head was bowed, merely nodded in acknowledgement. Her mind was still stuck upon Oblivion. The scenery astounded her and the creatures had haunted her memories; however, there was one person that stuck with her the most. He was a Daedra and her attraction to him astounded her the most. They were claimed to be hating and cruel creatures, yet, he showed her the most care and love that anyone had ever showed her. Could it be… that Daedra were misunderstood?

The moon was clouded by dark purple clouds and the guards pulled out torches to light their way. The Elf leaned upon the horse with a moan. Her fatigued eyes began to burn and the looming sensation to fall asleep began to devour her. Her mind began to tire her so she wiped her mind clean and thought of nothing but blackness. The noise of the night echoed around her and acted as a metronome that would hypnotize her to fall into a slumber.

One of the guards glanced back with fortified eyes. He was certain that no creature would attack from behind; however, he wanted to be fully aware if one did. He turned forward and looked to his fellow comrades, "… could you imagine being held hostage in Oblivion?"

A Redguard turned his head and thought deeply. "I bet it would be horrible. Treated like an animal… I'm not sure how the girl handled it. Surely she was—no… I don't even want to think about that."

An imperial guard turned and scowled, "Why didn't they kill her? Daedra ain't the most hospitable of animals."

The first guard snorted and continued walking. The guards led on in silence for a while wishing that Elizabeth would get the rest that she truly deserved. Her day had been hard for she had witnessed much that she never dreamed she would; the death of foes, the attack of Oblivion, and the death of a beloved. She thought of Xilivicus as a close friend and she had truly wanted him to be a part of her life in Tamerial, yet it seems his death ended those dreams.

Try as she might, she could not catch a wink of sleep. There was a soft chime and she opened her eyes and looked down to the necklace dangling from her neck. Her heart began to feel profound and she knew that she needed to get over his passing. It was part of the divine plan… she thought. If he died then he was meant to die.

The guards carried on and in a few moments Elizabeth had called out to them, "Excuse me, gentlemen," they turned and looked at her. She licked her lips as she caught their attention and she questioned, "I need to… relieve myself."

The Imperial coughed and turned away not sure how to answer. The Redguard chuckled and nodded towards the forest, "The toilet is right there."

She smiled and the Redguard helped her down from her horse. The two Imperials checked the area and reported back with absolutely no sightings of any creatures. Elizabeth rushed off with a frown. She really didn't need to relieve herself. She had done that before they started their trip. With three guards by her side for many hours she forgot what it felt like to feel lonely. As she ran behind a tree she leaned upon it and took a deep breathe. The silence and darkness of the woods was alluring. She slowly slid down the trunk and sat upon the forest ground. Her lips were dry as were her eyes. However, she didn't feel the need to cry. Her tears were already shed.

Her pale hands rose and ran through her long silver hair. Her eyes clenched closed as she rested upon the moist supple ground. She swallowed to wet her parched throat and then she looked up to see a gloomy mist fall upon the wood. The looming trees looked like black giants. As she looked up to a redwood, the black figure reminded her of the Sigil Tower. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to force Oblivion from her mind. It lingered in her thoughts and haunted her dreams. What a world she was in! She loved it all, so much more then she could ever love Tamerial. But, how absurd it was to think that.

She relaxed for a while longer and slowly she rose to her feet. Her guards were waiting for her. It was not going to be good if she kept them waiting for long. As she became fully relaxed she tromped back through the forest to the trail. She saw her horse waiting and she smiled as she walked back onto the path.

However, right when she stepped onto the path she could hardly see the color of the horse. Had the guards dosed the torches? The moonlight shone upon the horse and Elizabeth could see a crimson residue rolling down the short hairs of the horse's body. Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she looked to the ground and saw the slaughtered corpses of the guards. Her hands grabbed her mouth as she saw their mutilated bodies lying upon the bronze dirt.

The path acted as a table and the bodies appeared to be dissected. Their armor was shredded through like it was merely a crumbling ash. Their bodies torn and exposed and their innards seemed blended together. There was a groan and Elizabeth tossed her head over to an Imperial guard who was on the edge of death. "E-Elizabeth?" he whispered out into the darkness.

The High Elf stumbled over and kneeled down beside him, "W-What happened?" She questioned with a faltering voice. She felt pitiful tears glistening in her eyes.

The guard's eyes rolled back and he groaned, "M-Monsters… t-terrible… beasts," he tried to force himself up but his wounds held him back. He sighed deeply and laid his head back, "T-Take the horse… ride fast… they're watching. They came… for…" He slipped off into blackness.

Elizabeth tapped his cheek many times to keep him awake, "They came for what?" She called out to him.

The guard's eyes fluttered and he groaned, "… you." He fell dead before her and the maiden merely sat there.

Her eyes were wide as she began to piece the puzzle together. Her eyes shifted back and forth and she quickly rose to her feet and looked into the shadows around her. How many were there? She did not know. She leaned over and took the guard's sword and quickly made her way to the horse. The guards were dead. There was no help for them. She leapt upon the horse and tied the sword to its saddle. Her heels clicked into the horse's sides and she cried out for it to go.

The horse nearly reared as it took off in a fast gallop down the path. Parts of the path were torn up with the hooves and flew into the air as the horse raced like an arrow down the path. Elizabeth was hunched over making sure she didn't leave herself vulnerable for an attack. Her eyes searched the path hoping nothing was to spring out. Golden White Tower was recognizable from here. It would not be long until she was in the Imperial City.

Her heart was pounding as she rode along, her eyes straight ahead. Suddenly, from the trees came a giant reptile. Its scales glimmered in the moonlight and its golden eyes narrowed as it leapt onto the horse and took it down with a colossal maul. Elizabeth screamed and soon flew from the saddle. She covered herself as she rolled across the ground a few times. Rocks scrapped her skin and clothes soon making her outfit tattered and torn. She pushed herself up with frightened eyes. The Daedroth pinned the horse down as it practically ripped off its limbs. The horse cried out in terror and agony as it was eaten alive.

Elizabeth got up and stumbled backwards down the path as her eyes could not move from the scene she was witnessing. The Daedra… they were the ones who attacked the guards! Wait, the Oblivion Gate was closed! How could they get into her realm? And what would they possibly want with her?! She turned and began running down the path. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she could see the torchlight from a small village near the bridge of the Imperial City. She heard a roar behind her and she feared that the Daedroth was upon her heels. She cried out and forced herself to run even faster. Her muscles began to burn and she could feel the sweat roll down her cheeks and stain her borrowed shirt.

The snarl became louder and she feared to look behind her. She could hear the trample upon the ground and feared that the warmth down her neck was not that of the winds. Frustrated tears appeared in her narrowed eyes as she ran even faster. Her body was burning itself for she had never ran this far, or even this long, before. An Imperial Legion Forester walked out of an Inn and furrowed his brow as he saw the maiden run to him. Was she going to attack him? He grabbed his bow but before he could remove it, she leapt onto him and cried out, "HELP! I-It's trying to kill me! I-It… i-it… killed the guards! I… I saw their bodies!" She nearly sobbed onto his shirt, "Please! Help me!"

The guard lingered in his spot; flabbergasted. He glanced over her shoulder and saw nothing but the dark path winding off into the woods. He held her tightly and tried to soothe her, "Now, now, miss. I think that the darkness is playing tricks on yer mind. Don't worry. I'll escort ya into the city," he chuckled, "Look… its fine. There's nothing following ya."

The trembling Elf let go of his shirt and glanced back. She saw nothing upon the path at all. Not even a figure lurking in the shadows or marks upon the ground. She sniffled and breathed heavily soon turning back to the guard. She looked up at him, for she was not tall at all for a High Elf. He smiled weakly and soon escorted her to the Imperial City, the girl never looking in one place for too long.

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**_R&R!_** **_I write a new chapter when I get a few reviews-- just remember that, mmk? Hah. Hope you enjoyed. New Installment when I get a few more reviews (No I'm not bribing you) _**


	10. The Assassins' Arrival: Liberation

**_New update. I know you'll enjoy... and wish to kill me._**

_**Preferred Song: "Surround U" – Serge Devant**_

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Broga leapt high from a mahogany tree in the forest with a glare lingering in his crimson eyes. He landed with a heavy thud yet the shock had not hurt him at all. He stormed over to the dead cadaver of the Daedroth and quickly his eyes flew up to the murderer. "Why did you kill one of our own agents?!"

Xilivicus narrowed his eyes, "It was going to kill her! Lord Dagon said to bring her back _alive_! Also, if the guard was to see it, he would alert all of the Imperial City and everyone would know that we are here, in other words, mission failed!"

A few Daedra leapt from the branches, black robes wrapped around their bodies. Broga snorted and shoved Xilivicus out of the way, "The Daedroth could have torn down the guard and taken the girl back to us."

"It was a creature! How would it have known to distinguish between the girl and its prey? I'm not going to sit back and watch your follies cost us this mission!" Xilivicus snarled as he watched Broga drag the corpse through the undergrowth to conceal it from any travelers.

Broga shoved the massive body under a gargantuan bush. He turned and sneered, "Secure the area, and find a way into the Imperial City by not being seen. Moving in the night shall be our best bet to get the girl."

The Daedra saluted and quickly ran off. Just as Xilivicus turned to leave, Broga seized his shoulder and jerked him back with a snarl, "It's not the mission you're thinking about, Churl. Need I remind you that she is nothing more than a mortal? A backstabbing, deceiving, and heartbreaking vixen? Black her out from your mind before I need to report you to Dagon for insubordination."

Xilivicus ripped his shoulder out of his commander's grasp. His eyes casting a hateful gaze into the dark abyss of night. "Let us get this over with, I do not care to be here any longer, Broga."

The commander nudged past him and quickly followed after his assistants. Xilivicus furrowed his brow and looked up to the great wide sky. The moon shined like river water and it fell down upon him filling his body with energy. The cold wind rushed past him and he closed his eyes. He hadn't hoped that his first experience of Tamerial would be in this situation; chasing down Elizabeth to turn her over to Dagon. The Churl saw Broga waving him on with angered eyes. He sighed and quickly ran out into the night to follow his commander and fellow assassins to do the darkest of deeds.

-+-

The guard pushed open the old worn door to the 'King and Queen's Tavern'. Inside there was chatter from many pub patrons and a few High Elves speaking in the back with many books surrounding them. The guard grinned and nodded, "Yes, I'm pretty sure that Lord Asquerana is here. Check with the owner to see if he has rented out a room… stay here, alright?"

Elizabeth walked over to a bench and sat down. Sweat still burdened her forehead and she could not silence her heavily pounding heart. Her eyes closed and she took slow deep breathes hoping that might calm her. She swore she saw a Daedroth attack her horse! What else could it have been? Maybe a mountain lion… that was the size of an Ogre. Maybe it was a troll, it was night afterall and the moonlight could have lightened the troll's body... and made him look like a giant Daedric reptile.

The guard walked back and grinned, "Your father is in the first room up in the living quarters. I didn't know that you were a member from Kvatch! How lucky you are to be alive, I do hope that you get a good night of rest, miss. If you ever need me I'll be patrolling the city."

Elizabeth stood with a weak smile, "Thank you, sir. I am really glad I had someone to escort me here."

The guard bowed with a chuckle, "No problem, ma'am. Blessings of Talos upon ye."

The High Elf hastily rushed across the room and made her way up the stairs. She nearly tripped upon her ripped pants as she darted up the stairs and burst through the living quarters' door. She gave the corridor a glance then quickly saw the first door. A smile lit up her face and she quickly ran into the room, "Father, I'm-"

She stopped and frowned. There was no one in the room. She sighed and walked over to the bed to sit down. Possibly, he had gone out for a short walk. Surely, he would be back before the night was fully over. Her icy blue eyes lifted and she looked at the interesting curios and trinkets that lay around the room. There was a table and a small feast prepared, a desk with a journal and a few scrolls of parchment, and there was a dresser slightly opened exposing her father's robes and fancy outfits. She pushed herself up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. Her pale fingertips pushed opened the doors even more and she could smell the fresh wood smell inside the wardrobe.

Her hands wrapped around one of her father's shirts and she pulled it close soon nuzzling it. Her eyes closed and she could see her father. The aroma of a pipe and apples, his favorite food, swirled within the fabric and the girl forgot all about her burdens. Slowly, within her mind, a house began to appear. The rooms came together like puzzle pieces and furniture appeared from nothing. It was her house.

She saw her brothers wrestling in the foyer, Bromus cooking splendid meals in the kitchen, her mother admiring herself in one of their many mirrors, and her father sitting before a fireplace reading papers and writing down things in a journal. The fireplace shone a beautiful golden color, causing the cobblestone fireplace to glow the same. Her father placed down his papers and tossed his eyes up to her. His icy eyes pierced through the dimness and a smile lightened his serious chiseled face.

The images began to run like raindrops down a window and soon her imagination had disappeared. Elizabeth opened her tired eyes and she slowly let go of the shirt with a frown. She had missed her family. Was that even possible of her? She had scorned and battled with her family the last twenty years of her life. She claimed to hate them; yet, in this moment… she missed them more then anything.

The girl turned back to the bed and furrowed her brow. She wished she was back in her home in Kvatch. She wanted to help Bromus cook mutton, she wanted to help her mother comb her long beautiful hair, and she wanted to secretly wrestle with her brothers in the basement. A profound sigh was let out and just as the girl was going to sit down a familiar hoarse voice called from the door way, "Elizabeth?"

Her long curved ears perked and she nearly broke her neck as she swirled around to see her father standing in the doorway. Jerald's eyes widened and tears came to his eyes as he saw his only begotten daughter; alive. The girl grinned brightly as she ran over to her father and embraced him with wide loving arms. She shoved her head into his shoulder and wept, "Oh, father! I didn't… I didn't think I'd see you again!"

Jerald clung tightly onto her with tears rolling down his cheeks. His lips could not hold a smile for they quivered because he was about to sob loudly like a mere child. "E-Elizabeth… I've missed you so much."

This was the first time in their lives that they had ever come together in such a manner. Usually, they greeted each other with a handshake or Elizabeth would curtsey. No, this was the first hug that they had ever shared. Elizabeth's heart swelled in her chest and she pulled away slightly. She chuckled lightly, wiping tears from her eyes and even her father's eyes. "W-Where's mother?"

"She's in Anvil with her sister… the boys are with her as well, Bromus too. I came here to find the strongest fighter to go into Oblivion to save you. I've given up practically everything to get here. Oh, it's so wonderful to see you again!" He then trailed off and looked down to her bloody and worn clothes, "… what has become of your clothes, girl?! Let me rush off right now and find you something suitable to wear!"

"No," said the maiden, "I like these clothes. A… a good friend of mine had given them to me."

Jerald furrowed his brow then quickly understood. It must have been the Hero! He smiled and nodded, "As you wish, my darling. Now that we are on the matter, I would like to ask you what you thought of the knight who saved you. Did you like him?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes with a confused smile, "He was very sweet and kind, if that is what you are asking."

The High Elf lord shook his head with a chuckle, "No, no, no… I meant did you _like_ him."

Elizabeth frowned and glanced towards the ground hoping that the answer was somewhere sketched into the wooden floor. She liked him, but she was certain that she didn't like him in the way her father was thinking. "I… I…"

"Ah, no worries about that," Jerald grinned. "You've had a hard night getting here and I'm sure that you are tired. There is a washroom down the hall and the room right next to mine shall be yours. Is there anything that you need? Food? Drink?"

Elizabeth nodded and began walking to the door, "I would like lettuce and strawberries."

Jerald raised a confused eyebrow and questioned, "Lettuce and… strawberries?"

The maiden glanced back and nodded, "Yes, that will do." She walked down the hall to the washroom to clean herself up, leaving her father in the bedroom befuddled.

-+-

In the Elven Garden District upon a small garden area, a sewer hole became unsheltered. Broga lifted himself out of the sewer and looked around cautiously seeing no guards in the immediate area. He shuffled out onto the ground and crouched down soon waving on his fellow agents. The assassins leapt out of the sewers with ease, making hardly a sound at all. Xilivicus lifted himself out of the sewer and he looked to Broga with questioning eyes.

The commander walked to the sidewalk and glanced down both ways seeing guards walking by. He cursed lightly and turned back to his agents. The cold breeze blew upon them, causing Broga's long black hair to coil in the wind like venomous snakes. His eyes still alight with sin and devotion to Dagon. The commander glanced up to the walls of the nearby buildings and he whispered lightly, "Is there a possibility to scale the walls, Kynmarcher?"

The Kynmarcher Assassin furrowed his brow and walked over. His dark fingertips caressed the limestone walls and he nodded, "Yes, sir."

Broga nodded and turned to the other assassins, "We shall scale the walls and look down upon the city. We have five hours until sunrise. We don't have much time at all. If we are not successful on this night then we must retreat to the sewers and stay there until the next night, understood?"

The assassins all nodded and quickly walked up to the walls. From the belts of their robes they removed small gauntlets with many spikes upon the rough palms. They slammed their hands down into the wall and slowly they began lifting and pulling themselves up the walls until they were at the top. The first assassin to reach the top tossed down the gauntlets to Broga. The commander grinned as he slipped the gauntlets over his strong firm hands. He quickly scaled the wall and just as he was about to toss down the gauntlets he saw a guard walking into the small garden area where Xilivicus was. Broga's heart seized and he ducked down low, hoping the guard had not seen his figure.

Xilivicus furrowed his brow as he saw torchlight from the corner of his eyes. He glanced over and saw a guard aimlessly walking into the garden. He glared up to Broga and saw his commander hissing silently, 'Get out of there now!'

The Churl pulled up his ebon hood that nearly concealed his entire face. His jaw and chiseled lips was the only thing you could see. His horns were not vertical as much as other Daedra so his hood did not fully show the curve of his horns. Xilivicus turned and walked out upon the street hoping the guard was not suspicious of him. Broga watched with intrigued eyes as it appeared no guardsman cared of the hooded Dremora stalking the streets. They were completely oblivious to him!

Broga walked along the rooftop and called out gently to his fellow Kyn who walked down a deserted alley to fully hear Broga, "You seem to be hidden enough, Churl! Scourge through the Inns and ask about Kvatch! Surely you will learn the hiding place of that bloody vixen and her own Kyn! Report when you have learned something!"

Xilivicus' mouth fell open in shock. Broga wanted him to impersonate a human? The charade would not last long at all with his purple skin! Yet… he could be mistaken for a Dark Elf. He had seen one traveling through the city and the skin tone was not that far off. The Churl nodded and took the new orders quickly. He walked down the streets entering one tavern at a time. He walked down the main street to see Luther Broad's Boarding house. This was going to be his first stop, and after that was the King and Queen Tavern.

-+-

Elizabeth walked into her room before going to the washroom. She examined the room and laid upon the bed for a few minutes still trying to calm her pounding heart. When her eyes closed she could still see those piercing tangerine eyes. Her eyes ripped open and she looked up to the ceiling. As she thought of him, it seemed like he was just another creature who had passed from this world onto the next. Surely, in a few days she would not toil over his death at all. Her hand caressed her neck and she felt the artic gold rope freeze her fingertips. She removed the necklace and placed it upon her bedside hoping that might calm her burdened mind.

She flipped onto her side and stared at her cupboard wondering if her father had placed dresses and such in there for her. She pushed herself up and walked over to the cupboard opening it with careful hands. Her eyes searched the inside and she could see linens and many shoes as well as full outfits. The blue one was her favorite for it had enhanced the icy colors of her eyes. She went through the rest of the cupboard and realized there were no washcloths for her use. Her brow furrowed and she quickly made her way out of the room and to the main stairs. She skipped down them and with shifty eyes she looked upon the dining area of the tavern.

Even at this hour it had appeared that there were so many people. There were many drunkards and off-duty guards who walked around the room making sure no one hurt themselves and there were a few stragglers who hid themselves upon the benches and chairs in the back of the room. They merely watched with intrigued eyes as men fell from their stools drenched in sweat and ale or as a drunkard tried to joke around with the guards about stealing something from their neighbors.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly for she had missed this much familiarity from her hometown of Kvatch. She walked around the tables and made her way to the owner. She leaned over the table and tried to speak over the thunderous laughter and hollers from the patrons. "Excuse me, sir! Do you happen to have a towel or washcloth for the washing room? I didn't find any in my room and I thought-"

The owner smiled while drying a wet mug with a dark toffee colored towel, "The washcloths and such are supplied in the basement to make sure that no one steals them. Here's the key," he pulled out a rusted golden key from under the desk and handed it to her, "Bring it back to me when you're done. I'm certain that you won't run off with it, will ye?"

"Oh no, sir," she laughed gently, "I'm no thief."

Elizabeth turned and held tightly upon the key as she walked across the room to the basement door. She avoided hitting drunkards and shifting elves that seemed consumed in research and such. She shuffled as two men walked past her and she begged pardon. Just as she was about to the door she had run into a Dark Elf. She nearly fell over with a laugh, "Sorry, sir," she informed while bowing a tad, "I hadn't seen you there."

The man stood absolutely immobile. He pursed his dry lips and nodded gently, not replying verbally at all. Elizabeth walked past him and slid the key within the hole soon opening the old basement door. She slipped in and soon the door closed.

The man pushed back his black hood and tangerine eyes appeared from the darkness. His dark purple lips curved in a scowl. If he followed Broga's orders, he would slip into the basement, knock the girl unconscious and call in the troops to somehow sneak her out and back into the sewers. But if he were to follow his conscious, he would not intrude on her and expose himself. There was still the matter of his resurrection that she hadn't known about. Surely, this was the best way for her never to remember him.

His hood fell back over his face as he stooped his head low hoping the thoughts would roll through his mind so he could realize the right and wrong of the situation. Suddenly, a light flashed within his head and his eyes jerked up to the stairs. That's where she had come from. If he could find her room then perhaps he could somehow expose Dagon's plan but not expose himself. Yes, that seemed somewhat logical. What the hell, that was logical enough for him. He wasn't some perfect scholar.

Xilivicus maneuvered through the tavern and quickly made his way up the stairs; his stance burdened with strife and foreshadowed problems that were soon going to arise.

Elizabeth exited the basement with a washcloth and towel in her arms. She smiled as she returned to the owner and presented him with the key. She walked up the stairs and entered the living quarters, soon heading for the washroom. Upon entering, she saw a bathing tub filled with fresh warm water. She sighed sweetly and quickly undressed from her clothes. Her pale toes touched the water and upon contact the girl nearly melted. A profound blissful sigh escaped her lips as she merely relaxed in the water. The dirt and grim was washed from her skin with oils and shampoos.

Her long silver hair became as soft as silk as she washed it. Her skin became like porcelain and just as white as snow. She rolled in the water and giggled as she could remember the old days of when she thought the washtub was an ocean and she would swim around in circles pretending to be on a deep sea adventure. As she came from the water, the room had altered and she saw the washroom of Oblivion. Her eyes widened and her heart screamed out in shock. As the water came from her eyes the image had disappeared and she was once again back in Tamerial. She looked around nervously. Her breathe was rushed and her imaginary journey had come to an end.

She slipped from the tub and the water rolled down her pale curves and drenched the rug near the tub. She lifted the towel and wrapped it around her soon drying her. A fine brush was sitting upon a counter and she hastily used it to get the knocks out of her hair. She got dressed and knew that she would not like being alone. She would need to speak with her father about getting her a personal guard or just a steward to walk with her anywhere and everywhere. For it seemed not even in the Imperial City, was she safe.

-+-

Xilivicus cracked the second door of the living quarters and slipped in noiselessly. There appeared to be no one in the room at all. This might have been a fine indication that this was Elizabeth's room. The Dremora sauntered about in search for clues or little hints showing that it was indeed Elizabeth's room. There were no suggestive clothes or parchment with her handwriting or any such journals or pictures. As the Churl was about to leave, he saw a glitter of gold from the corner of his eye. He stopped and glanced over to see his necklace lying upon the bedside. He furrowed his brow and walked over; making certain that it was truly his and not just a stand-in. He picked it up with his long curled fingernails. The touch seemed unworldly smooth and just as cold as ice.

Indeed, this was surely his.

The Churl gripped tightly upon the necklace with closed eyes. Mara… Dibella… they had betrayed him. They convinced him that Elizabeth was… the woman for him; however, the outcome of it all showed that Elizabeth was married and she needed naught of the presence of the Dremora in her life. For she loved Tamerial and hated all things Oblivion or even Daedric.

Xilivicus placed down the necklace and banished the thought of the goddesses from his mind. As he was about to leave, a voice called out to him which made his muscles tense.

"Excuse me, what are you doing in my daughter's room?" questioned a slightly angered High Elf.

Xilivicus spun around with wide eyes. His daughter? Was this the hateful father of whom Elizabeth spoke of? The Dremora bowed his head and said, "Accept my apologies, friend. I had thought this was my own room. It... it seems the owner was not very specific of which room was mine. He said second to the stairs… I suppose he meant the other set of stairs. Forgive me for the big misunderstanding."

Jerald narrowed his eyes as he could hardly see the face of this man. He was slightly suspicious; yet, he seemed sincere and kind enough. "You are forgiven, brother Elf. But I must ask that you remove yourself from my daughter's room before she has returned. She was one of the only survivors from Oblivion. I want her to rest and feel no millstones at all."

The Churl nodded and began walking to the door, "I fully agree with you. I did not mean to cause an interruption. If I had disturbed any of her valuables then please tell her that I am very sorry and that I beg pardon. Now… if you shall excuse me, it appears that I have a room to be getting to. Goodnight, sir."

Jerald narrowed his eyes and gave a short nod. This man almost seemed out of place from the rest of the tavern. The High Elf gave the man an unconvinced fleeting look as he hissed thoughtfully, "Yes, goodnight…"

-+-

Elizabeth walked quickly back to her room, carrying only her towel which she would hang from the cupboard door to dry for her next bath. As she entered the room she saw her father sitting upon her bed reading yet another book. The maiden smiled and greeted him, hoping not to frighten him so much. Jerald glanced up and grinned, "It's been quite a while, I suppose that you enjoyed your bath?"

"Certainly," said she, "it has been such a while since I had a clean tub to wash in. May I ask why you are in my room?"

The High Elf sighed and pushed himself off the bed with a groan, "There was an intruder in your room and I was merely making sure that he had not taken anything. I hadn't seen anything out of place so I just stuck around so I could inform you before you had gone to bed. Make sure you lock your door, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm perfectly safe here." She replied with a weak unconvinced smile.

Jerald closed his book and nodded, "Of course you are, dear. Now, we shall leave for Skingrad tomorrow afternoon to meet your mother, brothers, and Bromus. From there we shall find a new place to live until they restore Kvatch to its former glory. Get a good night's rest, Elizabeth. I'll need your full attention for tomorrow as we travel." The father kissed his daughter's forehead and soon walked out of the room.

Elizabeth watched him with a raised eyebrow. Ever since the Oblivion Crisis it appeared that he was so much more loving and frightened of anything happening to her. Possibly he was still shaky from the incident and with time he would fall back into his natural order. The maiden took notice of what her father said about the intruder and quickly she had glanced over to Xilivicus's necklace which was nestled upon the bedside table. The girl smiled sweetly and walked over to the door, closing and locking it. Just an Average lock, surely no one would attempt to get into her room.

The maiden walked over to the torches in the room and dosed them allowing only one candle to be the light in her room. As the light was dimmed the room turned a dark gold color and flickered from light to dark with the waving of the candle's flame. The girl tiredly walked over to her bed and removed her pants and shirt soon pulling back the inviting sheets and cuddling herself among the down comforter and the round stuffed pillows.

Her eyes began to droop and slowly she fell into a deep slumber with wild dreams plaguing her mind allowing the worries to slip out and vanish into the air.

-+-

Xilivicus sat attentively at a table upon the second floor. He tapped his long fingernails upon the top of the table as he waited for Jerald to return to his room to sleep. Elizabeth had gone to sleep right after she had returned to her room. Her father exited her room with cagey eyes giving the Dremora a shifty gaze. Surely he told his daughter of the Churl's attempt to hide in her room. This angered the Churl quite a bit.

He rolled his dark tongue over his jagged teeth soon clenching his jaw shut. An hour crawled by and Jerald had returned to his room after a drink or two of ale. The man would be out for quite a while, thought the Dremora. Xilivicus rose from his seat and silently walked over to Elizabeth's room. He leaned his head back and looked the door over. Simple door, nothing very complex to it.

The Dremora pushed his palms upon the door and softly whispered an incantation. Humans were not the only ones who knew of magic tricks. The door pulsed with energy and the lock soon came undone allowing the door to swing open. Xilivicus crouched down and snuck into the room like a shadow sneaking across a wall. Upon entering, he saw a very dark room with a dying candle as the only light. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of perfumes and oils. Surely, this was the maiden's room. He heard her soft uninterrupted breathes and knew for a fact that she was sleeping.

He had kept guard over her every time she lay down to take a nap or even at night to fall asleep. He had known precisely when she fell dead to the world. Xilivicus walked over to the edge of the bed and as he stepped close enough he pulled back his hood. His curved horns and long jagged ears exposed. His ginger waved locks falling into his face covering an eye. He swallowed and leaned down next to the bed as if he was to say his prayers. He could scarcely see the shadow of the girl's face. Her beauty was piercing even through the darkness.

She sighed deeply as she nuzzled her own hand that lay next to her heavy head. The Dremora lifted his hand and caressed his fingertips through her hair, pushing a few strands from her face. His face solemn and dismal as he looked upon a treasure that he knew he could never have. His heart rotted inside his black shell and quickly he became angered. His eyes closed and he knew that he must hold himself back. He opened his mouth and murmured to the Elf, "I miss you, my friend."

Her brow creased and she slept talked back tiredly, "…X-Xili…vicus?"

He feebly smiled as he caressed her warm pallid cheek. His heart began to break as he could sense the wonder in her voice that he was speaking to her. But unquestionably, she only thought it was a dream. "Yes, it is I," he whispered and rapidly cut to the chase, "Now, Elizabeth, listen carefully to what I tell you… Lord Dagon has sent Broga and a group of assassins to find you to take you back to Oblivion. They already know you are in a tavern here but they are not sure of which one. When you awake you must gather all your things and in the middle of day when the sun is on the highest you need to run as far and as fast as you can from here. Broga cannot travel in the day in fear of being sighted. Do you understand, Elizabeth?"

The girl furrowed her brow and her eyes moved behind her eyelids. The dream began to fill more like reality which allowed her mind to perceive these words. "Yes… I… I under…stand."

Xilivicus nodded and whispered even softer, "I cannot stay with you, my friend… I fear that Broga might know of me being here with you. If you flee while it is still dark Broga will surely follow. I wish I could stay with you longer, but I must leave." He hadn't wanted to speak these last words, he never wanted to say them to her but he knew that it was time to finally let her go, "Goodbye, Elizabeth."

He furrowed his brow despairingly and began to stand up. The Elf's hand covered the dark purple Daedric hand and as gentle as the spring breeze, Elizabeth muttered, "I love you."

He stopped.

His eyes widened in the darkness and his heart immediately began pounding. She was dreaming. Of course, she could have said that to anyone. No, she wasn't speaking to him. That was improbable, impossible, that was— "I love you, too." The words fell from his lips eagerly.

He continued to kneel and softly he repeated, unsure that he had said it the first time, "… I love… you too."

Elizabeth's hand lifted off of Xilivicus' hand and he was about to pull away when suddenly her hand had moved forward and wrapped around his firm neck. His eyes widened as she drew him closer to him. With each inch, his cheeks inflamed even more until they were practically a glowing lilac. Elizabeth leaned up and softly their lips came together. Xilivicus gasped and tensed for a moment hearing a thousand voices in his head roaring at him; however, he didn't give a damn.

His pupils grew large and gently his eyes fluttered closed as he cupped the girl's cheek and returned the kiss. His heart was kindled and his whole body was overwhelmed with warmth he never thought he could have. His fingertips caressed the smoothness of her skin and slowly slid through her silky locks of silver. Elizabeth sighed blissfully and she retreated her head laid it upon the pillow, her hand slowly sliding from his skin and joining her upon the bed.

Xilivicus opened his affectionate eyes and he could see and feel so much more then he ever had before. His lips were supple and moist instead of cracked and dry. His body was warm and comforting instead of hollow and as cold as ice. He wanted to crawl into the bed and lie with her. But slowly, reality had struck him. His brow creased and he slowly stood up, looking Elizabeth over.

This was not his lady.

This was not his world.

That wasn't even his kiss.

The Churl's lip quivered and he whispered again, "… goodbye."

His hood was drawn up and he noiselessly walked to the door. His head bowed in despair as his hand coiled around the knob and opened the door. This was the last and final time he would ever see Elizabeth, for he was going to return to a plane of Oblivion and never come back to Tamerial. The door had opened and Xilivicus stepped out and—

"Let me guess…" snarled the High Elf Jerald who stood in front of Elizabeth's door with two armored guardsman. The High Elf glared upon the Dremora with heated eyes as he questioned, "Wrong room?"

_**-TBC-**__**

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_**Didn't see that coming, did you? Or... you did... then my surprise was ruined. Oh well. R&R. You know you want to.**_


	11. The Imperial Bastion

**_I'm really glad that people like my story. In art I'm painting a picture of Xilivicus with his hood on looking all determined with his orange eyes really vivid. I enjoy the beauty of Daedra. New Update, hope you enjoy.

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_**-+-**_

The first rays of the sun began to pierce through the clouds and cause an array of fuchsia and golden colors to be painted across the heavens. Birds began to awake and twitter in the trees with excitement for a new day. Upon the rooftops of the Elven Gardens, Broga waited with agitated eyes. His black nails tapped across the limestone roof and he hissed fouled curses within his mind. How long should it take to capture a weak elf? An assassin tossed his eyes to the sky and he hissed in a dark hoarse voice, "Sir… its dawn… perhaps he had been slain."

"No," Broga snarled back while tossing his eyes up, "We would have seen guards walking in and out like mad." The commander shoved himself up onto his strong, yet sore, feet and he sighed deeply, "We must retreat to the sewers. If he comes out he will surely know where we are. Xion…"

The Assassin lifted his silver eyes and hissed, "Yes, sir?"

Broga glanced back to the tavern and he let out a profound sigh as he demanded, "Infiltrate and find out what happened to him."

Xion sheltered a wicked crazed smirk on his cracking bloody lips and he nodded, "It would be my honor, sir." He glanced down to the tavern and quickly ran to the edge of the roof. As he leapt off the building, a green swirl had encased his entire body and slowly he vanished within the air like a phantom. Broga grinned and backed up soon following his associates down the wall and into the sewers.

As one of the assassins propped upon the grate, he glanced up and questioned, "You don't think that he and the girl are…"

Broga's eyes lit up and nearly lit the assassin on fire who cringed and withdrew to some extent with alarm. The commander scoffed and snarled quietly, "For his sake… he better not be," the black Dremora leapt into the sewers and disappeared from the daylight.

-+-

Xilivicus lowered his head knowing that if they would give his face a closer look they would realize he was not what he pretended to be. He took a step back in anxiety as the guards and Jerald stood before him just like statues. The crystal eyes of the lord tore through the hood and attempted to unmask the man before him. "Well, Dunmer… I'm waiting."

The Churl's eyes lifted up slightly and the pupils began to disappear in a fiery pit. He didn't foresee getting caught at this point. He desired to return to Oblivion and tell Lord Dagon that he didn't wish to be a part of this mission. Therefore, he hadn't conjured up an excuse if he was detained. The Dremora's hand quivered beside his belt where a dagger was concealed. No—he couldn't hurt this man. It was Elizabeth's father. His hand relaxed and the cogs in his mind revolved around as he began to think.

Suddenly, Xilivicus had ripped himself through the air and tossed himself at one of the guards. He snarled as he launched his boot into the air and blasted the guard backwards. Jerald's eyes widened and he quickly moved out of the way for he was unarmored and carried no weapon. The guard collided with the wall harshly and the breathe was shoved out of his lungs. He choked and tried to breathe as his fellow guard unsheathed his sword and positioned himself. A sneer spread across his lips as he lifted the blade and swung it forward. Xilivicus quickly ducked and spun around sideswiping the guard with his heel causing a dent in the side of his armor. The Dremora crouched and watched as the first guard snarled soon regaining his balance. His feet shuffled across the floor as he darted forward attempting to tackle the criminal to the ground.

The guard forced himself upon the Churl and grasped his arms holding them behind his back making him fall upon his knees, "Continue to resist arrest and your life shall be forfeit!"

The Churl's eyes widened and he clenched his jagged teeth as he freed his arms from behind his back and thrusted his elbow into the guard's face. Bones broke and blood quickly rolled down the guard's lips as he nearly fell back upon his rear. Xilivicus was lifted back up to his feet and he turned and held his hands up rather to protect or destroy. The second guard sprinted forward and grunted as he lifted his sword and swiped fast and true. The blade pierced the Dremora's robe and flesh and Xilivicus stumbled back. Blood droplets formed and began to stain his robe. His head lifted and he prepared himself for the next swing.

Humans were barbaric and unthinking when it had come to fights such as these. Daedra were skilled and gave thought to each action and reaction. The guard lifted his blade with all his energy and quickly brought it down. The Dremora's eyes narrowed as he could see the blade cut through the air and fall to him. His hands burst through the atmosphere and just as the blade came down he slapped the blade in between his palms and twisted it soon pulling it from the guard's grasp.

The Imperial watched in dismay as Xilivicus twisted it and tossed it up into the air like a baton. The Daedra stood straight and as the sword flipped into the air he stuck his hand up and caught it with simplicity. Quickly, he brought it down and pointed the edge into the Imperial's face. He smirked delicately in victory. The Imperial blinked rapidly and just as he was about to turn and run, Xilivicus leapt forward and turned the sword slightly soon knocking the Imperial across the head with the hilt; causing him to fall to the ground unconscious.

Jerald stood by with a look of horror across his pale face. Charcoal slivers of hair falling into his face as he pressed himself upon the wall. Who was this man?! The last guard stood up wiping blood from his fractured nose and spitting out a glob of it from his mouth. The blood splattered onto the floor and the guard stormed forward with the sword tight in his grasp. He swung his sword and Xilivicus nearly fell over trying to block it. This guard was showing all his rage and malice through his actions and it was an advantage for him.

Xilivicus swung back and the two were engaged in a sword fight. The Imperial swung at Xilivicus and just as the Churl swung back the guard had ducked and the sword pierced through a cupboard soon becoming stuck. The Dremora gave it a few jerks to no prevail. The guard smirked and quickly started swinging at the Churl knowing this was it for him.

With a gasp and a thumping heart, Xilivicus stumbled backwards; dodging every blow. With every dodge the Dremora saw flashes of the Hero swinging violently at him. The Oblivion Plane piercing his mind and his anger soon growing with every move. The guard became reckless and as they waltzed across the room, cupboards were tipped over and tables were shredded into pieces. Chairs were thrown and carpets and rugs were pushed out of position as well. The Churl tripped over a chair and the guard swung soon piercing the hood and tearing a large hole into the fabric. One of his tangerine eyes appeared from the darkness and the guard froze in astonishment, "You're not a Dark Elf!" He exclaimed.

"No," Xilivicus snarled, "I'm not." He launched his fist back and soon thrusted it forward, his jagged knuckles cracking the guard's jaw and sending him tumbling through the air soon hitting the floor unconscious.

Jerald glanced around the room and soon his eyes rose to the stranger. He narrowed his eyes and snarled, "Who _are_ you?!"

Xilivicus walked forward with a grave face and narrowed eyes, "I'm not your enemy… if that's what you are wondering."

"I beg to differ," a dark familiar voice snarled behind the Dremora.

The Churl furrowed his brow and whipped his head around just in time to see the flat broad part of an axe ram into his head. The Churl lunged to a side and hit the ground roughly on his side. His eyes blurred and he saw a figure approach him leaning the battleaxe upon his shoulder. Xilivicus narrowed his eyes and hissed lightly, "…you…" His eyes closed and he drifted into darkness soon leaving reality.

-+-

Darkness had fully consumed Elizabeth's mind as she began to dream a dark dream. She ran through a morbid and insane plane of Oblivion. Her heart pounded heavily as the blackness chased her. She heard its battle cries and as it fell over everything it devoured and destroyed it completely. The girl sprinted faster and faster until she got to an edge of the trail she was upon. She came to an immediate halt and looked over the edge of a mountain trail to see all of Tamerial. Her eyes narrowed and her head swiftly swirled around as she saw crimson eyes overcome her and the blackness encased her.

_Come out to play, Elizabeth. _The dark's voice echoed out and cackled manically.

The girl ripped her eyes open and she saw the ceiling of a bedroom. Gleaming sweat rolled down her body as she listened to the fastened pace of her heavy heart. She leaned up within the bed and looked to the door which was cracked enough to let a golden ray of light flood into the room. Her eyes searched the door as she remembered the earlier stages of her dream… when she spoke to Xilivicus. It seemed so real and so actual as if she wasn't dreaming at all. Her pale hand lifted and ran through her hair as she tried to compose herself.

Her cobalt eyes traveled around the room to see everything in place. Her eyes fell upon the golden necklace and she quickly scooped it into her hands and fastened it around her neck. The artic golden rope cooled her neck and she sighed softly soon rising from her bed. She walked over to her dresser and opened it up soon pulling out a silk blue robe. She wrapped it around herself with a smile. Surely, her father would be awake and she could discuss her dream with him. Bromus always was delighted in hearing her fascinating dreams.

The Elf walked over to her door and as she pulled it open she stopped and looked upon the chaotic mess before her. The entire living quarter corridor was destroyed. Maids rushed back and forth picking up fallen chairs and redecorating tables and such as butlers lifted cupboards and dressers off their sides and placed them back along the wall. Elizabeth walked a little further out and her eyes fell down to the ground where a glob of blood had fallen. She sidestepped around it and began walking to her father's room.

She glanced back at the maids as she opened the door. "Father," she began with a worried tone, "what happened out in the-" Her eyes turned forward and she stopped seeing her father accompanied with another man.

Jerald glanced over the Hero's shoulder with a smile, "Elizabeth… you're alright. Thank the Nine!"

The Hero turned soon giving the girl a glance. The silk robe was pulled tightly around her figure showing off most of her curves. The Hero turned his undivided attention towards her as a smirk became of the corner of his lips. The maiden gave the Hero a glance then turned back to her father as she held her robes tighter together, "What happened out there? It looks as if there was a fight."

"Indeed there was," Jerald sighed while walking over to the door and closing it so no maids could overhear him and spread those damn rumors like they always did when someone asked about it. "We've come to believe that an assassin had come to kill you while we all were asleep. He was masked and appeared to be a Dunmer; nonetheless, we truly don't know what he was." Jerald glanced back with a weak smile, "Luckily, our brave knight had just returned from Kvatch and knocked that damned criminal out before he had a chance to attack you!"

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and felt chills run down her spine as she could sense the darkness in the room watching her. "A murderer…" _Just like in my dream,_ she thought quietly to herself. "Do you truly think he was here to… harm me?" She questioned with narrowed eyes.

The Hero nodded and walked forward, his gleaming silver armor cleaned from battle and repaired as well, "Yes… your father and I both believe that the Daedra had sent out an agent to get rid of you since you were one of the only survivors that had been in Kvatch and held as a prisoner. No longer is it safe here for us, we must leave immediately."

"No," Elizabeth gasped referring to her dream. "I… I believe it would be best if we traveled during the light of the day. If anyone were to follow us we would recognize them and realize their presence instead of us traveling in the dimness of the morning."

Jerald nodded lightly and agreed, "Yes, that sounds safe. Then we must find a better place to locate ourselves, somewhere that these agents could not come unless ludicrous enough."

The Hero nodded and crossed his arms before him, adding in his two cents, "In the guard's barracks would be the best place. I shall find Hieronymous Lex and ask if we may have premission to rest within the barracks until midday then we shall find another place to locate ourselves."

Jerald turned fully to the Hero and questioned, "Do you think that the agent we found here was the only one they sent?"

The Hero shook his head, "Daedra might be reckless creatures; however, they are smart enough to send out a few agents for every task. Nonetheless, we must take precautions."

Elizabeth bowed her head and wondered to herself as her father and the knight conversed together. Her dreams had all been so consumed by the Oblivion way of life that it seemed like a parasite that drove into her body and sucked her dry of any hope or faith. Each dream opened up to an image of her being chased by some greater darkness. The girl's hand reached up and caressed the pedant on her necklace. She needed someone to take care of her. This wasn't going to be the last of these assassins of that she was sure.

"I am sorry to say that I cannot stay long. It appears that Martin Septim needs me in Cloud Ruler Temple." The Hero had said with a deep sigh.

"Martin Septim?" questioned the girl who finally arrived in the conversation, "Another heir to the throne?"

The Hero gave a short nod with a furrowed dark brow. "That is why the Daedra had attacked Kvatch. Martin was there and knew not of his great heritage. Jaufree, an old blademaster, Martin and I are going to find a way to close the Oblivion gates for good. I wish I could stay here with you all, but I am needed elsewhere."

Jerald nodded in respect, "I understand, sir knight. Please… go with the Asquerana blessing and return in one piece."

The Hero smiled greatly and chuckled, "Victory shall be ours. No Daedra shall walk upon Cyrodiil soil and live!" He turned to the maiden and bowed before her, "Ms. Asquerana, may you be safe as well. I could not imagine what I would do if I heard that you had been hurt or even worse."

Elizabeth smiled weakly and she soon asked, "When shall you be leaving?"

"By midday," answered he while exhaling noisily. "Until then, I shall be your own personal guard. After that, your father shall choose a new guard to substitute for me while I am gone."

Jerald nodded and glanced over to his daughter, "Since we shall be in the city until midday, I wonder if it would be a good idea to further inspect the assassin. He is being held in a cell in the Imperial Prison. If there was a way we could successfully interrogate him then we might be able to find out more about his master's plans."

The Hero pursed his lips and answered, "I shall go on my own. If he is not willing to speak then I shall torture him until we get what we need."

Elizabeth's ears perked and she saw the opportunity to see if this man was of Daedric relations or not, "I'll go with you."

"No," the Hero retorted. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you-"

"-nothing will," the Elf urged with pleading eyes. "You are the greatest of knights standing on the foundations of the Imperial City, let alone all of Cyrodiil. Please, I wish to look into the eyes of my attacker. Let me go."

The Hero searched her eyes; skeptic. He then looked over to Jerald and questioned, "Would that be tolerated, sir?"

Jerald sighed and nodded, "Guide her to the Imperial prison and let her begin to ask the questions. If it is useless then you may proceed with the torture. I am sure that the guard would have no worries of that if it were for the greater of the Empire."

"Yes, sir." The Hero said while glancing to Elizabeth. "Go and get dressed then we shall begin our passage to the prison."

The High Elf maiden frantically nodded and took off to her bedroom like a little child. The Hero watched her with attentive eyes as she left. He examined her figure and slowly he looked back to Jerald, "Have you told her of our agreement?"

Jerald's saddened eyes lifted and he replied, "No… I fear that it shall add more weight upon her shoulders. She is going through too much at the moment. Please, let me tell her when this crisis has calmed and she is no longer burdened with the burning images of Oblivion."

The Hero remained silent. His dark woodland eyes moving back to the door where Elizabeth had exited from.

-+-

"T-They took him away! I… I don't know who it was!" gasped a drunkard.

The Assassin shook his head with shame soon snarling, "Wrong answer." He crouched down and picked up the man's leg soon lifting it into the air. The drunkard sobbed as he attempted to move but was immobilized completely. The Dremora lifted his boot and placed the ball of his foot on the man's knee. With one hard kick, there was a horrifying snap and the man's knee was forced backwards. A few blood droplets fell as bone pierced through the skin and made the man's leg distorted.

The man gritted his teeth and roared out in pain. His chest heaving with every sob, "P-P-Please," spit had gathered in his mouth and his face turned red as he snarled. "I don't… know… know anything else!"

The Assassin sighed and looked around in the basement of the King and Queen's Tavern. He had jumped this man and dragged him down here after he saw a few guards carry Xilivicus out. "Where… did they take him?" he snarled.

"M-More… and likely the prison. It's on the outskirts of the city! D-Due Northeast! That's all I know! Please! Have mercy!" The man wept as all the pain consumed him and a dark eternal fire burned him alive.

The Assassin narrowed his eyes and nodded, "Mercy you say? You wish for mercy? Why… then let me grant you your final wish." The assassin unsheathed his Daedric longsword as he stood over the man. He placed the tip over the man's heart and with one rough shove the blade pierced through him and killed him.

-+-

The Bastion door was pushed open and Elizabeth walked in with her hands before her and her head bowed. The Hero walked in behind her and glanced around seeing the small circular main room of the prison. A guard sat behind a minute mahogany desk soon lifting his eyes to greet the visitors. Elizabeth grinned and walked forward, "We came to interrogate a prisoner. He was just brought in from the King and Queen Tavern. You wouldn't mind allowing us down there, would you?"

The guard shifted his eyes between the High Elf and the Hero. He recognized the man immediately as the Hero of Kvatch and the Arena Grand Champion. Surely, this was not for some little game. The guard pushed himself out of his chair and said, "I shall open the door for you, but I will have to accompany you."

The Hero pulled a small rawhide sack from his belt and tossed it down upon the table. "What say you to… 50 septims, and you forget that we're even here, hmm?" A smirk pulled across his lips.

The guard grinned and picked up the bag with a sigh, "It's the door to my right, here's the key." He reached inside his pocket and withdrew a dark bronze key and soon handed it to the Hero.

The Hero took it and grinned soon glancing back to Elizabeth, "Let's get on with it."

Elizabeth frowned as she looked to the key. Was this how the Hero worked? He bribed and paid off people to get what he wanted. Surely the guard would be no trouble if he were to accompany them. She digressed and watched as the Hero sauntered over to the door, his boots clicking across the limestone floor as he went. The maid examined the room out of curiosity and soon quickly followed, her silk slippers padding across the floor as she went.

Within the prison keep, in the darkness of an empty cell, the Dremora Xilivicus sat with wide eyes. He searched the blackness around him that embraced him like a blanket of silk. It held tight to his body and almost made it hard to breathe. Blood rolled down the abrasion on his head, yet this hadn't seemed to bother the man. He pondered his next move for he had heard the guards speaking of how hard it would be for him to break away from the prison. The Churl was the only prisoner in this wing of the prison.

It felt so awkward to only hear the dripping of water fall from the moist limestone ceiling. The sound of rats slipping through holes in the walls was his company as well. Xilivicus lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips over his lips. His lips felt smooth and moist. Possibly the aftershock of having your first kiss.

Suddenly, there was a loud creak and the prison door had been propped open. Xilivicus tossed his eyes back and forth in the darkness listening as two pairs of footsteps walk down the coiled stairs. He scooted back in the darkness and pressed himself against the wall with a fear looming upon him like a monster. In front of the bars of his cell he saw the Hero appear. Abruptly, the Dremora's eyes iced over with malice and he leapt upon his feet with a glare. The Hero glanced into the darkness and grinned, "Concealing yourself again, are you? It shan't work this time you pathetic criminal."

Xilivicus stormed forward and just as he did another figure appeared in front of his cell. As he caught sight of this new visistor he froze.

_Elizabeth_, he whispered to himself. He slowly backed up in the darkness hoping that she had not seen him. The maiden glanced into the cell and narrowed her eyes, "… he is in there?" She questioned.

"Yes," the Hero retorted. "I can smell his foul entity from here."

Xilivicus gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes in abhorrence. Oh, how he wanted to cut down this decieving bastard. The Churl's hands curled into royal purple fists. The maiden stepped closer to the bars with a glare. Her bright eyes attempting to illuminate the darkness so she may see her attacker. "Step into the light. I wish to see your face."

The Dremora's eyes scanned the dark floor, even though it was pitch black he could still see figures upon the ground. He leaned over and found a broken piece of brick upon the ground. As he raised he aimed at the cell door and hoped that it wouldn't hit her. He tossed the brick forward and it shattered upon the gate making Elizabeth recoil with wide eyes. The Hero carefully pushed the girl out of the way knowing he hadn't wanted her to get hurt. "Try that again, prisoner, and see what will become of you."

Xilivicus smirked and picked up a pebble lying upon the ground he tossed it forward and watched as it rolled across the floor. The Hero glanced down and then glared up hatefully taking a lockpick from his pocket and shoving it into the lock. Elizabeth grabbed his shoulder and shook his head, "Force won't be needed. Violence won't get us anything but sinful hands and unanswered questions."

The Hero growled as he ripped the lockpick from the lock and snapped, "Well, your way isn't precisely faeries and meadows, either!"

Elizabeth shook her head and glanced back into the cage, "If you do not fall into my demands then you will be tortured. Do you understand?" Xilivicus stood quiet knowing if he were to say anything that she would recognize his voice. Elizabeth grasped the bars and glanced in. "Can you speak?"

"Of course he can speak," the Hero groaned. "He's trying to agravate us and-"

"-and it's working," Elizabeth sighed. "Do not let your anger get the best of you." Her eyes were tossed back into the cell and she said, "Tap on the wall two times for yes and once for no, okay?"

Xilivicus stepped back and with a curled fist he pounded upon the wall twice. His eyes narrowed as he watched Elizabeth search in the darkness for him. He appeared as a phantom in the snow. Seeming to blend in and vanish completely. Elizabeth grinned brightly and nodded, "Ok, good! We're getting somewhere…" the Hero rolled his eyes and leaned back upon the wall watching the maiden work. How could she get anywhere without force? It would take them hours before they got answers out of this agent! "Possibly if you answer our demands then we could set you free sooner then you were expected to. Now, did you come into the King and Queen Tavern to harm me or my father?"

Xilivicus furrowed his brow and he leaned his fist upon the wall. He pounded harshly once allowing the noise to echo out to the maiden. How long was this charade to last? As the Hero heard the knock he scoffed and whispered, "What lies…"

Elizabeth pursed her lips and ignored her companion, "What did you come to the tavern for, then?" The Churl raised an eyebrow and pounded a few times upon the wall. Elizabeth's mouth fell agape and quickly she perked up, "Oh! These are only 'yes and no' questions! I'm sorry—"

The Dremora smiled at her sweet innocence and… slight ignorance. He pulled back his throat with his muscles and his voicebox had altered. As he spoke, his voice sounded almost shaky and very hoarse like a creature who had been taught to speak, "There are things that I am not allowed to tell," he snarled in his Daedric voice, "respect that, girl."

Elizabeth's face turned white as she heard him. His voice… he was a Daedra. She leaned upon the bars and quickly snapped, "Why were you sent here?"

He kept quiet for a moment and snarled, "To kill the Hero of Kvatch, are you that incompetent, mortal?"

The High Elf lowered her brow with a glare. This was not Broga or any other Daedra from the Oblivion Plane that she was at. However, she did not meet all the Daedra. "…do you know of the man named Xilivicus?"

The Churl's eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't as surprised at the fact that she mentioned him, but more of the fact that she had called him a man and not a monster or a Dremora. He bowed his head and replied, "Why would I care to collect the names of mortals?"

The Hero sighed and demanded, "Who do you work for, monster?"

"The mudcrabs… who do you bloody think I work for, imbecile?!" Xilivicus lashed out with a slight anger for the question.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and snapped at the Hero, "Would you please allow me to ask the questions?! If he was sent to kill you then surely his master is Lord Dagon!"

The Hero pursed his lips and remained silent. The Elf glanced back and asked, "How many of you are there in Tamerial?"

Xilivicus frowned and said softly, "… five… four assassins, one commander, and then myself."

Elizabeth tilted her head and pressed further on, "Commander… who is your commander?"

-+-

" Commander Broga," called out Xion who quickly slid down the ladder in the Elven Garden Sewer, "I have good news!"

The black Dremora lifted his head up. He had been sharpening his swords waiting for any news. The crimson eyes were alit as he heard Xion call out to him. The other assassins snapped to attention, too. They had been training and inhancing their skills if they were soon to be needed. "What news do you have, private?" Broga snarled.

The Assassin grinned while wiping blotches of blood from his toffee colored hands, "Xilivicus has been arrested. He resides in the Imperial prison Northeast of the city!"

Broga sat quiet for a moment. His eyelids fell over his eyes and he questioned, "… how in Dagon's name is this good news?"

The insane assassin chuckled and said, "Xilivicus has visitors at this precise moment and by the looks of it they shall be there a while."

The Commander stood and demanded, "Who are these visitors, Xion?"

"The maiden and the Hero," Xion twittered.

Broga's eyes exploded and he grinned, "… I suppose this is good news afterall, private." He glanced up and looked over to the other assassins who lingered upon his commands. Broga tossed his head towards a sewer corridor and he ordered, "Go through the sewers… get out through the exits and go to the Bastion. Sneak into the prison and kill any guards that may see you. Do not alert the Knight or Maiden of your precense… now go."

The assassins lifted their hoods and pulled it over their short jagged horns. They dashed down the corridors and vanished within the depths of the sewers. Broga chuckled and spoke lightly to himself, "It appears that you shall once again be reunited with me, dear maiden." He walked over to a table of alchemistic ingrediants and a few poisoned daggers remembering back in Kvatch when he had attempted to take advantage of the Elf. He narrowed his eyes and lifted a hand soon running a gray fingertip over a long scar down his left eye. "…let this encounter be better then the last." He lifted his hood which caused his black face to disappear. His crimson eyes barely visible as they opened. He turned and promptly stormed down the corridor knowing that it was now or never.

So let the games begin.

_**-TBC-**_

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_**R this chapter was a little delayed. I've been really busy lately. New chapter coming next week or so. Hope you Enjoyed.**_


	12. Caught in the Act

**_Hah… you know what I should do to make people happy? Put Broga and the Hero in a fight and they both kill each other. So far, no one really likes them at all. (I think Broga's controlling dominance is rather hot. But that's me.) Updation; hope you enjoy._**

**_Preferred Song: 'All About Us' – t.A.T.u

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_**-+-**_

"… Who is your commander?" she questioned with a fluttering heart that had feared a certain name.

Xilivicus turned his eyes away from her and snarled in his Daedric accent, "I told you there were things I could not tell you."

The Hero snarled and shoved himself off the wall, "You are asking worthless questions!" He shoved past the girl and removed the lockpick from his pocket soon jamming it into the lock with a snarl, "We shall get nowhere unless the proper force is exerted!"

Elizabeth leapt forward and amazingly she twirled the lockpick out of his hand and she tossed it aside with a fiery glare. Her small lips pursed together and her nostrils flared as a sudden vexation flowed through her veins. "Stop being rash! Look… torture shall only cloud his mind from the truth. If you want to at least show a little force then go up to the guard and get some rope. We'll tie him down and I'll standby and watch you ask the questions. Now go."

The Hero searched her eyes with drawn lips. His voice hid within his throat and with a scoff he stormed out of the prison soon slamming the door. Elizabeth bowed her head to examine the floor. Her rage was beginning to be released. Remembering the Dremora, her head swirled around and her energetic eyes scorched the cell and caused Xilivicus to nearly leap from his skin. The maiden stepped closer with a hateful snarl, "Listen here, Daedra. You better answer my questions before he gets back and takes this matter into his own hands. Don't you understand he's going to kill you if you don't talk?!"

"There are worse things than death, mortal." He hissed back while pacing in the blackness. He felt the spirits of his ancestors swirl around him. The lineage of Daedra pushed down upon his shoulders and raised him to a rank that he knew he could never amount to. "So little you understand…"

"Then help me understand!" She snapped. "You won't tell me anything!"

"For good reason, your friend wishes to use it against me and my Kyn! It is not you that I don't trust, girl, it's your barbaric thug that I don't trust." Xilivicus hissed. It was beginning to become harder as he attempted to hold his Daedric accent around her.

The girl's pasty petite hands had wrapped firmly around the rusting iron bars. Her head leaned close to the door as she hissed, "Then tell me now, Dremora! Before your life becomes forfeit! Why has Dagon sent you?!"

"I am to capture you," he answered in the abyss, "and take you back to Dagon as the Ultimate Scholar of this land."

Elizabeth's eyes widened a little as he began to spill the truth from his lips like water. She leaned her head away and stepped back as well, "… do your… Kyn… know that you're here?"

Xilivicus leaned his head up. The tone of his skin and eyes blending together in the dark. He saw her by the gate and wished that he were a human like her. No longer had he wanted Tamerial's hate to scorch him like hellfire. "They are not oblivious beings. Knowledge of these walls holding me back from returning to them shall carry to them quickly."

The High Elf rubbed the curve in her lips with the side of her index finger as she pondered aloud, "Then surely they will come here for you. Then they will find me as well and your mission shall be a success."

"However, that is not what I truly want," said he. "For you do not know that the Dremora Xilivicus and I were indeed… as you say, acquaintances. He has spoken many a word of his dreams and aspirations and also… his desire for you to live peacefully in Tamerial."

Elizabeth felt her muscles tense. Xilivicus? Surely he was lying. But… how would he have known of him being Daedra? The maiden eyed the cell carefully and softly she had demanded, "Come forth… into the light. I want to see your face."

Xilivicus' grave face hardened as he drew up the mask of his robe and covered the lower half of his head. His hood was drawn forward and through the slash in the fabric, his demonic eye could be seen. He slowly moved forward. With each step his heart beat quickened. Elizabeth watched as a haze appeared from the abyss. Slowly, it formed into a figure. Details were distinguished and the man's brawny body stepped out of the darkness. He glanced out from the cell, inches away from the girl. "Are you happy now?" He snarled.

The maiden leaned closer and looked him over. She could see the curved part of his hood where his horns resided. Indeed, he was a Daedra. It was hard to see his face; nonetheless, this hadn't bothered her. "… you spoke of Xilivicus… how did you know him?"

"He and I were both Churls upon the same plane for more than fifteen years. As humans would claim—we were the finest of friends. We shared… the same views and opinions upon nearly everything. Especially, we had shared the same hatred for Dagon and his laws. Neither I, nor him approved of this war. The opening of the Oblivion Gates angered us both and only with you and your knowledge of our world can you close these gates and forever separate Daedra and humans."

Elizabeth tilted her head forward, "You don't… like this war? Surely I thought-"

"-that a Daedra wanted nothing more than to bathe in human's blood?" Xilivicus' accented voice struck her. "Not everything is what it seems, maiden. My Kyn shall be here at any time. If they capture you then all hope is lost. You must free me from this cage—that is the only way I might be able to help you."

"Why should I trust you?" she questioned with anticipating eyes.

"… I never asked for your trust, maiden. I asked to be set free and given a chance to prove myself to you." His Daedric voice began to falter and he feared that she would recognize him rather quickly.

The maiden scoffed and shook her head, "You sound just like Xilivicus… always wanting to prove himself." She turned and a disheartened frown was sheltered upon her lips as her frame, overall, became weak and tired. Her hand slid up and caressed the golden necklace that would heal her heartache.

"… Trust me," whispered he; desperately.

She glanced over her shoulder and began thinking. Her mind ticked like clockwork as she pondered over the options. Yes. She would free him. But how? She had no key or—a glitter caught her eye and she glanced down to see the fallen lockpick. Of course! She smiled and scooped it up into her palm. She turned back to the cage and put the lockpick in carefully. She knew only a small amount of lock and their picks. This was a regularly easy lock. No trouble for her. "… I'm not sure how you will get out of here without Mr. Short-fuse up there seeing you."

"I'll find a way," he watched the lock with gentle eyes. He then tossed his gaze up and said, "I will report to my commander that you have been slain. Only then will we return to Oblivion. From then on you must join together with your leaders and find a way to close the gates."

The lock clicked open and Elizabeth grinned, "Alright, now for-"

The prison door was burst open and a mutilated guard's body rolled down the steps and finally stopped against the wall at the bottom, breaking limbs and joints along the way. Elizabeth seized her mouth and stepped back in horror. What had happened up there?! Xilivicus shoved the gate open and rushed out giving the body a glare. His eyes widened as he saw a broken barbed arrow jutting from its chest.

Daedric Arrow.

He cursed and looked to Elizabeth, "Looks like our plans have altered; you're coming with me."

"What?!" She piped while watching him observe the cells one by one. "W-What do you mean I'm coming with you?!"

"Daedric Arrow," he hissed. "Our only chance now is to sneak out undetected… good luck with that."

Elizabeth raised a hand to her jaw as she thought about the prison. Something about the royal passageway out of the city leading through the prison. She had seen in the Black Horse Courier that there was some sort of passageway for the Emperor to get out of when needed. Her eyes lifted to the cell across from the one she had freed the Dremora out of. She quickly walked over and pushed open the unlocked cell. Yes. This was the one. She could remember now.

Her father's teachings involved this cell, too. She had seen a few sketchings of this in her father's research papers about the Imperial City.

"What are you doing?" Xilivicus snarled with a glare. "Stop fooling with the cells!"

Elizabeth snatched his arm and flung him into the cell hastily, soon leaping in herself. The Dremora nearly tumbled down the steps. He looked up and just as he was to say something he watched as she jerked a torch down and the wall slid out of place. A secret passageway! The Churl looked up at the Elf and watched her smile brightly at him. Oh, how he wanted to leap up and kiss her in thanks! A smile crept across his face and he rushed forward to grab another torch upon the wall. The golden light flooded the passageway and the Dremora purred, "Follow me."

-+-

The Assassins snuck in like shadows.

Guards barely had time to react when the Daedra fell upon them soon slicing their throat and lifting them back into the abyss where the bodies disappeared. Broga walked in freely, his eyes narrowed as he checked the first few cells on the right of the main door. A monk stood behind bars with a glare and as the Dremora approached the glare faded into a petrified gaze. Broga stopped before the monk and demanded, "Are you the only prisoner in this wing?"

The monk nearly wet himself as he saw this black colossal creature stand before him. Broga's anger raised and the Daedra struck the cage causing the bars to bend easily, "Answer me, swine!"

"Y-Y-Yes!" cried the monk who cowered before him. "I-I-I… I heard… of fresh meat in the West Wing! P-Please! Mercy!"

Broga scoffed and shook his head, "How pathetic…" He turned and walked back into the main room seeing a knight walk from the West Wing.

The crimson eyes of the Dremora widened as he saw the Hero of Kvatch. The same man who singly closed the gate and murdered all his Kyn. A guard slid down the ladder from the second floor and an assassin hiding near the ceiling fired off a barbed arrow at the man. The guard gasped as the arrow struck him and the force caused him to flew back and hit the prison door; bursting it open. The Hero's eyes widened as he saw this and quickly he looked forward to see Broga's immense body step out of the darkness, "At long last we meet, Savior of Kvatch."

The Hero jerked his silver sword from its sheath, his eyes narrowed, "Who are you?"

The Commander chuckled with a crooked smirk sheltered on his grey smooth lips. "Don't worry about me… start worrying about yourself," the man lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. The assassins fell from the ceiling with their hefty weapons drawn. Broga narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Kill him."

The Assassins lunged at the Hero and all of them began clashing together with such agility and grace. Broga watched for a while then quickly made his way to the West Wing, knowing there was no other place that the maiden and the blasted Churl could go.

-+-

Xilivicus rushed down the steps with one hand guiding them with the torch and the other holding onto Elizabeth's hand, making sure that no harm would befall her. They entered a petite room that led down to a flat level. The Churl led the maiden down the steps and as he attempted to push the gates open, he had realized they had been locked and bolted. A glare iced over his eyes and he turned around with a curse. Suddenly, he walked out and saw a few putrid boards covering a vast fissure in the wall. He backed up and aligned himself with the boards as though he were an arrow attempting to pierce a target.

Elizabeth watched as he tossed the torch to the ground killing most of the light around them. The maiden strained her eyes as she tried to capture as much light as she could to see what was happening. The Dremora sprinted at the boards with a lowered torso. Just as he neared he leapt off his feet and shoved his shoulder forward. The boards snapped easily and the Churl rolled inside soon lifting back to his feet. His hood fell and Elizabeth quickly ran in with a laugh. His eyes widened and he lifted his hood rapidly hiding his façade from her once more.

"I hadn't been expecting that!" She laughed as she looked around in the grimy and darkened space.

There was a squeaking and just as Elizabeth turned her head she saw the jagged and golden teeth of a rat. She yelped and leapt backward. Before the rat could harm her, Xilivicus' hand flew up and seized the creature by the neck in midair. The Churl bit his lip as he seized the creature and twisted its body one way and its head the other. There was a sickening snap and the rat fell motionless. Xilivicus tossed the body aside and began scouting the area. Rusted old weapons lie in the moistened dirt; however, this hadn't interested the soldier. He moved forward and found a door that had been left slightly open. His head perked and he looked back and called out to the girl.

She ran through the area and found the Dremora waiting for her. She stopped near him and just as she was about to ask where they were headed there was a holler and a torchlight from behind them. Xilivicus and Elizabeth both swirled around to hear the call of Daedric men. Surely not—no… they hadn't followed them here, did they?! Xilivicus snatched the maiden's hand and snarled, "Let's go." Elizabeth watched as the man dragged her through the abyss.

Broga stumbled down the stairs with a glare. What was this place? He questioned himself. His black nostrils flared and he turned and quickly ran back up the stairs knowing he would need the help of his assassins to clear this area faster than the Churl and Elizabeth.

-+-

The Elf and Dremora sprinted through the substructure of the Prison sewers. Xilivicus hadn't needed to hold her hand; in view of the fact that Elizabeth had been able to keep up the pace and fight back creatures if needed to. Xilivicus leapt up a broken staircase and then he had glanced back to see Elizabeth stabilizing herself before she attempted the bound. The Dremora kneeled down and offered her his hand. She glanced up with wide curious eyes and her pale white hand wrapped around his royal purple palm.

He held tightly onto her as he leaned back and pulled her up. She tripped upon the last stair and nearly fell onto the Churl. He caught her with easy and held onto her shoulders, his concealed eyes looking her over. "Are you alright?" He questioned silently.

The maiden nodded and attempted to see beneath his mask. The Churl looked down the path and hissed, "It would be best if we beat Broga out-"

"Broga?!" gasped the maiden, "So, _that's_ who your commander is?!"

Xilivicus closed his eyes with a unfathomable moan. Big Mistake. "Yes… Broga is my commander. So you of all people can imagine how hard he shall try until he has gotten you within his grasp and may return you to Lord Dagon."

Elizabeth's body began to shudder in shock and in future fright. Xilivicus wrapped his arm around hers with a grave gaze. He inched her forward and quickly she abandoned her doubts and fears. Now was the time to escape from this mental and physical prison. If not, then she would surely die. It was now or never… now or never.

Their footsteps became hardly recognizable as they glided across the ground. The Churl came to a halt at a minuscule area and his eyes slid sideways and in the dimness he could see a cracked door leading to natural caverns. Xilivicus heard the heaving pant of the girl. She had kept her mind on the reward at the end of these tunnels of darkness. Her heart had pounded harder than ever before and surely she could not handle much more of this. "Will you be alright without resting, Altmer?"

Elizabeth placed her palm against her chest and she shook her head, "I… I won't run as fast as you can. But I shall be fine."

Xilivicus furrowed his dark brow and stepped forward soon hunching over. The maiden eyed him and yelped as he lifted her up into the air and cradled her. His eye slightly revealed and the maiden could see the whiteness of the eyeball as he shifted it between her eyes and spoke richly in his Daedric accent, "I cannot have you fall behind. Our future lies in your hands now."

The maiden swallowed down a lump of astonishment in her throat and soon the man bolted through the door and became a shadow upon the cavern walls.

-+-

Sweat dripped down the sun kissed brow of the Hero as he held off three Daedric blades at once. Those jagged grins sending chills down his spine. Was this going to be the demise of him? His heart pounded with the power of thunder as he could see death looming over his body as he was forced down upon his knees. There was a call and the assassins froze. They listened intently as Broga walked out with a glare, "The maiden has traveled through the secret passageway. Leave him here."

"But, sir," Xion snarled, "He is the great destroyer of our Gate! Let us revenge Lord Dagon!"

"No," Broga hissed. "Our target is the girl. His death shall be pleasurable and swift when Dagon commands it. Now go… find the girl!"

The assassins glared hatefully at their commander and reluctantly they sheathed their swords and disappeared in black blurs. The Hero breathed heavily and soon glared up at the commander, "Why did… you not have me killed?"

Broga sheltered a smirk as he hissed, "Because it's better for you to sit idly by and know that your bonny maiden shall reside with me in Oblivion and that you—the Wonderful Hero—had failed at protecting her." The Commander launched an open hand onto the Hero's forehead. As his black skin came in contact there was a green spiral and the Hero's vision blurred as he felt himself losing consciousness rapidly. The Dremora chuckled and backed up, "Goodnight, Great Savior of Kvatch."

The Hero fell out of all reality, but could hear the echoing laughter of Broga. Those crimson eyes haunting him and sending him into a burning abyss as he worried of the maiden's safety.

-+-

Xilivicus leapt off onto the lower part of the Imperial subterrane. His tangerine eyes lifted to see three gigantic columns surrounding him. He placed the elf down as he glanced around, "… No sign of Broga. Possibly he has not gotten this far. Let us not give him the chance to catch up, either."

Elizabeth nodded and followed him down the few sets of stairs that led to a round wooden door. The Churl forced it open and quickly led her through to the next part. Xilivicus glanced over and saw a set of stairs soon running to them. Just as Elizabeth was about to follow she glanced over the balcony edge to see the lower floor. Surely it would not be that hard of a jump upon her legs. She readied herself and quickly leapt over the side. A grin spread across her lips as she hadn't fallen or completely killed herself. The Churl appeared through the doorway with a befuddled gaze. How did she…?

The elf grinned at him and said, "… and here you are calling _me_ slow?"

Xilivicus' lips pursed and he stalked forward, "Oh shut up, Altmer."

The couple walked into the next area seeing a long parallel row of columns. The two marveled at their beauty forgetting for a moment of the dangers that they were running from. Elizabeth's hand reached up and caressed the necklace. She sighed deeply and bowed her head, "… I wish Xilivicus was here to see this. He always wanted to see Tamerial."

The Churl bowed his head and looked away. How hard it was to keep lying to her. But he knew that this was the easiest way for her to forget about him and to move on to a normal Cyrodiilic lifestyle. "…indeed…" murmured he.

Just as they neared the middle section of pillars, Xilivicus froze while turning his ear behind him. His eyes narrowed and Elizabeth turned to him with a curious stare. The man hurriedly turned to her and picked her up as if she was nothing more than a basket. The Churl leapt off into the darkness shoving a hand over the mouth of the girl. They came to a dead end and the man crouched down and hid the girl behind him. His eyes widened on the alert. Elizabeth opened her mouth but just as she did she saw an assassin appear from the middle of nowhere. Had he turned invisible to excel his stealth?

The Assassin gave a glance to the area and quickly waved on the other assassins. They moved into the area with their weapons brandished. Broga walked in last giving a subsequent scan. He walked into the lit area and questioned, "Any sign of them?"

The Assassin shook his head and glanced to the slightly propped open door. "Do you think that they had moved ahead?"

Broga gave a glance to the door; yet, something caught his senses. "... Move ahead. I'll follow up on the back."

The Assassins disappeared into blurs and the Sanctum door was shoved open then quickly closed. Broga turned fully around with a glare. He stalked around sniffing the area cautiously. Xilivicus narrowed his eyes and placed his hands around the girl, whispering gently to her, "Step like a Shadow."

The maiden frowned and as Xilivicus' fingertips came in contact with her skin, she disappeared just like he had. Her eyes widened and the Dremora stood up and silently inched out into the area; unaware of Broga's position. As he neared the exit of the dead end he saw Broga step out before him; barely inches away. The Churl froze and looked up with wide eyes.

If his heart pulsed too loudly then Broga would discover him.

If Elizabeth made any sudden movements then they would be doomed.

Their survival balanced on the cliff of death. Broga tossed his crimson eyes into the darkness of the dead end. At sight of these eyes, Elizabeth hid behind the Dremora in utter fear. She closed her eyes and turned away praying to the Nine that they would not be discovered. Broga scoffed and turned soon heading off into the Sanctum. Xilivicus bowed his head as the door closed loudly. Elizabeth leaned her head upon the man's back as she whispered, "… where do we go now?"

"… It would be unsafe to go back; nonetheless, it wouldn't be so safe to move ahead either." He scoffed and shook his head. "I'll let it be up to you."

"Me?" she hissed while walking around him and facing him as the invisibility began to wear off, "Do not leave it up to me!"

"I have called the shots from the beginning. Make this decision and then I shall lead again, if that is alright with you." He told her calmly.

Her thin silver eyebrows lowered over her vast ocean eyes. Storms brewed in the mists of those oceans as she looked upon this man. He was a complete stranger to her; nevertheless, she could feel so much familiarity in his voice and actions, as if she had been with him before. His eyes still cowered behind that mask which the Elven girl wished more than anything that she could pull down and expose the man's face. She had respect, and knew that this would anger him. Her eyes fell to the Sanctum door and she had said, "How skilled are your fellow assassins?"

"Not as skilled as I am." He replied as she turned completely around to examine the door as if it were an unsolved puzzle.

"Do you think they would be able to detect us if we were… unseen?" She questioned.

His head shook side to side and he stepped forward, "No. I do not think so—but Broga might be able to see through the disguise if we aren't careful."

"Then let us pray that we shall be careful." Her eyes turned up to him and a confident smile lit up on her face.

The man chuckled and placed his opened hand upon the small of her back. The spell wore into her and she began to disappear like a vapor in the wind. The two glanced at each other and soon they had disappeared all together.

-+-

The bedroom door to the 'King and Queen Tavern' was kicked open and nearly made Jerald leap out of his skin. The intoxicated Hero stumbled in clutched his head tightly, "T-They… are after her!"

Jerald's eyes hardened and he stood up soon stepping forward, "… after who?"

Woodland eyes lifted and the face of the Hero turned red as he boomed, "Elizabeth, you fool! They are after Elizabeth! Four Assassins, one commander… I… I think… they're going through the Imperial sewers. If we act now and gather the captains of the guard then we can cut them off before they take her back to Oblivion!"

Jerald stormed past the hero with hatred pulsing through his veins. His eyes turned to ice and froze everything around him. "Get to the end of the sewers, I'll get the captains. Go now!"

The Hero nodded once and then sprinted off knowing that his showdown with Broga was sooner than he had thought.

-+-

Xilivicus led the maiden through the sanctum with ease. There was absolutely no sign of his Kyn anywhere. His heart became discouraged as he knew this was not a very good sign at all for his brethren to leave all of a sudden. The Churl slid back the sewer entrance and glanced down seeing no sign of the Daedra. His stomach coiled into knotted balls as this began to worry him. "Go first," he told Elizabeth, "I shall fasten this entrance making sure no one may come through."

The Elf leapt down the opening before long she vanished into the sewers. Xilivicus gave the chamber one more glance before he slipped into the abyss himself and sealed the fissure. As he lowered himself down the ladder he leapt off halfway down. He landed gracefully soon holding up a hand to help the maiden down. She leapt off by herself with a weak smile, "I am capable of doing things myself, you know?"

"I was showing kindness," he hissed while rolling his eyes. "The least you could have done was-" his voice cracked and he coughed soon turning away. He was losing grip of his accent. His hand lifted to his throat where he rubbed vigorously.

The girl stepped closer, placing a hand upon his shoulder, "Are you alright?"

The Churl rolled his shoulder forward while nodding and waving her on. He swallowed down a lump in his throat while conjuring two Daedric accented words to himself, "…Let's…go."

The Elf followed with a wary eye. Surely he hadn't choked on his own spit or his own breathe. There was something bothering him, he was sure of it. The Dremora skipped down the stairs leading on rather hastily. As they approached a small flow of water, the Churl saw a mud crab crawling up the stairs onto the sewer floor. The man stepped over and slammed down his boot over the shell; killing it instantly. He glanced back and nodded the girl on. She quickly made her way over the bridge, walking through a damp rancid corridor. Her eyes lifted to a tall wide room and upon the northern wall there were a set of stairs.

Xilivicus bounded up them, the girl at his heels. They walked across a small bridge lit with the rays of the falling moon. Elizabeth grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him around in the light. He glanced at her still hidden with the shadows of his hood. The girl narrowed her eyes and demanded, "… lower your hood."

Xilivicus pursed his lips behind his mask and shook his head, attempting his accent once more, "… no… we need to move on-"

"-I want to see your face completely." She said persistently.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, his shadow casting over her causing her piercing silver skin causing her features to be fully shown. "I said, 'no'. We have more important things to worry about, so drop it."

Elizabeth watched as he turned and began walking across the bridge. She lowered her head in a spoiled manner getting frustrated for not getting her way with this subject. She followed her leader and as they rounded the curve they could see the sewer exit. Elizabeth smiled brightly and sighed, "I can't believe we made it!"

Xilivicus furrowed his brow while walking to the exit, "Me either."

He reached the gate and as he began to push it open he heard a small snip and he turned around rapidly to see a spiked ball fall down and swing right into his face. The Dremora was caught off guard and the ball struck his head harshly causing him to stumble back and fall on the ground his hood nearly ripping off his robe. The Churl leapt to his feet and turned around sheltering his face as Elizabeth ran at him. He covered his face with the beaten and torn hood still accomplishing the task of hiding his identity.

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth gasped as she tried stopping him.

The Churl felt a blood droplet roll down his cheek. The spike had surely punctured his skin, "I'm fine," he snarled in the Daedric accent.

"No you're not!" She stopped him right before the end of the sewers. She pushed him on the wall and saw his mask soiled with his own blood. "You're bleeding."

He bowed his head and looked to the exit of the sewers, "I'll be fine. It's merely a scratch and nothing more."

The maiden slowly reached her fingertips up and pressed it onto his mask. She closed her eyes and slowly blue energy seeped through her fingers and soaked through the fabric of his mask soon encasing his skin. The small tears sewed themselves back together with ease causing the small bit of pain to vanish like a phantom. The man turned his eyes up and frowned, "… why'd you do that?"

She smiled and said, "I'm trying to show kindness, the least you can do is appreciate it."

He forced back a smile and watched as she walked to the exit of the sewers. He followed her and as they exited the man looked about seeing no sign of Broga or the assassins anywhere. He could not smell their blood or sweat and he surely couldn't see them. He stepped out a little and upon the emerald horizon he could see the fiery sunrise lifting through the trees. He would need to return to the sewers before sunrise.

Elizabeth stood beside him; admiring the countryside. The cobalt water looked enticing and refreshing to her hot and sore body. Xilivicus turned to the girl and placed his fist under her chin turning and tilting her head to him. She looked up with interested eyes as he whispered to her, "Return to your father quickly and tell him of what I have told you, do you understand?"

His thumb pressed right below her lips and she closed her eyes for a second. His touch felt so familiar. As she opened her eyes she questioned, "Will I ever see you again?"

Xilivicus felt his heart ache and he shook his head lightly, "No, I don't think we will." As he shook his head a waved lock of orange fell beside his eyes.

Elizabeth caught glimpse of this lock of hair and her heart began racing. As his hand retreated to his side she saw his dark purple skin and a frown overcame her lips. No, it couldn't be. The Churl closed his eyes and said, "Goodbye, Ms. Asquerana."

The Elf lifted her sorrowful eyes feeling her heart cry out for just one thing…

-+-

"Shall we attack now?" Xion snarled as the assassins and commander hid within a cluster of trees on the right side of the sewers.

"No," Broga sneered while stroking his Daedric bow. "Not yet…"

The Assassins readied their bows and pointed their barbed arrows at Xilivicus with narrowed and precise eyes.

-+-

"Shall we attack now?" Hieronymus Lex snarled while crouched and hidden near a bush on the left side of the sewers; his icy eyes piercing through the dimness.

The Hero glared upon Xilivicus and the maiden with eyes of malice. "No, not yet…"

Three other guards, including Jerald, hid within the shadows of the trees and shrubs waiting to assail the Dremora who had taken Elizabeth. The Hero readied his bow and pointed it at Xilivicus.

Waiting…

-+-

"Goodbye, Ms. Asquerana." He had whispered to her.

The maiden smiled weakly and said, "You are truly a savior, Dremora. I don't know how I could ever thank you for saving my life."

Xilivicus scoffed and hissed, "My debt is repaid for putting you into harm's way."

"Actually," the maiden whispered to him as she stepped near. "I haven't thanked you… in a proper way; as a noblewoman should to her champion."

The Churl backed up an inch or two, watching as the girl stood on her tiptoes. Her soft cold fingertips had brushed across his cheeks as she curled her fingers under his mask and began pulling it down. She halted when he tenderly whispered out of his Daedric accent, "Wait…" He hadn't put up much of a resistance, so she continued pulling his mask down. His pouted lavender lips were exposed and Elizabeth could feel her heart race in her chest as his warm breathe rushed down upon her. The upper portion of his face was still hidden beneath the hood. All that the High Elf could see was his royal purple square jaw.

Her hand cupped his cheek and she moved forward softly pressing her pale lips upon his own. Xilivicus' eyes fluttered closed and he leaned forward, returning the kiss. His heart raced beneath his breast and he lifted a hand and ran his dark fingertips through her long silver hair.

Upon either side of the sewers, the warriors of Oblivion and Tamerial stood in utter shock. The Assassins had dropped their bows with agape mouths and wide eyes as they saw such mutiny and betrayal. The Captains of the Guard dropped their swords with white faces as they saw a noblewoman in the arms of their highest enemy; one of Lord Dagon's followers. The Hero clutched his bow tightly causing it to tremble. Broga clutched his bow tightly breaking it in half as if it were merely a twig.

Woodland and Crimson eyes scorched these lovers in utter fury and jealousy. The Assassins picked up their bows and readied themselves. Broga lifted his fist and said, "Retreat."

Xion blinked furiously, "What?!"

Broga turned around with a calm face, "… retreat. We have bigger plans." The Black Dremora stood in the dimness and turned around. "Let's go."

The Assassins turned and quickly left with their commander.

Lex turned his eyes to the Hero who was about to launch the arrow through both Elizabeth and Xilivicus. "Put your bow down, now."

The Hero trembled and his fingers began to slip off the arrow. Just as he was about to let it launch; Lex took out his dagger and sliced the arrow in half. His eyes pierced down upon the Hero. Parts of his long dark hair falling into his face, "You might be a Hero… but that won't give you the right to murder a human even if they are in love with a Daedra."

"She's not in love with him," Jerald snarled detestably with a fierce look lingering on his face.

Itius cocked an eyebrow while lowering his bow, "Then… just what do you call that then?"

Jerald bowed his head in humiliation and looked away. Lex nodded and sheathed his dagger upon the belt of his armor. He turned back to the Imperial City and said, "There's nothing we can do here. The Waterfront needs tending to. Gods know what might have happened if I was gone! The Gray Fox could be walking the streets freely as we speak!"

Itius nodded and sighed, "I better get back to that man who claims Audens is corrupted. We might have a real problem if he is."

The Guard Captains began leaving one by one. Soon, it was only Jerald and the Hero left. Jerald looked up in pity and sorrow. What was he to say to him? "I…I'm so-"

"She's still going to be my wife," snarled the Hero as he stood from his hiding place. "Do you understand me?"

Jerald furrowed his brow and whispered, "You… you still want to marry her? After this?! Did you not see what I just saw?! She kissed a foul, cold-blooded, murdering son of a-"

The Hero tossed his gaze over to Jerald while snarling, "She'll be my wife… no matter _what_."

The High Elf watched as the Hero stormed away towards the Imperial City. Slowly, Jerald glanced back to his daughter then followed the Hero not knowing what to do from here.

-+-

Xilivicus unhurriedly pulled himself away from the girl's lips. His fingertips caressed her cheek and he bowed his head and spoke in his Daedric accent, "… goodbye, Ms. Asquerana."

Elizabeth scowled and leaned her head upon his chest with a trembling lip. She held onto him tightly listening to his fluttering heart. The Dremora hugged her tightly and whispered, "One day soon… we'll see each other again."

The High Elf lifted her head and looked up into the darkness of his hood, "Promise?"

A weak smile spread across his lips and he nodded, "I promise… now I must go."

Elizabeth smiled faintly and caressed his violet cheek as she whispered, "Goodbye, my knight."

The Dremora cupped his hand over hers as he whispered, "…goodbye, my angel."

They slowly backed away from one another. As her hand fell from his face, their fingers laced for a moment. As they pulled far away enough their fingertips slid over each other and they had separated. Xilivicus bowed and as he did he disappeared in a green swirl. Elizabeth blinked and frowned and gently she felt lips against her cheek. She smiled and could feel fabric brush across her neck and chest. She bowed her head and turned to the Imperial City with a broad grin.

Surely, this was the beginning of a perfect day…

… or so… she thought.

_**--TBC--**_

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**_R&R! You know you want to tell me everything that is good (and bad) about this story. Give me ideas and I might just use them... think about it... Thank you for Reading._**


	13. The Punished

**_I'm still happy people are critiquing my fan story as well as giving me encouragement on continuing. Thank you all for taking time to read this and review. I appreciate it more than you know.

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_**-+-**_

The Dremora laughed happily as he leapt through the woods with such delight and happiness pulsing through his black veins. A smile broadened across his face as the first few rays of light fell from the heavens and lightened up the treetops. Xilivicus ran up a broken log and as he came to the jagged end he flipped off and landed once more upon the soft calm grass. He sprinted even faster as such adrenaline pulsed through his veins. As he bounded out of the woods and saw a long emerald hill, he leapt from it with such agility. He felt Mara and Dibella holding him up into the air allowing him to almost fly through the golden and violet sky. The wind blew delicately across his face and as he landed he could see the Oblivion gate not so far from where he was. He had to return to Oblivion to report to Dagon about the maiden's "death". Soon, this entire crisis would be over! … And forever would he and Elizabeth be separated.

His face softened as his heart became burdensome in his chest. In his own personal way he was restoring order to Tamerial. Elizabeth would be a memory that throughout eternity he would never forget. His violet fingertips rose and brushed across his supple lips. Oh, how he would miss her so. But this was how it was meant to be. He was sure of it.

As he crossed the green meadows he approached the gargantuan gate. His eyes lifted up to the portal and his happiness seemed drained and taken from him as if this portal was a parasite. Xilivicus lifted his mask and fitted it over his mouth as he entered the Oblivion gate. Darkness swirled around him and consumed him and as he opened his eyes he saw the Halls of Dagon's Court. The Churl quickly familiarized himself and headed off to the court. His alibi was pieced together like a puzzle and he even put questions in his way that Dagon could ask of him.

The Dremora was certain that he could pull this scam off. The doors of the Court loomed over him like the shadow of death and leisurely the Churl stepped forward. His hands curled around the golden handles and he pushed the doors open; entering without hesitation. His head lowered and he announced, "Lord Dagon—I have terrible news of-" his eyes rose.

Before Lord Dagon was a band of the assassins. They all turned to look at Xilivicus with insufferable eyes. Broga turned as well with a relaxed façade, his nostrils flaring every once and a while. The armrests of Dagon's primeval throne seemed shredded apart by the Daedric Prince's jagged ebon nails. A cagey and homicidal vibe was pulsed out from the Lord of Misery and Disaster. Dagon's black eyes shifted over to the door; fixing the abhorrence upon the Churl. "Dear Dremora Xilivicus," called out the hoarse and vile voice of Dagon which sent a frightened chill to roll down the Churl's back. "… I've been waiting for you."

-+-

Elizabeth watched as the guards opened the market district doors for her. As she entered, a guard bowed to her and said, "My, you look very lively for such an early time in the morning."

The Elf laughed softly and shrugged, "It's been a good morning, I suppose."

She entered the city and held herself back from leaping around screaming happily. Surely this would frighten the beggars. She held herself tightly and bit her lower lip trying to calm down her ever broadening smile. The breeze blew upon her warm body and encased her in such a delightful feeling. Xilivicus was alive! Oh, how her heart sang out to the heavens! She praised Mara and Dibella for keeping her heart strong. She rounded the corner and ran to the Elven Garden District. She couldn't hold back this happiness any longer! Her feet were a blur across the ground as the guards speedily opened the door for her and watched as she sprinted through with a giggle. All worries and dangers fell from her mind as she was merely enveloped in this power.

Her eyes lifted to the door of the 'King and Queen Tavern' and her smile was lost. Her father, the Hero… what were they going to say for her late return? She compiled herself and with her pale fingertips she smoothed her hair and with a deep breathe she entered the establishment. The tavern owner was wiping down the tables which held many a spilt drink. A few broken glasses lay in ruins upon the floor appearing as crystals. The owner glanced up and smiled, "Good morning, Ms. Asquerana. You are up rather early."

She laughed sweetly and walked to the stairs, "Yes, I believe I am. I'm rather tired, too."

The owner chuckled causing his round belly to jiggle lightly as he stood up and rested his hands upon his arching back, "Oh, well I hope you catch at least a small rest."

She thanked him and skipped up the stairs hoping her father and the Hero were asleep. As she opened the door she saw them sitting at the newly repaired table. The Hero sat upon the top with folded arms. His hair drenched with sweat. Jerald heard the door open and his long pointed ears perked. He tossed his eyes over uninterested and sighed, "Ah, Elizabeth, you've finally returned."

The maiden smiled and nodded, "Yes, father. I thought I would go on a small walk about the city. I knew you wouldn't be too worried about it."

The High Elf lord flipped through his book with a purring voice, "Indeed." He closed his book and turned himself around in his chair giving her a look. Her clothes were soiled from the sewer corridors no doubt. He cleared his throat and questioned while turning forward in his chair, "Anything… interesting happen while you were out?"

Elizabeth took off her cape and furrowed her brow as she folded it before her very neatly, "No, I don't think there was anything."

Jerald pushed himself out of his chair and turned around with a scolding gaze, "Meet anyone new?"

Elizabeth shook her head while biting into her deceiving tongue. She turned to her door and said, "No one, really. It was still very early in the morning."

The Hero's nostrils flared and he calmed his voice, "What about… that assassin in the prison?"

Elizabeth froze and eyed the knob for a moment or so then she had serenely responded, "I didn't get to know him, sir." She turned to him with a rivaling gaze. "Why do you ask of him?"

The Hero shrugged his heavy weary shoulders and made his way over casually. "I went on a walk, too, Elizabeth. I went out to the outskirts of town." Elizabeth's eyes flashed with condemnation and the man continued while moving closer, "I saw you and that foul murderous Daedra together, so tell me…" he leaned against the wall and overlooked her, "what about that assassin in the prison?"

Elizabeth sidestepped away soon scoffing and crossing her arms as she stumbled for the words, "How absurd… that a-a-assassin and me? Don't be silly…"

Jerald tossed his gaze to the floor as his daughter lied before him. "I saw too, Elizabeth." His eyes lifted in shame. "What were you thinking?!" He pushed himself off the table and sauntered to his daughter. "He was trying to kill you and you…" he couldn't finish the sentence.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and retorted, "He wasn't trying to kill me! He's my friend!"

"What a friend," the Hero snarled. "Befriend a goblin… befriend an ogre… befriend a bloody slaughterfish—but a Daedra?! He's using you for the benefit of Mehrunes Dagon!"

Elizabeth's body tensed and she snapped, "No he is not!"

Jerald rubbed his eyes with a firm hand as he proclaimed, "Daedra are the loyal servants of Lord Dagon—they do everything only to please him. Elizabeth… he is no friend to you."

The maiden looked between them and shook her head in disbelief. "You both are so stereotypical! Xilivicus is not a hateful and uncaring man! He is kind… and sweet and gentle-"

"So, 'Xilivicus' is this creature's name?" the Hero hissed.

"Damnit, Elizabeth!" Jerald snapped while tossing his hand down from his eyes allowing his icy eyes to pierce through her. "Are you so blind to the fact that you have freed a Daedric assassin and have helped him and his group to freely walk out of the Imperial City and back to the shores of Oblivion?! You are breaking forbidden laws by even ensnaring this Daedra in your mind and acting out to assist him! You could be condemned to death…"

"Then condemned I will be," she chuckled weakly. Her eyes frosting over with sadness and frustration as her father and her knight could not understand that not all Daedra were evil. "This man is not evil, father. He saved me from being killed more than enough times. He gave his life for me and I'm not sure how, but he had returned from the graves of Oblivion and he has warned me of Dagon's plans. He is _not_ our enemy! Why can't you understand that?"

Jerald turned his eyes away from his daughter. His lips became sewn together as he no longer wished to argue over this. The Hero stood beside the Master Elf with a bowed head. There were a few questions that were nestled upon his tongue that he feared asking. The main one was: Do you love him? He already knew the answer. It had been told by the way she held that Dremora and kissed him. His body became the temple of jealously and he lifted his eyes, "I shall depart for Cloud Ruler Temple where the blademaster, the heir, and I shall find a way to close Oblivion and for once and for all end this crisis."

Jerald glanced up and feebly said, "May the Asquerana blessing be with you, dear sir."

The Hero nodded in thanks and turned his eyes to Elizabeth. They exchanged glares and the knight walked up to her and snarled from the corner of his lips, "I shall slay all Daedra that I see. Even your little assassin friend."

Elizabeth's eyes rose and she glared at the knight. She then hissed evenly, "I hope he returns the favor, then."

The Hero snorted and pushed past her soon walking out of the living quarters. The father and daughter stood near each other in utter silence. Elizabeth tossed her gaze to her father wondering what loomed upon his bothered mind. Her brow furrowed and she wished only to hug him and apologize for making him so angered. The man nodded and said, "We shall be leaving for Anvil as soon as possible. We shall stay there until this crisis is in every respect over."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and questioned, "Anvil? I thought we were going to live here in the Imperial City."

Jerald shook his head, "Bromus and your mother have found a perfect manor for a very reasonable price in Anvil. We shall live there and… and in due time when we move back to Kvatch you shall more and likely be awarded the title of Countess of Kvatch after marrying a nobleman who can support you."

The maiden shook her head and said, "Father, I don't want to marry some nobleman. Can I not choose my own path for once?"

Jerald's dark eyebrows lowered and he snarled, "Precisely, what would you choose? That filthy-blooded Daedra? Elizabeth, you are too naïve and dim to elect a suitor. That is why your mother and I shall… approve of a man for you."

"Dim? Naïve?" The maiden scoffed. "How would you know what I am, father? You haven't been a true part of my life in the last twenty years! I believe I will know what is better for me than some pompous cynical man like you."

"That's enough," Jerald snapped making his daughter cringe to some extent. "Gather your things… we're heading out to Anvil by midday. That's final."

The maiden lowered her head with vexation and disagreement. How could her father act like this towards her? She was practically her own woman but he still ordered her about like some sort of dictator. Yet… she still had to obey him. It wouldn't be safe for her to go out on her own with no money and no place to go. She stormed to her bedroom and as she entered she slammed the door and was encased wholly in darkness.

-+-

Xilivicus fell to the floor gasping for breathe. His tangerine hair completely fallen from the bound he had put it in. His hair falling all around his deep royal purple face. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he attempted to support himself. Blood ran down his body and pain overpowered him. Broga grinned as he stepped back and kicked his fellow Kyn harshly in the stomach sending him rolling onto his back. Lord Dagon lifted his hand and Broga backed off a little with a grin. Mehrunes leaned forward in his throne as he snarled, "… so far… we're at the part where you were captured. What happened next?"

Trembling; the Dremora pushed himself up to stand. He turned to his lord and called out, "I… I was… taken to prison-"

Dagon lifted his hand and Broga stepped up behind his rival and lifted his foot soon kicking him harshly in the back. The Churl toppled over, losing his breathe. A spurt of blood flew from his mouth as he hit the ground; nearly collapsing. By this time, the council members had reentered the courtroom and watched high upon their stands. A few Daedra turned away in pity. They cared for their brethren and wished that Dagon would stop this cruelty. One of the assassins who traveled to Tamerial glanced up to his lord and questioned, "My lord, must he be beaten so? Can we not hear this story without all these… intervals?"

The black vexing eyes of the Daedric Prince fell down upon his follower. He laced his fingers and sat back in his throne, "Continue, Churl…"

Xilivicus spat out a glob of saliva and blood. He quivered upon the ground and continued telling his part of the story. All of his brothers became highly interested as if they were little children listening to myths and legends. The Churl explained how the maiden had felt much pity for him and only wanted him to return to his Kyn. He told of their adventurous journey through the sewers. Broga crossed his arms and stood tall listening to these lies. He knew that Xilivicus was not going to tell of his admiration for the Elf and his betrayal to Lord Dagon. "… When we had escaped from the sewers, she had bid me blessings and let me go."

The councilmen nodded in approval as if the Churl had done nothing wrong whatsoever. Surely befriending an Altmer was a small crime in these parts of Oblivion; however, he had escaped from the Hero's clutches and Dagon's plans and goals were still mainly hidden from the Cyrodiilic people. Broga pursed his lips and then he called out and Xilivicus tilted his head listening, "Tell me, Churl, was this before or after you had kissed the girl?"

The councilmen froze in their stands. A few horrified gasps were let out and Dagon's jagged nails clenched tightly into his skin as his eyes began to burn like an everlasting inferno. Xilivicus' eyes widened and he protested, "No! I… I…"

Broga walked closer to the throne and boomed, "He's in _love_ with her! He's been devastating our plans making certain that she is out of our reach!"

"No I haven't," Xilivicus boomed while forcing himself up. His legs quaked and he nearly fell over in pain. A droplet of blood seeped through his lilac lips and he snarled, "I've been making certain that animals like you don't harm or even assassinate her!"

The court exploded in chatter and yells as Broga and Xilivicus began a heated argument. "**_SILENCE_**!" Dagon boomed causing the walls to nearly shatter and building dust cascade from the ceiling to the floor. Everyone fell silent and turned to their lord awaiting his commands and his punishment for Xilivicus. "Broga," Dagon announced, "go forth and gather the strongest of warriors for our final battle. Send a message to the Mythic Dawn and demand them to send out spies to locate and annihilate this wonderful Hero."

Broga bowed and replied, "As you say, my liege," he turned to his assassins and nodded towards the door. They quickly made their way out. The crimson eyes of the commander fell over to Xilivicus and as he turned to leave he smirked victoriously.

The Churl glared at him hatefully and he heard a growling hoarse voice call his name. He jerked his head forward to see Dagon's fatal gaze that held him in place like prison bars. "… as for you, you traitorous foolish imbecile… you shall be damned for eternity to dwell in the darkest of torture chambers—and upon the day that we conquer over Cyrodiil I shall force you to watch as I skin that little Altmer alive… then… I will make you devour her entrails. Possibly this will make you respect my laws more often." Dagon's eyes lifted to two guards standing near the grand doors, "Take his rotting carcass out of my court and put him into the darkest and smallest of cells that we have."

The guards stormed forward and grasped Xilivicus by the arms. As they hauled him to the doors, a vexation rose within the Churl's throat and his bright eyes pierced through the court and locked onto Dagon. He opened his mouth and boomed, "It was worth it, Dagon! It was _worth_ it!"

The court room's doors slammed shut and that noise seemed to echo throughout all of the Oblivion Planes. Xilivicus was tossed upon a charred stump of wood in the middle of a bloody dark torture chamber. He narrowed his eyes and his long strong nails pierced through the wood as he prepared for his punishment. One of the armored Dremora walked over to an altar and picked up a whip. As he lifted it from the altar, the jagged razor ends jingled together. The guard turned around and gave the whip a wave, preparing for a customary ten lashes before sending the prisoner to his cell.

Xilivicus' back tensed as he knew what was looming on his horizon. The second guard moved forward and removed a Daedric dagger from his belt. He leaned over Xilivicus and with one firm hand he grasped his clothes and tore through them easily. The tearing noise echoed in the chamber as the Dremora's royal purple brawny upper torso was fully exposed. His tangerine eyes fell to the ground where his shredded clothes lay. His ears perked as he heard the razors and his heart began racing in his chest. His trembling grip tightened on the stump as he tried to calm himself. His eyes closed and he saw Elizabeth. _This is for her… this is for **us**. _

The whip ripped through the air and the razors tore through Xilivicus' skin easily. At first, all the Dremora could feel was a cold rush and suddenly the pain overcame him and his eyes ripped open and the image of Elizabeth was set ablaze. His fingers ripped into the stump as this unbearable pain was placed upon him like tossing salts onto wounds. The whip was ripped backwards pulling chunks of bloodied skin and muscle along with it. Blood sprayed across the ground like a falling rain and the Churl gritted his teeth as another lash was sent out and tore into his already raw back.

_Crack!_

More skin was pierced and ripped out like pulling weeds from the earth.

_Crack!_

Blood rolled down his glistening back soon staining his trousers and the floor.

_Crack! Crack! CRACK! _

The agonizing screams echoed through the corridors like a sweet melody. The Churl laid in a pond of his own blood. His vision became blurred and he quickly forgot how many lashes there were left. Just as the guard lifted the bloodied whip, a hand grasped his wrist. The bloodstained helmet swirled around to see the intruder. Broga grinned brightly and questioned, "May I have the last few lashes?"

The guard furrowed his brow and handed over the whip to his superior. Broga whirled the whip around a few times with a chuckle, "Ironic, isn't it? How once upon a time you were the one standing here with the whip in your hand. Now it appears you are merely its victim," the Dremora tossed his arm back and as he moved forward he pushed all his force into the whip. The razors burrowed deep into the muscles of the Churl's back, chipping across bone. Xilivicus cried out and gritted his teeth even harder knowing they would soon shatter like glass.

Broga chuckled and soon jerked the whip back. Blood flew along with it and splattered across his face. "Three more lashes to go, brother!" He forced all his power into the next lash as well.

Xilivicus screamed as his nerves were shredded into pieces. His nails broke off into the stump as he tried to redirect the pain away from him. As the commander ripped the whip back he looked unsatisfied. "Surely your back must be numb with pain… you can't feel the lashes any longer! Well that won't do…" Broga walked forward and seized Xilivicus by the horns soon pulling him backwards. The Churl fell onto his back and writhed in pain as the dust upon the floor felt like acid upon his abrasions.

The commander grinned as he lifted his foot and placed it upon his lower abdominals. He lifted the whip and cracked it down upon his neck and chest. He ripped it backwards and Xilivicus screeched in agony. Another crack upon the chest made Xilivicus' gaze blur completely. Broga laughed and leaned over soon snarling, "Last one… for today." Broga lifted the whip high and slammed it down upon Xilivicus' chest.

He ripped it out and tossed it aside soon storming to the door. The guard bowed and thanked Broga. The Commander stormed out of the chamber and as he ascended the stairs to the planes of Oblivion he lifted a hand and caressed a deep jagged scar on his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes and remembered _that_ day clearly. When it was Xilivicus who cracked the whip upon his back in punishment. The Commander shook that memory from his head as he headed off to his quarters.

Xilivicus' eyes rolled back into his head as he slid into a peaceful painless unconsciousness.

-+-

Elizabeth looked back upon the Imperial City with saddened eyes. Her father approached her upon his black steed. He stopped before her and looked at the Imperial City himself. There were so many great times back there when he was just a lad in the Arcane University. "Elizabeth… let's go."

The maiden nodded and snapped the reins upon her chestnut horse. The two headed down the long coiled road that led to Anvil. With each gallop her heart became heavier and the hope for seeing Xilivicus extinguished like a flame underwater, and this was how it was going to be for such a long time to come.

_**--TBC-- **__**

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_**R&R! I'm glad people are enjoying this story. New update soon. I'm typing it right now so don't worry about another long updation period.**_


	14. Truth Won't Always Set You Free

_**Ok, I know that the time frames in this chapter aren't right according to the game. Like—it only took you maybe two or three days to complete the whole main quest (if you beat it a few times), well I'm gonna stretch it out and make it more believable like… three weeks. That gives the Hero time to rest and drink and do quests than come back and rest and drink again. Just thought I'd cover myself before anyone flames me for making the time period too long. Thank you for reading, I'm so happy to see people enjoying this story. I'm also happy to read critiques and try and get better. Hope you enjoy. **__**

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_**-+-**_

Three weeks had passed since the assassins' attack in the Imperial Prison. The Asquerana family had found that the mansion they bought indeed was haunted; therefore, they moved their settlement out to an abandoned farm called Gweden. After a few hours at the farm, the Asquerana family found that there was a series of crimes and murders there, so they quickly sprinted back to Anvil and stayed in the 'Count's Arms'. The reunion of mother, father, daughter, butler and sons was a rather joyous one. Her eldest of brothers, Daelon, had long straight black hair that shined like oil. Part was braided and pulled back into an Elven bound hairstyle while the lower and longer part of his hair merely fell at his shoulder. His eyes were of amber, just like his mother. When he first caught sight of his sister his long sun kissed ears perked and he sprinted at her embracing her tightly. "Elizabeth…!" He wheezed in a faltering voice. "I-I… you're alive!"

The maiden grinned and hugged her brother's tall slender body back nearly wrapping her arms fully around him, "Yes, I'm alive."

Her other brothers were twins; Orrick and Caldwyn. Both were tall like Jerald with sandy blonde hair inherited mostly from their mother. Their eyes were moss color and there skin was nearly as pale as Elizabeth's skin. The twins grinned and walked over to either side of the girl wrapping their arms around her and taking turns to speak.

"We thought surely that you were dead!" Orrick chuckled.

"Looks like you proved us wrong!" Caldwyn laughed while messing up his sister's hair.

"How was Oblivion like? Was it scary? What did the Daedra look like?" Orrick questioned.

Caldwyn slapped away the questions with a groan, "It's Elizabeth we're talking about, brother! Surely, she fought off all those nasty brutes like they were only prairie rats!"

Daelon smiled and hugged Elizabeth the tightest. Being the oldest he took on the responsibility of looking after his younger siblings. The day that Kvatch was under siege and Jerald told him that Elizabeth was not coming with, he did all that he could to attempt to go and find her, but Bromus had to drag him through the secret passageway out of Kvatch.

As the brothers departed, Elizabeth looked ahead and saw the old friendly face of the Nord Butler. The girl smiled greatly and rushed over to him with wide arms. The two embraced and Bromus nearly sobbed onto her shoulder. Elizabeth's mother seemed the least pleased about her daughter's return. At sight, Mrs. Asquerana gave her daughter a weak smile and she turned back to her duties. Elizabeth's heart broke and Daelon quickly took Elizabeth away. He smiled as he showed her room in the tavern.

Daelon pushed open her door with a grin, "Orrick and Caldwyn got together and prepared your room for you. They… they knew you only liked to sleep upon down sheets and pillows and that you liked to have a glass of water by your bed."

Elizabeth walked in and held her hands before herself with a smile as she looked upon this beautiful room. There was a little roll of parchment on her bed that had her name on it. She walked over curiously and picked it up soon unrolling it. She blinked and smiled sweetly at what was upon it. Daelon chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with a weak smile, "Orrick wanted to draw you a picture… and… I guess that's what he did."

Elizabeth looked at the picture of six elven blobs in a huddle as well as a Nordic blob. Surely, this was the Asquerana family. The girl's deep sea eyes shimmered as she looked upon this. Her family had changed so much. Once upon a time they were rude and hateful, but now they seemed to love and cherish each moment together. Daelon leaned upon the doorway and coughed, "… I overheard, father telling mother about what happened in the Imperial City… with the Daedra."

Elizabeth tilted her head to a side. Her eyes narrowed to catlike slits and she questioned casually, "Oh, and what had he said?"

Daelon furrowed his brow while walking inside the room. He wrapped his arms around his sister's neck, leaning his thin jaw upon the crown of her silver head. "… He just said that you had a close brush with assassins. It's absolutely insane that the Daedra are so absorbed into catching you. You're becoming one of the most known Altmer all over Cyrodiil!"

Elizabeth's eyes shimmered in the candlelight. Her hair turned to gold in the dim light that surrounded them. Her eyes searched the floor as she thought wordlessly to herself. "Daelon… may I ask you a question?"

His amber eyes turned into fireflies as he looked down upon her. The candlelight affected his appearance as well, "Of course."

The maiden moistened her lips and inquired; "If…" she creased her brow as she thought of how to word it. She turned to her brother and looked up at him. "If you were a member of the Blade and you… fell in love with a woman of the Mythic Dawn, what would you do?"

Daelon scowled with a slight confusion. Where had this question evolved from? He cleared his throat and let that question process through his mind for a moment or two. It was a very contradicting question, it was. Love was a very beautiful thing and between two people it could end wars—but a Blade and a Mythic Dawn? So opposite. Surely their brethrens' blades would clash more than one time in their courtship. "I'm not specifically sure, Elizabeth. I would say it depends on the person, but even then it would not matter that much. If they were truly in love, then I suppose they would both quit their unions to join one another."

"What if they couldn't?" questioned the girl with wide wondering eyes, "what if they were bound by blood to their unions?"

Daelon's mind fell even further into deliberation as this question developed into quite a challenge. His hand lifted and he rubbed his chin harshly. A profound sigh was let off and he answered, "Eloping would neither solve the problem nor take away the endeavors for everywhere they go the couple shall be judged and hated. I… I would say that it would be easier to move on than to love at all."

Elizabeth turned away and walked to the other side of the room, "I… I see." Devastation and misery overcame her voice and Daelon looked her over with worried eyes.

He stepped near her bed and crossed his arms across his chest, "Why would you ask that question?"

Elizabeth sat down upon her soft luxuriant bed leaning back slightly with fallen eyes. Could she tell her brother? Would he understand? Or would he be as stubborn and cynical as her father was? She closed her eyes and shook her head, "There's no reason."

Daelon watched her posture very carefully. He saw how tense and stressed she was and how tired her muscles were from working so much. Her bowed defeated head gave him another sort of answer. He would not force her to go further into the subject. She would speak when she needed to speak. "Well… I hope you enjoy your room. Dinner is at eight. Don't be late," he walked over to the door and just as he was about to leave he stopped in the threshold and glanced back into the room. His shadow cast over her as she hunched over and placed her elbows upon her thighs. "I'm always here if you need me, Elizabeth. No matter what, you know that right?"

The girl nodded her head simply and called back, "Yes, I know… thank you, Daelon."

He smiled and grabbed the door soon closing it gently. Right as the door had closed, Elizabeth fell to her side in a sobbing fit. Her hands grasped at her pillow as she buried her face into it; hushing herself. She pulled up and glanced to the candle seeing the flame dance for her. Her tired eyes closed and she whispered softly, "Xilivicus… why won't they just understand?"

Her lips pursed as she let the smell of the candle intoxicate her and allowed the darkness to overwhelm her and cover her like a blanket, praying that Dibella and Mara were with Xilivicus, wherever he may be.

-+-

Three weeks.

Twenty One nights of torture.

Twenty One days of heartbreak.

Twenty One reasons why following under the law and authority of Mehrunes Dagon fueled a certain Dremora's hatred and eternal wrath. A dark purple hand rested upon the wicked barred doors of one of the cells of a prison. Ebony fingernails tapped across the bars in rhythm for this was the only form of entertainment that he had gotten. His piercing fiery eyes still alive as ever. When the gong of night had been struck, he had begun his exercising to make certain that his body did not waste away in this Hell.

He carved oval holes in the walls where he could place his hands. He lifted his body off the floor and lifted himself until his head pressed onto the ceiling. He would repeat this one hundred times until his arms seemed entirely dead to him. He would fall upon the floor and begin sit ups. This carried on until the slavers came for him.

A guard unlocked the cell and looked in upon the Churl. "You there, arise."

Xilivicus stood and turned to the guardsman with a somber face. "Is it time already for the torture chambers? My… how time flies in this little room."

The guard shook his head, "Your punishment has come to a halt for the Commander wishes for your company."

The Churl narrowed his eyes with a growl, "Broga wishes for my company? How odd… did he say for what reason?"

"No," the guardsman said, "you are to report to the Watch room overlooking the courtyard. If you stray anywhere else than it shall be back to the torture chamber with you."

Xilivicus stepped out of the cell. His bare back exposing many jagged and morbid scars upon his back appearing as creative designs. His skin had fully healed over and became so much stronger. "Shall I be given no proper clothes to present myself in?"

The guardsman chuckled, "You're lucky he didn't order you to walk there completely bare."

The Churl bowed his head to the guardsman and he began his journey. It felt wonderful to walk down these chambers. He hadn't seen the sky in such a long time that he had forgotten what it looked like. He skipped up the stairs and he came to the threshold that led out to the planes of Oblivion. He rushed out and looked up at the crimson sky and rolling clouds. His heart fluttered as he saw this masterpiece. His eyes quickly located the watch tower where Broga had ordered him to come. Just as he began moving, his eyes came to the great gate that led out of this Hell.

His soul pushed upon the walls of his heart, screaming for his getaway. However, there were guards looming before, behind, and around it. He was far more skilled than them, but they could hold him back long enough for Broga or worse commanders to come and arrest him. His head turned to the watch tower and he quickly jogged over to the main door. His arms throbbed in ache as he approached at the front grand door. The Kynmarcher standing near the door gave Xilivicus a curious look behind his mask for all that the Churl wore were a dirtied and tattered pair of linens. "Sir," the Churl bowed respectively, "I have been summoned by Commander Broga."

The Kynmarcher nodded and turned around to grasp a large black lever. The doors clicked as they slid back into the walls like plates. Xilivicus quickly walked into the darkness, ascending the stairs that led to the great watch room.

-+-

The great watch room was a rather expanded area. Every wall was one majestic looking glass. Holding the glass up were black spider web like structures. There was no sun that resided in Oblivion. Instead, the raging waves of lava acted as Oblivion's light. Far up in the air, the rooms of buildings became much darker. The watch room was an excellent example of this. In the center of the watch room was a great fire pit. It illuminated the entire room. Four benches swirled around the fire pit where Kynmarchers and Kynreeves would rest during their rounds.

Near the window, stood a gargantuan figure that looked over Oblivion as if he were its god. The man's crimson eyes looked at his own reflection on the glass that was before him. His arms wrapped around his back as he stood fully upright. His right firm ebon hand grasped his left wrist in a military manner.

There was a clamor behind him and his jagged curved ear perked. He tilted his head to a side giving a petite glance behind him. He smirked and said, "Ah, brother! How wonderful it is to see you still alive! I feared that you weren't strong enough to last out three weeks in the prison. It appears that you have proved me wrong."

Xilivicus walked forward with hatred swirling like an inferno in those piercing orange eyes of his. "Yes… it appears I have. Why have you called me, Broga?"

The commander turned around soon smoothing a thick black and crimson strand of hair from his face. He grinned and said, "I have shown Oblivion's hospitality to many a stranger who wander by our gate. They have had some interesting things to say in the last few hours of them residing here. Would you like to hear what they have to say?"

The Churl narrowed his eyes and spoke stridently over the roaring of the fire, "Either way I answer you shall force me to tag along, won't you?"

Broga chuckled and crossed his arms over his Daedric attire, "If you answer no than I shall send you back to your little cell for the rest of eternity. Why would you wish that upon yourself, hmm? Come… follow me to the grand tower."

Xilivicus watched Broga walk over to a door that led out to a bridge which crossed over to the grand tower. The commander turned round and shrugged slightly, "Well… are you coming?"

The Churl was hesitant; however, he quickly stormed over and followed his superior over to the grand tower where things could only get worse.

-+-

The chapel bells tolled eight and Elizabeth's weary eyes slowly slid open as though prince charming had kissed her and broken her from her spell. She rose from her bed and glanced to the door which was still shut. Everyone would be gathered downstairs in the dining room to enjoy dinner together. She could not skip if she tried for surely Daelon or Bromus would come up and beg her to come down. If that didn't work… than Jerald would be the one to force her out of her room. She slid her hand through her silky silver hair, pushing it from her light face.

With sadness still burdening her, she walked out of her room and quickly made her way across the living quarters. With every step, flashes of the Oblivion corridors hampered her mind. It had been nearly a month since she was even near an Oblivion gate. Why could she not rid herself of this powerful ghost? She shook it from her mind as she opened the door and walked down into the main room of the Count's Arms. At the bottom of the stairs, Bromus stood with a smile lightening his face. He bowed and said, "Milady, your family awaits you in the dining room. Shall I announce you?"

Elizabeth grinned and shook her head, "There is no need to announce me, Bromus. I am just a girl, not a Queen."

The Nord chuckled and shrugged soon stepping back allowing the girl to walk into the small dining room. The regular circular table had been taken out and replaced with a long rectangular table. Jerald sat at one end and his wife at the other. Upon one side were the twins and the other was Daelon and an empty seat which awaited Elizabeth.

"Ah! So you came!" Caldwyn chuckled.

"We didn't think you'd want to eat with us," Orrick nodded with a large portion of mutton in his mouth.

Ms. Asquerana sneered and said in a graceful beautiful tone of voice, "Orrick Asquerana, you will choke if you do not take smaller bites!"

Orrick waved away the advice taking another extreme bite. His eyes widened and he coughed a few times. Caldwyn tossed his eyes over unimpressed. He raised his hand and thumped his brother upon the back sending the piece of mutton flying out onto his plate. Daelon rolled his eyes while taking a sip of wine, "Nice one, Orry."

Jerald frozen eyes tossed over to his daughter and he hissed, "Take your seat, Elizabeth. Your food will get cold."

The girl walked around the table leisurely. Daelon stood and pulled his sister's chair back with a grin. Elizabeth stood in front of the table as her brother pushed in the seat for her and she sat. Daelon took his seat again and passed the mutton to his sister who cut herself a portion and placed it down. Orrick took a sip of ale and chuckled, "Wow! Someone is being a gentleman for once. What's with the change?"

Daelon laughed and shrugged, "I don't want to be a distant brother anymore."

Caldwyn furrowed his brow, "You don't act so pleasant towards us—what's with that?"

The eldest sibling rolled his eyes and snorted, "You two are stubborn idiots and it's rather hard to keep sane while around you both."

Orrick laughed and took a bite of his meal, "Just because you're older you think you're more mature."

"And… this is coming from the Elf who still blows bubbles in his ale." Daelon scoffed.

Jerald sighed deeply and groaned, "Don't fight at the dinner table, boys."

Elizabeth dabbed her napkin at her lips and as she leaned forward to put it down, her necklace chimed from gold dancing across gold. Her mother's eyes glanced up at the glitter and she smiled, "My, my, what a beautiful necklace!"

The maiden held up her hand and felt the flower pendant. "Oh… thank you," she smiled softly.

"I do not believe I have ever seen you wear that, Elizabeth," her mother said while leaning forward to give it a glance. "May I see it?"

She was cynic and very hesitant, for she didn't want to take it off and hand it away like it was some little trinket. After a moment, she nodded and reached up and slowly undid the golden link. It caressed down her neck and made a tingle run through her chest. She caught it in a hand and gently presented it to her mother.

The elder woman took it and held it by the ends of the necklace with a grin. Never in her life had she seen such pure gold! Her beautiful face lit up and her eyes widened in astonishment, "It is very beautiful… did you get it from the Imperial market?"

Elizabeth smiled at the compliment, soon pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Actually, I had gotten it from a friend."

Jerald's eyes flashed with interest and he looked up at the necklace with a vexed glare. Caldwyn and Orrick leaned close with a smirk, "What kind of friend, Elizabeth?" They chimed.

The maiden laughed lightly and saw the gold glitter. She remembered when Xilivicus had presented it to her and wanted her to wear it. "Just a good friend of mine…"

Daelon saw her crystal eyes lit up with happiness that he had never seen before. His mind began working and the pieces of the puzzle began fitting together. Just as the elder woman was about to hand back the necklace, a hand swiped in and took it from her. Elizabeth blinked rapidly and glanced up to see Jerald with the necklace clutched tightly in his hand. His eyes pierced her skin like daggers. He glanced at the necklace and snarled, "Out of this world craftsmanship… completely pure gold, and designs that I've never seen in my life." He looked back to his daughter and demanded, "Who gave you this necklace?"

The girl's eyes iced over and she snarled, "… give it back to me."

Jerald narrowed his eyes hatefully, soon turning and leaving the room. Elizabeth leapt up and sped after him. The twins stood up and followed in wonderment as did Ms. Asquerana. Daelon lingered for a moment wondering why his father got so fumed over that necklace. Jerald stormed into the main room and Elizabeth seized his arm and twirled him around, "Give me that necklace!"

"Who did you get it from?!" He boomed.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in anger. Her nostrils flared and she snarled back, "Someone you don't know, give it back to me!"

Jerald chuckled madly and turned to the fireplace with heated eyes, "You got it from _him _didn't you?" He turned back around to his daughter and snarled, "Didn't you?!"

The rest of the Asquerana family stood by and watched this madness. They were utterly confused but slowly they too pieced together these actions and words and could tell what was happening. Daelon walked up behind the twins and watched the black figures of his sister and father fight back and forth with hateful words. Elizabeth curled her hands into fists as she snarled, "That necklace is very precious to me, father! Give it to me now!"

Jerald held it up and waved it a little with a chuckle, "This little thing? Now… how can it be so valuable to you? You don't even remember who gave it to you!"

Elizabeth stepped forward and screamed, "Give it to me!"

The High Elf Lord boomed back, "TELL ME WHO GAVE IT TO YOU!"

Tears burdened Elizabeth's eyes and she shook her head, "Why tell you what you already know, Jerald?"

His eyes widened and his pupils disappeared seas of raging blue. His nostrils quivered as this hating wrath built inside of him. His hands shook as he gripped the necklace tighter. His eyes fell to the fire and he rolled his body around and chucked the necklace into the burning hellfire. Elizabeth's eyes slowly followed the golden necklace as it hit the back of the fireplace and fell into the burning coals turning invisible. Elizabeth's mouth fell open and she looked to her father with such shame and grief. Her lips quivered and she snarled, "I love him, father. Is that what you wanted to hear all this time?! I love him and I always will and you may pick every man in this world to be my suitor but I will never marry anyone! Xilivicus is my love! Xilivicus has my _heart_!"

Jerald shook his head and yelled at her, "He's a Daedra!"

The Asquerana family stood motionless as they heard this. The owner of the tavern froze as well, trying to force this quarrel from his mind. Daelon stepped forward and called out gently, "…Elizabeth…?"

The maiden shook her head and snarled, "He's not like the other Daedra, father! Why can't you just comprehend that?!"

"Because it is not the truth, you stupid girl! He's a monster!" He snarled.

Tears streamed down Elizabeth's cheeks as she cried out, "The only monster I see is you!"

The High Elf man could constrain himself any longer. His tongue exploded, "Forget all about this damned Daedra! At the end of the war you shall be married off to the Hero of Kvatch and soon the Hero of all Cyrodiil! I have already promised him your hand in marriage and he wishes not to cancel our agreement."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she hissed, "How… how could you… I don't love him! I barely like him! Father, please!"

"No! There is no other way! You and he shall be wed and that is that! This pathetic Daedra must be pushed from your mind and discarded for you shame your entire family even considering him as a lover!"

"He is more than that, father." She snarled with tears in her eyes, "I hope you perish in the war… than I shall marry who I want and I won't be bound to the heartless and barbaric knight whom you seem to grovel over!"

Jerald gnashed his teeth together and swiftly backhanded his daughter. Elizabeth gasped and her cheek immediately turned pink as more tears fell down her face. The High Elf Lord then snarled, "How dare you!"

Elizabeth grabbed her cheek and glared at him, "I _hate_ you!" She ran to the door and slipped out into the coldness of Anvil.

Jerald watched her with narrowed eyes. Daelon glared at his father then tried running at the door but Jerald stopped him and boomed, "… Stop…"

Daelon glanced over to his father and snarled, "How can you just stand there?! Do you have no sympathy to your own daughter's feelings?!"

The High Elf Lord shook his head and hissed, "I have _no_ daughter."

Daelon's eyes widened as he watched his father walk away. The eldest son looked over to his mother who stood there as if nothing had happened. How unfeeling this family was! Caldwyn and Orrick gave Daelon saddened looks and slowly they stepped away and walked to their rooms. A hand touched Daelon's shoulder and the boy looked over to see Bromus. The Nord had a weak smile, "I will get her. Go upstairs."

With hesitance; Daelon lingered than quickly stormed away. Bromus scowled and sighed profoundly soon slipping out into the night.

-+-

Broga grinned as he stood by a railing of a balcony; he looked down and saw four bound Cyrodiilic hostages. Behind them stood armored Daedra. Xilivicus soon followed and looked down upon these people. His eyes widened as he saw them. Their bodies drenched with their own blood and sweat. They cried out behind bondages that grasped their lips. Broga called out to the Daedra and they lifted a young Argonian male to his feet. His scales shimmered in the firelight. One Dremora pulled off the rag that was tied around its mouth. The Commander leaned on the rail and called out, "Tell me what you and your friends had told me… about this city Anvil."

The Argonian's shifty reptilian eyes looked back and forth between Broga and Xilivicus. His tongue skimmed over jagged teeth as he hissed, "I… I saw a very royal and rich family come into the city in the middle of the day many days ago. They had hailed from Kvatch! I… I was intrigued and asked around and found out who… who these people were."

Broga nodded and called out, "Carry on, reptile."

The Argonian nodded and pulled on his bondages a little soon saying, "The… The Asquerana family. Fully consisting of Jerald and his wife Hiera, his sons, Caldwyn, Orrick, and Daelon, and his only begotten daughter, Lady Elizabeth Asquerana."

Xilivicus' body tensed as he heard her name. No… it couldn't have been. Broga caught glimpse of his brethren's face and he smirked soon turning back to the Argonian, "Anvil was it? Could you pinpoint that destination on a map for us, precisely?"

"Yes… m-my lord." The Argonian stumbled for words.

"Good," Broga grinned and he questioned, "Your beloved Hero of Kvatch… where does he reside?"

"Last I heard—he was still in Bruma with the Emperor's son!"

The commander pouted his lips for a second then inquired, "How far is it from Bruma to Anvil, hmm?"

"V-Very far, sir… it would take many an hour to get from one location… t-to the next." The Argonian stated.

Broga chuckled and nodded, "Very good… very good…" his eyes lifted to the Daedra and he called out, "Find a map for this nice gentleman. Kill the rest."

The three other hostages gasped and tried screaming but they had no time. The Daedra who loomed behind them took out axes and with one forceful blow, their heads fell- separated- from their bodies. The last Daedra grabbed the Argonian and hauled him off to Dagon's Court.

Broga turned around and walked back out to the bridge with a smile on his face. Xilivicus was frozen in his footsteps; awestruck. Suddenly, he turned and raced after Broga. They walked into the watch room and Xilivicus snarled, "Why did you have to kill them?! They were innocent people!"

The commander rolled his eyes, "So merciful… I find it _disgusting_."

"Damnit, Broga!" Xilivicus boomed, "Why did you call me here?!"

Silence overcame them and the commander turned and looked at his Kyn. A smile broadened his face and he said, "Elizabeth, my brother, Elizabeth… she is in this city right now! Three weeks of searching and capturing these filthy humans and Mer and we have finally found her hiding spot! The Hero is no where in sight and this shall be our chance… an Oblivion gate is being anchored right now as we speak, and to keep the hero busy… there is an Oblivion gate being anchored next to every major city."

Xilivicus narrowed his eyes and hissed, "So that's it, hmm? You wanted to boast about how you are going to finally capture her?! And what will you do after that? She will be Dagon's and after he is finished with her—"

"—she will be mine," Broga chuckled. "Just like Dagon has pledged. I bring him the girl, he gets the facts and figures he needs… and I get whatever is left of her." A dark chuckle came from his lips.

Xilivicus gnashed his teeth and hissed, "You _bastard_…"

Broga turned to look out the watch room, his hands grasped behind his back. "We invade tonight… on the hour of the new day. That way everyone shall be sound asleep and no one will escape. Not like they had last time… you may depart for your cell, brother. I have no further use of you."

Xilivicus' rolled his purple hands into violet fists. His body trembled; however, he knew there was nothing he could possibly do. He turned to the stairs and stormed away. Broga listened to him leave, a smirk on his lips and that lustful gleam in his eyes. He chuckled and turned to the fire; ambling closer. "Oh, Tamerial… how you shall fall feebly into my clutches," his risen hand gripped into a fist as he imagined Tamerial in his palm. He chuckled and watched the flames dance for him and only him. His eyes narrowed torpidly and he purred, "Oh, Elizabeth, how you are like this fire." He stepped nearer until his skin felt hot. "Beautiful and fascinating… so tempting to touch," he extended his hand and the flames kissed his fingertips. It singed his black skin and he recoiled his hand with a chuckle. He was fond of pain. "But you burn anyone who touches you… leaving your mark forever."

He turned around looking at the small burn mark on his hand. He walked to the window and looked out with a sigh, "In time, I shall quench your fire and make you vulnerable once and for all." He chuckled darkly and looked to the quad of Daedra who loomed in front of the newly anchored gate. "It's Showtime."

_**--TBC-- **__**

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_**Thank you all for reading! R&R, please! Hope you enjoyed it.**_


	15. The Darkest of Labrynths

**_Thanks for all the reviews guys, it means a lot and I'm glad you are giving me pointers and ideas that might be interesting. Here's the new Chapter, hope you enjoy. _**

**_Recommended Song: 'Miss Murder' by AFI _**

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_Huff, huff, huff, huff. _

She glided across the cobblestone with wings on her feet. Her heart was shredding itself apart in her chest as more tears clouded her eyes and caused her vision to become blurry. Her mind attempted to hinder her from running so far; however, she knew that she needed to get as far away as possible before anyone came after her. As she pushed her family from her mind, she quickly began to think of Xilivicus. Yes, she could run away… run back to the Imperial City and find the Oblivion gate so—no. Her mind wasn't working properly. Going back to Oblivion would be like walking into the mouth of the beast. She needed to find Xilivicus; yet, she needed to stay as far away from Broga as she could.

She rounded the corner near the old Benirus Manor and her shifty eyes lifted to the grand steeples of Dibella. Her heart swirled with detestation as she ran to the temple. With one bound she leapt up the ancient worn stairs and wrapped her petite pale hands around the gargantuan brass handles. She ripped them back and stormed in with reddened cheeks. She sniffled as she walked down the aisle towards the altar. Her hands curled into trembling fists and as she approached the altar with narrowed eyes. Her teeth gnashed together as more tears rolled down her pinked cheeks. Her fists slammed down upon the limestone and she bellowed, "Where are you Dibella when I need you?! He said you'd be there for us! That's what the pendant meant, didn't it? It was a vow for protection and comfort, wasn't it?" Her fists trembled and she closed her eyes tightly as she repeatedly crashed her quivering fists onto the altar causing it to begin to crack. Tears poured and she whimpered, "Help us… p-please help us…"

Her weakening body slid down the altar and she kneeled near its base. Her knuckles had torn and blood now seeped through her broken skin and fell upon the altar; calling for the goddess to come and safe her from this Hell. Her body quivered as she sobbed heavily. Her world was beginning to fall down in ruins. Just like how Kvatch had fallen into ruins. The truth was a wave tossed into an ever darkening ocean. Her life began to fade like a vapor in the wind.

The Chapel door slowly crept open with a long echoing sound. Elizabeth's eyes rose and she clenched her teeth tightly together with a snarl, "Leave me, Jerald."

Bromus slowly stepped near her with saddened eyes, "Miss Asquerana…"

The High Elf spun around with teary eyes. Her tongue flickered over her dried cracking lips and she looked up at her butler. Flashes of her childhood invaded her head as she could see times when she and her father had yelled at each other and she ran off and hid in the garden behind their house. Bromus would quickly find her and take her into his arms making her feel security… and a fatherly protection. The Nord kneeled down and wrapped his arms tightly around her allowing her to sob into his chest. Her shivering fingertips gripped into his vest as she tried to explain to him, but he quickly hushed her and whispered, "Milady… there is no need to explain."

Elizabeth pulled away slightly and looked at him, "B-But… I love a-"

Bromus chuckled and said, "I know what you love, Elizabeth. I… I just wish that Lord Asquerana would have been so much kinder than that. I'm so sorry about him; he hasn't been the same since this crisis began."

The Elf shook her head and growled, "Don't apologize on his account. He isn't worthy for forgiveness."

Bromus furrowed his brow and sighed, "Don't be that way, milady. He's your father."

"He's denied me since my birth. I am an abomination to him." She hissed while tossing her eyes over to the other altars of the Nine.

"He's just… biased." The butler said cagily. "He's been stubborn all his life and… for you to defy him- heh, I suppose he just likes the power over everyone else. Once he cools off and we all come to an understanding then I bet you that everything will go back to normal. Now come along, let's get you back to the tavern and-"

"-I'm not going," she interjected. "I will not return to that vile place."

"Then where will you go?" Bromus scoffed. "All you have is here in Anvil!"

"I will find another life," Elizabeth wiped her eyes with a sniffle. "I don't care if I see any of them ever again."

The Nord narrowed his eyes and shook his head, "Just because your father is a rather cruel man and your mother is distant does not mean that you may label your entire family as hateful. Caldwyn, Orrick, and Daelon love you very much. The twins might not show it as much. But Daelon was the first to come after you, yet Jerald held him back. I'm sure that Daelon is trying to get your necklace out of the fireplace this instant."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and shook her head, "… but… how can I return there? It shall be entirely awkward between all of us now that they know the truth about…" she strayed and thought to herself.

Bromus shrugged and said, "I don't know how they'll react. Damn, I don't know how the world would react." He smiled weakly and looked upon her with curious eyes. He coughed and then questioned, "… he must be really amazing if you have fallen in love with him."

The Elf smiled and bowed her head, "… he put his life on the line to ensure my safety. He gave me clothing when I was cold and food when I was hungry. He kept me out of harm in the Imperial City and gave me that necklace…" her eyes searched the ground as she felt her throat tighten. Her eyes began watering again and she smiled brighter as the tears rolled down, "… he gave it to me… before he went out to fight to keep… m-me alive." She shook her head frantically and looked up at Bromus, "He's not evil, Bromus. I can promise you that. He praises the goddesses. _Our_ goddesses… Mara and Dibella. He _met _them in his past. Please, let me leave Anvil."

Bromus bowed his head and sighed profoundly, "… go to the Count's Arms and tell this to Caldwyn, Orrick, and Daelon. I would never let you leave unless you said goodbye to your brothers, first."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly and wrapped her arms around Bromus. They embraced tightly and softly she whispered, "I love you, Bromus."

The old butler grinned feeling his heart swell. "I love you too, Elizabeth."

-+-

The troops stood before the massive Oblivion gate whose Hellfire swirled like a hurricane in the ocean. Their weapons sheathed tightly in their scabbards. Their steadfast eyes were awaiting for orders. Broga stood before them wrapped in the darkest of leathers. A dark burgundy cloth wrapped around his chest and up over his head making a hood. His eyes shone from the cover and he boomed with his strident voice which made the thunder in the heavens cower before him, "Prepare, my minions! You shall all be sent to the Oblivion gates all over Tamerial! The great warrior shall come before you and with all the power from your blackened souls destroy him! Return with his heart or do not return at all! Now, go!" He spreads his arms out and the armies marched forward.

Mages stood before the quadrants with their staffs strapped to their backs. With their darkest of magic they had summoned petite portals that the armies would march into to get to their gates. From there, the Hero would be alerted of Oblivion gates and he would be far too busy to worry about Anvil. Broga watched with a smirk as all the Daedra disappeared through the portals. He turned around to the Anvil gate and advanced forward. A nearby mage looked at the Anvil portal with cagy eyes. He soon looked to Broga and questioned, "Are you sure you wish to go alone, sir?"

Broga glanced sideways and replied, "If I take a troop with me than there shall be a higher chance that we shall be seen. If only I go, than I shall be as silent as a shadow."

The Mage bowed and said, "As you say, sir."

The Commander turned back to the portal and walked through it soon disappearing from the Oblivion plane and arriving upon the Anvil soil.

Faraway, many miles from Anvil near a Daedric shrine, three women kneeled in front of a shrine for their nightly devotions. Rona, a Redguard woman, lit the candles upon the shrine to illuminate their Daedric Prince. Just as they kneeled to worship; there was a clamor in the bushes behind them. Rona's eyes widened and she quickly pushed herself up onto her feet. Her tan hand wrapped around the hilt of a dagger as she called out to the intruder, "Hello? Whose there?"

A massive black and crimson spider-like body crawled from the undergrowth. The three Cyrodiilic women stood in awe as a Spider Daedra walked calmly before them. Her silver eyes narrowed tiredly as she approached the primeval memorial. The three women quickly moved from her way as she stopped in front of the shrine, within her hands a small crimson wrapped item. What the cloth was wrapped about, the worshippers did not know. The Daedra turned her head and purred gently, "Will you please give me a moment of privacy?"

The women bowed before their superior. Their voices trembling and hearts racing in their chests as a true follower of Mephala stood before them! They rushed off into the darkness allowing the Daedra to be at the shrine completely alone. The Spider Daedra's soft gentle hands unwrapped the cloth and her eyes gazed down upon the Nightshade. She lifted it and placed it upon the shrine with vigilant hands. A hissing voice surrounded the shrine and the Daedric Prince, Mephala, called out to its loyal follower, "… how long has it been since we have spoken, Velthada? Surely what has seemed like eons."

The Daedra bowed her head allowing some silver strands of hair to fall into her face, "I have fully infiltrated Mehrunes Dagon's plane, my prince. Your plans are working according to plan."

There was a dark chuckle and the echoing voice questioned, "… and where is the mortal?"

"Alive… and residing in Anvil." Velthada's glimmering eyes lifted up to the shrine. "It… it seems we may have a small dilemma, my liege."

The voice growled and snarled lightly, "And what is that, my follower?"

"It… it seems that the Commander of Kvatch's Oblivion gate has… fallen in love with the mortal as well." She said hesitantly.

Mephala chuckled and Velthada was surprised to hear the Prince so thrilled about this. "My, my, my!" The Daedric Prince cried out, "What a web we have weaved, Velthada! This certain affair highly intrigues me! Far much more amusing than that Bleaker's Way matter that a follower of mine had done for me."

Velthada bowed lowly and called up to her Lord, "I am pleased that you are so delighted by this, my Prince. What shall I do for you now?"

"So persistent! I am satisfied with that as well. Go forth, summon my brothers and sisters. I believe that I may need their abilities in this matter."

"As you say," Velthada bowed and quickly lifted her hand. A black orb appeared in her palm and slowly encased her body. The black cyclone engulfed her and the Spider Daedra disappeared wholly.

-+-

A guard walked across the pathway over the walls of Anvil. His eyes closing slightly as weariness loomed over him and he wished nothing more than to return to the barracks and to sleep. Suddenly, a soft clinking noise was heard from the darkness. The guard froze in his spot and glanced off into the wilderness. His eyes strained as he could hardly see anything. The moon was murdered in the sky by black storm clouds and everything seemed dead. The guard shook his head and quickly took off of his belt a virgin torch. As he pulled it from its package, the rough wrap struck upon the torch and lit it. The guard held the torch up and just as he did he saw a Dremora crouching on the ledge of the wall with narrowed crimson eyes.

Broga sneered as his hand thrusted through the air and snatched the guardsman by the throat. The guard's grip came loose and the torch fell to the floor as Broga stepped off the ledge and loomed over the man like a fortress. He lifted him a few feet into the air bringing him to his eyelevel. The guard's pupils disappeared in a sea of brown and as he struggled to call out for help, Broga curled and twisted his hand. There was a loud and sickening snap and the Anvil guard became lifeless. The Commander looked over the ledge and tossed the body over the wall watching it plummet into the darkness. Broga shoved his foot over the torch, stomping out the flame.

Smoke rose through the air and the Dremora looked out over the entire town of Anvil. The breeze blew across his face causing him to feel coldness for the first time in quite some time. There were many houses surrounding the area. Broga's eyes fell over every one of these homes and his heart began to worry if he would ever find the girl before sunrise. His hands grasped onto the ledge as he leaned over and examined the city. His long black fingernails were tapping across the worn limestone. He heard footsteps and his head jerked up to see a guard stalking his way. He snarled and quickly glanced over the ledge to see that he before him was a mermaid statue.

He backed up slightly and soon as he ran up and onto the ledge he bounded off and landed upon the mermaid; noiselessly. He tossed his gaze behind him and he watched the guardsman walk by, completely oblivious to the fact that there was a Dremora in the city. The man smirked as he slid down the mermaid and leapt onto the hard soil. His eyes lifted and he glimpsed around seeing that the closest thing was a grungy manor. The commander looked around a bit more to see the Mage's Guild and the Fighter's guild far across the street barely visible in the streetlights.

The bells of the chapel tolled midnight and Broga's head swiveled over to see the looming steeples of the chapel that reached into the heavens and broke through the black clouds. The Dremora remembered when the Kvatch chapel had been demolished almost fully to ruins. His soul sang and he started towards the manor.

From the back, there was a rugged barrel which Broga raised himself up on. The Dremora leapt onto the roof of the manor, he then climbed further up until he was shrouded in shadows. He crouched upon the roof and watched as a guard walked around the corner and headed to the chapel. Broga lifted himself and stared at the house across the way. A moderately extreme bound; however, the Dremora knew he could accomplish it. He prepared himself and as he ran to the edge of the manor he propelled his body through the air soon flying over onto the roof with such stealth he appeared as only a ghost. His feet slammed onto the roof and he nearly fell back.

His heart pounded and he fell forward onto his knees with a bottomless sigh. His eyes rose and as he lifted himself to his feet he knew he had to travel to every portion of the city to find the maiden being as stealthy as possible.

-+-

Caldwyn bit into his tongue while a droplet of apprehensive sweat rolled down his forehead. "… Got it now?"

Orrick rolled his eyes as he prodded the hot poker around in the fireplace, lifting and pushing aside pieces of logs. "I'll tell you when I find it, brother! So shut up!"

The twins searched the fireplace thoroughly for their sister's necklace. Their father had resigned to his room; irritably. Caldwyn leaned over his brother's shoulder literally breathing down his neck. Daelon watched a few feet away sitting in a chair with his fingers entwined. His amber eyes gleamed with malice and irritation. How could his father strike her?! His muscles tensed as he watched; apprehensively. Caldwyn blinked rapidly and questioned, "…well?"

Orrick snarled and shoved his brother back, "Do you want me to use this poker on you?! Leave me to do my business!"

Caldwyn fell upon his rear with a glare. Daelon rolled his eyes and murmured, "It's useless, Orrick. The gold has probably melted by now… there's no use in-"

"Found it!" He cried out soon sliding the necklace over the poker and lifting it from the swirling flames. He pulled it out and tossed it upon the brick hearth with a grin.

Caldwyn and Daelon both leapt forward at the hearth to look upon what remained of the necklace. Their eyes widened as they saw that the necklace appeared as if nothing happened to it at all. Caldwyn inched his hand forward and just as Orrick was to scold him for trying to touch the hot gold, Orrick picked the necklace up with a furrowed brow. Daelon's eyes widened even further as he wheezed, "Is… Is it hot?"

Orrick shook his head and muttered, "It's… cold."

Caldwyn jerked the necklace from his brother's hands, "Give me that!" He held it tightly and slowly his muscles relaxed and he looked upon the necklace with a mesmerized gaze, "… he… he's right."

Daelon leaned over and picked up the necklace feeling the cool gold against his skin. His heart fluttered in his chest as he furrowed his brow, "What sort of gold is this?"

"Divine Gold," came a groggy voice from the staircase.

The three brothers swirled around to see Jerald standing at the stairs with narrowed eyes. His once slicked back hair was now a grey fallen mess. His once vibrant blue eyes now seemed as dull as pebbles. Jerald walked over and easily took the necklace from the stunned Daelon. He lifted it up and examined it a little further. Caldwyn furrowed his brow and inquired, "Is it rare?"

Jerald continued to keep his eyes upon the necklace; nonetheless, he answered simply, "It was thought to not even exist… it was what made the golden section of the Amulet of Kings. Forged directly by the gods and goddesses and given to a select human. How would a…" he faded off.

Daelon stood and leaned close, giving the necklace a good look. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly and said, "That's Mara's Rope!"

Orrick and Caldwyn stood as well and leaned close. "Yeah, and that's Dibella's Flower!" They chimed.

Jerald narrowed his eyes with drawn lips. His hand closed on the necklace and he bowed his head reluctantly. Daelon grinned and questioned, "Does that mean that the Daedra is actually good?"

The High Elf Lord raised his gaze and snapped, "Or that he's a _thief_."

Caldwyn groaned and said, "Father… why won't you believe that the Daedra Elizabeth fell in love with is good?"

Orrick nodded and added, "Why is it so bad anyway?"

Jerald's eyes lit up and he laughed softly, "Why is it _bad_? Am I the only one sees that Daedra are evil and cruel beings?! They destroyed Kvatch and nearly everyone who lived there! They killed your friends! They killed your mentors and monks!"

"But this Daedra we speak of gave _his_ life for Elizabeth! Father, I truly think that he loves her." Daelon argued.

Jerald shook his head and spat, "Preposterous."

Upon the roof of the Count's Arms was a dark figure who listened intently for the window near the front door was cracked open for a cool night's breeze. Broga listened intently with wide eyes. Daelon shook his head and said, "Stop being selfish, father!"

"Selfish?" Jerald questioned with a flame of anger, "How am I being selfish?!"

" Elizabeth is in love with a Daedra. It appears that Caldwyn, Orrick and I are completely fine with it! Mother doesn't mind much either from what I tell! You're the only one here that is afraid it will ruin your royal façade! You question how it will affect your popularity and how people see you. Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about your daughter! You _struck _her! And now she has run off and only Gods know where! Hopefully Bromus has had some luck in finding her!"

Jerald shook his head and muttered, "… she's at the chapel."

Orrick furrowed his brow and asked, "How do you know that?"

The father looked up with distressed eyes, "… when she was little… and… we fought like this. She would run out of the house and I would follow after her. Each time she would run into the chapel and run to the prior boy, Martin, so someone would comfort her. She found reassurance… sitting in a pew at the chapel. I always followed silently so I wouldn't anger her." He laughed softly and his eyes became watery, "… she thinks I have never been there in her life," holds the necklace tightly and whispers, "… I've just been hidden in the shadows the whole time."

Daelon furrowed his brow as his sympathy began to come back to his father. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his father, hugging him tightly. Jerald grabbed onto his son and leaned his weeping head onto his son's shoulder. Caldwyn and Orrick bowed their heads in sadness.

Broga grinned and he lifted his eyes to the chapel with a grin. This was going to be easier than he thought.

-+-

How could he?

He wasn't going to get away with it.

Dagon would figure it out and force Broga into a cage with him.

Xilivicus' piercing eyes broke through the cage doors. His quivering hands already bloodied from attempting to escape. There was no use of trying to fight it. Broga would bring Elizabeth down here to him just to boast. He'd let them touch and talk but then the Master Slaver would pull her away and make sure that the Churl could hear her screaming. Xilivicus' veins pulsed with hatred as he gripped the bars. His jagged teeth ripping into his lower lip. Never before had he felt such malice and power pumped through his blackened veins… worthlessness soon following. He promised to her that he would protect her from everything. His lips trembled as he wanted to cry out. How could he protect her? Xilivicus roared and turned around facing the back of his cell. He walked to it and placed his hands on it.

The mocking voices were finally breaking down his walls and overwhelming him. His jagged nails ripped into the wall and with all the frustration he slammed his fists into the wall and watched the wall crumble and fall apart. Just as he was to fall upon his knees in desperation, there was a call behind him.

His eyes widened as it was a female who called to him. He turned rapidly around to see a Spider Daedra standing before his cage. Her appearance was calm and inviting. Her hands entwined before her as she questioned, "Do you want to be free, my brother?"

He narrowed his eyes and spat, "What does it matter to you?"

Velthada raised her right hand and exposed the intricate black lockpick whose parts seemed made of metal surely nothing Cyrodiilic, but Daedric. "Come forth and take this Skeleton key. Use it to free yourself and with it you also free the Elven maiden of her terrible fate."

Xilivicus' eyes widened and he rushed forward to the bars, " Elizabeth… what has happened to Elizabeth?!"

The Spider Daedra reached her pale hand inside the cage and handed him the Skeleton Key. Her black fingernails brushed across the Churl's face lightly and she whispered, "You don't have much time, my brother. The gate outside the prison is the gate to the realm of which you wish to be."

The Churl looked at the lockpick than tossed his eyes back up, "Thank you."

The Spider Daedra turned and quickly crawled away down the hall leaving the Churl to himself.

-+-

Before Bromus and Elizabeth could even leave the Chapel, the Nord lead her down into the chapel to find some bondages for her hands. The Elf sat down as her butler bundled up her hands with tan linen cloths, soon tying them at her wrists. She smiled up at him and said, "Could you… call my brothers to meet me here. I would feel so much better if I didn't have to return to that place."

The Nord grinned and nodded, "Of course, my lady. Wait for them in the front pew. Will you be alright alone?" He questioned.

She nodded sweetly and smiled, "I'll be fine."

The two of them walked back into the chapel and as they reached the main area they embraced and Bromus quickly left for the Count's Arms. Elizabeth grinned and quietly she stepped near the Altar. She saw traces of her blood on the altar and a frown came across her face. How could she be so violent towards Dibella's altar?! The maiden kneeled down and put her hands upon the altar; engaging herself in prayer. Her eyes opened for merely a moment and she looked down into the small puddle of her blood. In it, was a gleam of light. Her eyes were about to move away if not had movement caught her eye. She froze and within the collected droplets of blood she saw something hunched over and watching her in the rafters of the chapel. Elizabeth's heart raced and she continued to watch this figure. Its body was massive! She had never see anything quite so-

She stopped.

Her fingers twitched as she watched this appalling form. Surely… it couldn't be! Her heart pounded even faster as she bit into her lips and knew that at once she needed to get out of there. Without further ado she leapt up and sprinted to the chapel doors. The figure leapt off the rafters and landed upon the chapel floor; like a ghost. Just as Elizabeth seized the doors, a hand grabbed a hold of the back of her dress and she gasped nearly falling back. She turned and with one glance all she could see were crimson eyes. She gasped and ripped her body forward soon ripping the back of her dress, exposing nearly most of her pale back. She threw open the chapel doors and ran out into the shadowy wild night with one of her worst enemies at her heels; hunting her down like a runaway slave.

**_--TBC-- _**

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**_My computer is really crapping out on me and I can't update stories normally so I had to go a different route. I hope it didn't screw up anything. R&R! Hope you enjoyed._**


	16. A Redemption in Vain

_**Once again, thank you guys ever so much for the reviews. I really appreciate people who encourage me and also the people who tell me what can make my story even better. Thanks again guys, and I hope you enjoy. (Although I know most of you will be angered at this next chapter)

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_**-+-**_

The storm broke through the heavens and murdered any hopeful silver gleam of moonlight. The clouds fought within the darkened sky. The clouds' bodies clashing causing strident thunder and flashes of lightning to fall down and strike the earth. Rain seeped through the cracks of the sky and fell like nails upon Anvil. The guards could hardly see before them and quickly retreated to a haven until the storm had passed. It had been a silent and righteous night. Surely nothing too threatening would happen to the city.

How wrong they were.

Elizabeth sprinted down the damp cobblestone. The rain pierced her shoulders and felt like ice falling down upon her. Her body began to freeze and she could hardly feel her legs propelling her forward and away from the monster who quickly followed. Her eyes were wide and shone like a lighthouse. Her heart was the only thing that she could feel. It grew heavier which each step. Her feet slipped on the cobblestone and she quickly fell backwards and to a side. As she hit the ground she could feel her hip throb. She winced and her long silver hair clung onto her face with fear. She glanced behind her and all she saw was a black and grey haze.

What if that person was merely a Dark Elf? Yes… that was reasonable. Her shivering fingertips shoved the drenched locks of silver from her pale face as she looked behind her. Quickly, she had lifted herself and stood. Her body pushed and pulled with the gusting winds. She turned and quickly she began walking past the second dock that led out into the rippling pond on the north east side of Anvil. Just as Elizabeth began to walk past the pier she saw a sleek black figure from the corner of her eyes, it looked like it was upon the Fighter's Guild roof.

The water blurred her eyes and she surely thought it was just a delusion. The girl began walking across the sidewalk and when she took her next step, out of the blue, a gigantic ebony haze bounded off the fighter's guild roof and as it collided with the ground, which happened to be a foot from the maiden, it sprung right back up like a tightly bounded coil. It tackled Elizabeth into the air and soon her pale snow white body and the giant black haze appeared to be a yin-yang rolling down the damp verdant mound into the bitter grey embrace of the pond.

Elizabeth was shoved under the water and quickly her heart began to race. Water flooded inside her mouth and she screamed in fear as the phantom holding her down was utterly unmovable. His weight was causing her to be submerged in the soft sludge. Her hands reached from the watery graves and grasped onto the black monster. Its skin felt smooth like the blunt side of a sword's blade, yet firm and rigid like a boulder.

The girl clenched her teeth shut and with her last bit of strength she thrashed her body around and flipped the shadow over soon sending it hurtling into the pond. Water flew up in an artistic manner. Raindrops and pond water clashed in the air and soon fell back to the earth. The shadow and Elf wrestled in the water, swirling about and attempting to hold one another down. Just as the girl was to get a look, water rushed into her eyes and she was blinded momentarily.

Suddenly, from the waters she was lifted and her back was shoved harshly onto the base of the mermaid statuette. The breathe rushed from her lungs and she nearly choked on the water that was in her mouth at the time. The rain poured down like mad upon them and her silver dirtied hair pressed tightly across the form of her body. Her eyes ripped open and the phantom figure was as dark as could be. Unexpectedly, lightning streaked across the sky soon illuminating Anvil and causing the phantom's face to lighten like a prairie exposed to sunlight. Elizabeth felt herself fall out of her body as she saw the grand Master Slaver looming over her. His revered physique was completely noticeable in the heaven-light. His black and crimson hair was falling from the drenched hood that he wore upon his head. Those piercing crimson eyes locked down upon her as his hands grasped her tightly and held her onto the statuette.

Elizabeth's mouth fell agape and she wheezed, "B-Broga…"

He chuckled and leaned farther down so she could hear him over the wailing wind and the quarrelling rain. "So you remember me… I surely thought that after such a long time you would have forgotten all about Oblivion."

The maiden glanced around desperately hoping to catch the disappearing watery figure of a guard or possibly a beggar. Anvil seemed absolutely dead, and this is what the girl had feared. She thrashed about and made an effort to slacken his grip; however, it seemed like he had a good hold on her. Anger boiled within her and she snapped, "Let me go!"

He laughed and watched her futile attempt. How pitiful. His hands gripped tighter and he could feel the bones hidden beneath her skin. Her teeth clashed even tighter together and her brow furrowed as she could only watch this man attempt to shatter her bones. She squirmed and quickly blurted, "What do you want from me?!"

His hands loosened and he looked her over. Her ample eyes stared at him and hungered a response. He could feel her heart block itself every time he was near; protecting her soul. His lips pursed and he scoffed, "Why would I be here? Why would I be holding you back right now," his right hand released from her arm and lifted up to stroke back drenched silver strands of hair.

She cringed at his touch and turned her head away with a hardening glare. Her body was freezing in the wintry breeze and heaven's falling teardrops. The Daedric man clenched his jaw and all of a sudden he had remembered that he hadn't much time. Surely the guards or another mindless traveler would find the guard's dead body and report it. He needed to get out of Anvil as quickly as possible. He tossed his eyes around evasively making certain that no guards were coming. The wind and rain acting as a personal black cloak that he slithered through like a serpent.

His eyes turned back to the maiden and he spun her around soon pushing her into the base of the statue. His jagged nails ripped a piece of cloth from his wrapped wrist and he pulled off the dark leather like a second layer of skin. He quickly bounded the girl's hands causing her to gasp slightly as the skin of her wrists was pulled and pushed down harshly. Broga's nostrils flared as he knotted the textile tightly being assured it would be fall apart. As he spun her around his bloody eyes fell upon her and he snarled, "Let's go."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and reluctantly pushed herself upon the statue. She was going to make this as hard as possible. Broga's muscles tensed and he bore his teeth at her in frustration. He crouched in the water and suddenly the maiden was lifted easily from the water and thrown over his shoulder with certain care. He made sure that her skin would not be pierced with his jagged ebon horns. Just as he was about to climb from the watery pit, he heard the screaming of an Anvil resident. The Dremora's ears perked and he listened as the calls were made from over the howling of the wind.

"Oblivion gate! There's an Oblivion gate outside Anvil!" screamed the Dunmer.

A guard rushed over to the man and tried to calm him down. The raging Dunmer continued to scream trying to run past the guard; however, this attempt was to no prevail. "Calm down, sir! What's this about a gate?"

The Dunmer grasped at his chainmail and boomed, "Did you not hear me?! There's an Oblivion Gate right outside of Anvil! We're next, I tell you! First Kvatch, now Lord Dagon wants Anvil!"

A few more guards entered the streets. They conversed beneath the wind's howls and quickly they ran off in different directions to alert the guards and countess in the Castle and to make sure that the doors were well guarded. Broga cursed and ducked lower into the water. His chances of being spotted were increasing and his mind began to revolve like clockwork. He glanced to the Benirus manor. If he could somehow sneak behind it and make it to the Chapel gate, he was certain that he could make his way around Anvil and back to his gate. He hauled the girl and himself out of the water with her struggling violently upon his shoulder. Broken limbs or deep slashes might be the result of one scream to the guards.

Elizabeth's heart pounded as she struggled even more knowing her chances of survival were better outside Anvil than within.

-+-

The Harbor Gate was bombarded by guard's shoulders as they quickly ran from the city and unto the rotting and damp docks of the harbor. Just as the door was to swing close, tangerine eyes appeared from the blackness and soon a sleek figure slithered into Anvil, disappearing behind the houses. The figure dashed through the raindrops trying to get somewhere. Just as Xilivicus was about to pass the next part of a house, he saw a door open and light gleamed and turned the raindrops to gold. The man stopped suddenly, his feet burrowing into the damp ground. The Churl nearly fell face first as he tried to remain hidden. His eyes widened as he saw a man walk outside and toss collected rain water out of a bucket onto the lawn. The old man turned and said back into the home, "… I do hope old Bromus had luck finding Elizabeth."

The Churl's ears perked at her name and he drew closer like a moth to a flame. The owner of the tavern closed the door but the harsh wind propped it open slightly. As the Dremora grew closer he heard more voices. Within the tavern, Daelon sat near the fire with bothered amber eyes. He bowed his head and ran his fingertips through his hair as he replied to the owner's comment, "It has been so long. Surely he has found her by now."

Caldwyn fumbled around with a piece of leek sitting on a table. His eyes were tossed up and he said, "We should look for her. The more the people the more the chance of finding her."

Jerald shook his head and said, "It's very late and with the Oblivion crisis it's still dangerous out on a night like this. If there is no news by tomorrow morning than we shall head off in search for her."

Xilivicus' eyes widened and he leaned closer to the door letting the golden light his left tangerine eye causing it to illuminate. The front door to the Count's Arms propped open and a few drenched weary guards sauntered in. Their shoulders drooped and they looked up with dreary eyes. "Jerald Asquerana?" They called out.

The High Elf Lord lifted his head with a faltering heart. "… That is I."

The guards walked over and removed their helmets from their dampened brows. "We have reason to believe that… your family might be in immediate danger." The residents of the tavern grew very silent as their attention turned to the guards whose lips sheltered the word of death. "An Oblivion gate has been spotted outside Anvil… your daughter… they say she was a captive in the planes of Oblivion. Is there a chance they might have returned for her?"

Jerald's worn and tired eyes shimmered in sadness and he stood from the battered chair soon ushering the guards into a concealed room to converse for surely he did not want to subject his sons to this matter. Daelon furrowed his brow as his anxiety grew larger and weighed down upon his shoulders even more. Caldwyn sighed deeply and bowed his head, "Talos be with us."

Orrick lifted his eyes and groaned, "My, what a world we live in."

Xilivicus stepped back from the door with a furrowed brow. Rain ran down his body completely encasing him in a second skin. His purple skin appeared as black on this darkened night. He turned away and knew that he needed to find Elizabeth. Her life was in danger, he was certain of that, and if Broga was searching the city as well, her life was farther into peril. But how precisely would he find—

"Hello?" a voice called out behind the Churl.

Xilivicus spun around his eyes wide as he saw Daelon standing at the door staring at him.

-+-

The guards rushed out the Chapelgate pushing the doors widely open. The coast was clear and the black Dremora sped out with the maiden still hunched over his back. He grasped onto her legs tightly with narrowed eyes. He sprinted through a shallow section of water soon dashing up a hill leading off into the wilderness. To assure his chances of arriving back in Oblivion safely, he needed to approach the portal from the back. This would allow the Dremora to keep out of the guard's way. The rain poured even heavier down upon his ripped burly body. His muscles tensed as he pulled his weight and the maiden's weight up over a small hill.

The screams of the maiden carried off over the wails of the roaring wind, "Put me down you barbaric fool! I demand to be put down at once!"

Broga's eyes had strained into the night as he attempted to plan out a route back to the Oblivion gate. He stopped in the middle of the wood with a furrowed brow. The complaints of the maiden fueled his anger and in a few moments he snarled and tossed to her to the damp cold floor. Her body crashed into the long grass and she gasped as the rain ran up her nostrils. She glared up at him seeing his looming figure standing over her. The lightning lit the sky and allowed her to see the details of his face. The Commander clashed his teeth together with a snarl, "Shut the hell up, you ghastly girl!"

Elizabeth stared up at him, her eyes narrowing with a burning hatred that not even the rain could distinguish. "How dare you demand silence of me! You are no Master of mine!"

He smirked and chuckled crazily soon leaning over and placing his hands upon his knees. His jagged crooked grin sent chills all along the girl's spine. The Dremora then informed her, "Do you have any idea why it was I who came and got you, hmm? I am not the most skilled of Daedra and clearly not the most timid or sneaky either. I chose to come for you, Elizabeth Asquerana, and do you have any idea why I—Broga Dremora Axeax—would _ever_ want to come into Tamerial to find one pathetic little girl and bring her back to Lord Dagon?" His smile faded and he boomed out over the howling of the wind causing even the unruly lightning to fall before him in fear. "BECAUSE I OWN YOU!"

Elizabeth's eyes glazed over with confusion and utter horrification. Her lips fell agape and she snarled, "What… b-but… how?"

Broga laughed as his last nerves began to break. His mind unraveled and his conscious logical self had gone astray in a sea of frustration, stress, and lunacy. "Dagon has sworn you to me, scholar! After you tell him everything that he needs to know you shall become mine. Your body forfeit to my needs, your strength used for the errands I disperse to you, your talents used to amuse me. Don't fret, my dear, I won't be completely ruthless upon you." He smiled. That smile petrified her as she could imagine the life that was planned out before her. She came back to reality when she could feel his long jagged black nails caress past her cheek. She glanced to his hand and heard him hiss, "But do expect to feel pain."

"You sick bastard," she sneered.

The Commander chuckled and just as he was to force her back upon her feet his back muscles rolled and sent a tingle along his spine. His jagged ears perked and his senses seemed flustered. Suddenly, he heard a small twang and the Dremora swirled around and in a blink of an eye he had caught the stealthy iron arrow in midair. Elizabeth gasped in shock as he displayed such skills. The Commander narrowed his eyes and slowly he looked up into a tree. There hidden among the branches was an Imperial Forester. His black eyes widened in fear as he saw that his arrow, which normally struck true, had not harmed this Dremora!

Broga scowled and stood before the girl, lowering himself into a hunched pose. Ready for an attack or a quick retreat if needed. His black sturdy claws held at his sides to shield the girl from the forester. Was he protecting her? Elizabeth's eyes widened as she could hardly see through the streaked rain. The Imperial leapt from the treetops and in midair he had swung the bow upon his back and unleashed a silver dagger from his belt, gripping it in a hand. The Dremora crouched and just as the Imperial neared he jounced his legs and leapt into the air swiftly soon tackling the forester back and away from the maiden.

The Elf's eyes widened and she pushed herself up onto her frozen damp legs. She couldn't merely stand by and watch this man die! She needed to help! But she had no weapon and no magic that could make it through the stormy atmosphere. Just as she was to run forward, she had heard the forester boom over the screaming storm, "Run! Get away from here!"

Broga lifted the man into the air and tossed him a few yards away. His massive figure swiveled around and he snarled with barred jagged fangs, "Move and face the consequences, Altmer!"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and felt the power building within her. As the Princess she portrayed she was to obey the greater force, in this situation it was Broga. But as a free Altmer, she obeyed herself and her gods. The maiden shook her head and yelled, "You don't own me." With that, she turned and sprinted away.

The Dremora's eyes widened and the crimson became a fiery inferno that turned the frozen water droplets to steam. His body tensed and just as he was to run after her the Imperial man leapt upon his back digging the dagger deep into his middle back. The Commander howled and lifted his arms over his head soon grasping onto the Imperial's head. He tore him from his back and launched him into a tree. The man's body collided harshly and became lifeless for one moment. The Commander stormed forward soon ripping the lodged dagger from his back. The blood on the tip disappeared in the rain. The Dremora spun the dagger between his fingers with a glare, soon cooing, "You freed her, sir. Now what shall become of you?"

The forester spat out a glob of blood, soon wiping his lips. His tangled black hair falling into his face as he snarled, "The safety of the citizens of Tamerial is more important to me than my life."

Broga grinned and hunched over and with a cooing voice he purred, "Ah, how noble of you." With his unoccupied hand he grasped the Imperial by the throat and lifted him up the tree with ease. The man lifted a few feet from the ground with wide eyes as he saw Broga spin the dagger a few more times. The Dremora then took the dagger and placed it upon the Imperial's skin. The dagger acted as a paintbrush, and the canvas was the white skin of the forester. Broga's nostrils twitched as he carved fast designs into the man's skin. Blood was pouring out over his hand and trickling down to the woodland floor. The forester cringed with each piercing. His yells piercing the heavens and causing the thunder to answer back to his tortured calls. Broga grinned as he looked upon the crimson tattoos that bled. The Imperial was falling in and out of consciousness. The Dremora chuckled and nodded while glancing to the dagger, "I suppose… you would like you knife back now." He spun the dagger and suddenly he gripped the hilt and slammed the blade through the Imperial's head; lodging it deep inside brain matter and skull.

Broga released the man and watched him fall to the soil; lifeless. The Dremora turned and glared off in the direction that Elizabeth went. Her smell was faint in the air and began to vanish. He snarled and quickly sprinted after her. He was too close to be letting her escape now. He would capture his runaway slave, oh yes. He would.

-+-

Daelon's eyes sparkled as he saw this magnificent creature, for he had always wondered what a Dremora had looked like. His mind screamed for him to call the guards; yet, there was something awkwardly memorable about this Churl. Xilivicus narrowed his eyes as he could feel his muscles tense and his build bulk up as if he wished to frighten away this Altmer. Daelon slinked forward and just as his foot stepped down upon the soil, the Churl had disappeared in a haze of black. Daelon's eyes widened as he watched the Churl vanish around the corner of the Inn.

"Wait!" cried Daelon who soon sprinted off into the storm. "Wait! Please! I need your help!"

Xilivicus sprinted across the cobblestone street, hardly giving a glance anywhere else. The rain pushed him back as if allowing Daelon to catch up. The Altmer ran across the street; continuing to scream for the Dremora to come to a halt. Daelon's black hair fell from its bounding and coiled down around his face like springs. His brow furrowed and he ran even quicker. The Dremora leapt upon a fence soon bounding off and landing upon the abandoned shack's roof. He collided with the shingles in a catlike pose, he lifted himself and just as he was about to turn and leap onto the house of Silgor Brodus—

"Elizabeth!" screamed Daelon as he watched the fallen angel about to make his great escape from Anvil.

Xilivicus froze and his eyes fell down to Daelon. His brow furrowed and he snarled over the wind, "What did you say?"

Daelon blinked furiously as he had gotten this Dremora to speak! The Altmer pushed his jet black hair from his face as he called out, "My sister is Elizabeth Asquerana! She was the... the prisoner from Kvatch! Is that why you are here?! Do you wish to take her from us yet again?!"

Xilivicus stepped easily from the roof and as he plummeted to the ground he landed gracefully in front of Daelon. His tangerine eyes on fire as if they were struck by lightning. Daelon's muscles contracted and he wondered if it was safe for him to be out here with this Dremora? The Dremora stared at Daelon with wide alerted eyes. He shook his head and said, "I'm here to protect her. Surely you wouldn't understand this just like her father who-"

"Xilivicus," Daelon interrupted with wide eyes. "You're Xilivicus aren't you? Elizabeth spoke of you. Yes… you're him," he nodded and called out, "She said you were her friend from Oblivion."

The Churl's heart cringed at that word. _Friend_. Was he only that to her now? Was his absence a way to free her from adoring him? His eyes narrowed and he hissed, "Tell me, where is she?! I need to find her! She is in grave danger!"

Daelon shook his head and called back over the raging storm, "No one knows! Our butler had gone out looking for her… but that seemed like eons ago. What could have happened?"

Xilivicus bowed his head with a furrowed brow as he began to think. "Broga…" his head lifted and he snarled while turning and walking into the shadows to the Westgate, "We need to get to the Oblivion gate! That is our only hope in saving her."

"Saving her?" questioned Daelon while following him. "Saving her from what?"

-+-

Her hands lifted in front of her as she pushed away the branches creating a path for herself. The child-like heart in her chest raced faster than she had. Her muscles began to loosen as she could no longer run. For too long she had run without knowing where she was going. She had tripped and fallen over logs and hills. The rain began to lighten to a soft weeping. The clouds ran away and silver light fell through the treetops making it easier for the girl to run. Her eyes fluttered as her running slowed and her energy was completely drained. Elizabeth collapsed upon a boulder with little hope of escaping Broga.

He would be fast on her trail and possibly would punish her. Her eyes slowly opened and that little amount of hope soon turned into a burning star. Southward bound there was the Whitmond cottage whose chimney was alive with a puffing smoke. A small laugh came from her lips as a few joyful tears fell from her eyes. She pushed her weak body up from the boulder soon stumbling to the cottage. With each step she began to think less of Oblivion and more of an average life that she would be leading. She would go to the farm and ask to rest there for a while and when she had regained her strength she would sprint to Anvil and alert the guards of a Dremora attempting to get into the city.

Elizabeth placed her hand upon the side of the cottage as she breathed deeply. Her smile broadened and she walked to the front door. She could smell the firewood in the nearby fireplace and it reminded her much of her home. She lifted a hand and knocked upon the door; waiting.

Maeva the Buxom slowly opened the door with narrowed eyes. Her voice was trembling and seemed frightened, "H-Hello?"

Elizabeth sighed deeply and then said, "I…I would like to ask if I could take shelter here for a few minutes. I live in Anvil and I'm s-sure my family is missing me. Please… I really need to get out of the wilderness and into somewhere safe."

The Nordic woman quivered and she nodded frantically soon ushering the girl in. As she closed the door her weak fingertips pushed back the padlock making certain the door was locked. Maeva the Buxom turned around and looked to Elizabeth with sympathetic eyes. _Why her? She's so young… Nines forgive me._ She spoke sadly to herself. The Altmer sat down at a wobbly chair with a deep sigh. "Thank you very much, ma'am. I promise I won't be much of a bother. I just want…" she stopped. Her eyes were upon Maeva the Buxom now. The Nord carried a blunt in one of her shivering hands, her back against the door. "W-What are you doing?" questioned Elizabeth.

Maeva wept lightly, soon whispering, "P-Please forgive me." The Nordic woman leapt forward and raised Rockshatter high in the air. Before Elizabeth could even fall from her chair, the woman struck the Elf over the head.

The Elf's vision blurred as she fell from her chair and struck the cold hard ground. Her eyes fluttered open and closed and she could see Maeva the Buxom clench tightly onto Rockshatter; weeping in sadness. Behind the Nord, a black figure dropped from the ceiling. Maeva tilted her head slightly as Broga placed his hand upon her shoulder. The Dremora grinned and spoke the last words that Elizabeth would hear, "Don't worry…" he had purred to the Nord, "this is all for the greater good of Tamerial."

The Elf slipped off into darkness not knowing of what her fate was going to be.

-+-

Xilivicus and Daelon sped over grassy mounds and boulders. The Dremora ran up a boulder soon leaping off to another one. Daelon breathed heavily attempting to follow just as fast as the Churl was running. Xilivicus' eyes lifted to the horizon as he could see the towering Oblivion gate. His muscles tensed and he leapt down upon the grassy planes soon declaring, "We're almost there. There should be guards outside the gates—Clannfear, Daedroth, Spider Daedra. Unless… my commander left the gate unprotected."

Daelon caught up and leaned over pressing his palms onto his knees as he began to seize his lost breath, "What… what would be worst?" He wheezed.

Xilivicus narrowed his eyes with a glare, "Unprotected."

The Altmer lifted and inquired, "Why?"

The Churl turned and gave him a glance. He saw no sign of Elizabeth within him. Their skin color, their eyes or hair. But Xilivicus could certainly see Jerald in him. His facial structure and poise, his voice and even the way they shared the fatherly outlook over Elizabeth. Xilivicus frowned and said, "If the gate is unprotected it means that my commander knew he wasn't going to be gone long. We need to get there quickly. Go back to Anvil and tell the guards to keep in the city. We don't need any causalities."

Daelon shook his head and said, "I will go with you to the Oblivion Gate and even through it if that means getting my sister back here where she belongs."

Stubborn; this man was surely Jerald's son. The Churl nodded and began to journey forth. "Keep up then and if you see anything odd don't keep it to yourself. This is how he tricks you and finally delivers the fatal blow."

The two men sprinted to the gate with a fearless hope in their heart. Daelon promised the Nine that he would do whatever they bided if he could have the strength to overcome this Daedric Commander. Xilivicus swore to Dibella and Mara that all he wanted was to free Elizabeth; even if it was at his own life's disposal. Just as Xilivicus feared, the gate was unprotected. Daelon marveled at the sheer brilliance and horror of this gargantuan gate. Xilivicus walked to the base of the gate, glancing at the wayshrine that it had destroyed. His blood boiled as he saw it was that of Mara. His hands clenched and he snarled, "How dare him…"

Daelon walked over with frightened wide eyes, "W-Where is he?"

"Right… here," Broga purred while sitting upon a giant boulder. He smirked and stood up soon bounding off and landing a few feet behind the men.

Xilivicus turned to him with a deep glare. He stepped forward and snarled, "Where's Elizabeth?!"

Broga shrugged slightly and his crooked grin broadened, "You tell me, lover-boy."

"Stop playing games," Daelon snarled, "Where's my sister?"

The Commander glanced over with uninterested deep red eyes. He sneered and hissed, "She is no longer your concern… so leave."

The Altmer stepped forward, but the Churl held up his arm and snarled, "Do what he says."

Daelon narrowed his eyes and spat, "I'm not leaving here without my sister!"

"If you don't heed his warning you won't leave here with your life," Xilivicus hissed while giving him a corner glare. "I won't walk away unless I have your sister. I swore to her that under my protection she was never going to get in harm's way. As I live, I will _always_ protect her. Now go… your service is needed in Anvil."

The Altmer pursed his lips and began to make his way for the path to Anvil. Broga watched him with attentive eyes a smirk pulling over his lips. "How easy do you think… it would be to chase him down… right now?" Lunacy sparked in his eyes.

Xilivicus bore his fangs as he spat, "Your dealings are with me, not that man."

"Mmm… how true you are," Broga purred while walking closer. "So, let me get this straight; you escaped Oblivion, slinked through Anvil, escaped from Anvil and chased me back here for… what? An exchange of words and strikes?"

"I came for Elizabeth. Now where is she?!" The Churl boomed as the two began to walk in circles; staring one another down.

A chuckle came from the black Dremora's lips as he crossed his arms and stood in front of the Oblivion gate, "Dear brother, she is under my authority and supervision now! Do not burden yourself with her. She will only cause you heartbreak and infidelity to Lord Dagon."

"Dagon can burn in the darkest of hells," Xilivicus snarled, "Elizabeth means more to me than anything."

Broga's eyes sparkled and he smirked, "So… you would do anything to get her?"

"Yes," Xilivicus hissed, "anything."

"Well, well, well," Broga chuckled while walking closer. "I believe I just may have a proposition for you, that is… if you're willing to listen."

The Churl lowered his brow; snapping, "What is it?"

The Commander cracked his dense neck with a profound sigh, "You know… more and likely that if we did battle that even if you won I would appear back in Oblivion fast enough to get Elizabeth. If you died, well, you would have to go through the whole trouble of finding her before me. This is a very forlorn corner you have put yourself into, brother. That is why… I believe that I have come to a solution that will benefit the both of us." Broga held out his hand near his head, rubbing his middle nail over his thumb. "Give me three months of loyal service… and I shall bestow upon you the right of Mastery over the Altmer girl. You can return her to Tamerial, keep her as a concubine—I do not care what your plans are for her. Three months of service is all I ask," he motioned the number with his middle, ring, and smallest finger.

Xilivicus cocked an eyebrow; hesitant, "… if I refuse?"

"Then the girl shall be ruled under me and I will not tolerate any commerce between the two of you. Your body will remain in the torture chambers and the maiden shall do services for me upon the Oblivions planes."

The Churl's eyes lit wit fury as he pondered the consequences of each decision. He could try and fight against his superior; however, he hadn't fought in such a while that he wasn't certain if he was even capable to fight. The inevitable began to loom over him and he knew that there were no other options than to give in. "If I promise to be your serf you must vow to me that you shall _never_ harm Elizabeth."

Broga chuckled and rubbed his jaw harshly, "If I do than our contract is voided." The Dremora's crimson eyes lifted as he saw torchlight and horses riding towards the Oblivion gate. Surely these people were guards and other such mediocre heroes. "… Decide quickly, brother. It appears that we have company."

Xilivicus swirled around and glared down at the path. The wind began to pick up once again and it had appeared that the storm had returned from its grave among the stars. The Churl swiveled back around and furrowed his brow as he looked upon his commander. Broga waited with that same cocky grin spread across his lips. Xilivicus walked forward and as he approached the monster's black figure he fell down upon his knees and placed his hands upon the ground before Broga. His lips pursed as he hissed lightly, "What shall I do, master?"

The Commander chuckled and glanced back to the Oblivion gate with wide fiery eyes. He nodded and said, "Raise now, brother. Let us seal this deal."

The Churl rose with cagey eyes. Broga seized his hand and as he held it up he took his jagged jet black middle nail and sliced a cross in the back of his hand. Xilivicus cringed as he watched Broga lean down and spit upon the wound. As the saliva came in contact with the royal purple skin it steamed and almost seemed to burn away the blood droplets and severed skin.

Xilivicus grasped his wrist as he watched the skin burn away and vanish where the cross had been put. The cross now a light violet color. His eyes lifted and he scowled, "What if those guards follow us into Oblivion? We'll lead them right to Elizabeth."

Broga shook his head, "When I cross over through the gate, the portal shall shift and turn to another plane of Oblivion. Dagon and his realm shall be completely safe from these Cyrodiilic imbeciles. Now go… I must be the last to pass through the gate."

The Churl glanced once more back to the guards and swiftly he ran through the portal. Broga smirked and slowly backed up into the gate, watching the guards come forth. Right as the man's gigantic body disappeared. The portal had been redirected and a few Clannfear and Daedroth stepped out to protect the portal.

Through the wild hellfire and fiery blasts of the portal, Xilivicus tumbled through and soon landed back into Dagon's first realm. He nearly tumbled out landing on one knee. He grunted as he hit the ground and suddenly he glanced up and forgot about everything.

There before him laid the mistress in all her beautiful glory. She lay upon her side with her long waved silver hair as her pillow. Her once extravagant outfit now tattered and soiled by the earth and water of Anvil. The Churl felt his heart seize and he quickly stumbled forward. He fell besides her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her lightly, "Elizabeth! Elizabeth, wake up!" He cried out to her. His eyes fell upon the bloody trickle running from one of her temples and the worst of scenarios ran through his untamed mind.

Her brow creased and her eyes fluttered open. Her vision blurred for a few moments and with a battering of eyelashes she saw Xilivicus looming over her. His caring tangerine eyes warmed her and brought back the hope and life that she had seemed to forget in those last three weeks. A soft delicate smile pulled over her lips and the Churl fell back as she sat up quickly and glanced over to him, "X-Xilivicus? Is… is that really you?"

He grinned and nodded as his eyes became misty, "Yes, it is I, Elizabeth."

She lunged at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. They fell back upon the dusty red soil of Oblivion. Xilivicus sheltered her head and nuzzled her ear soon whispering into it, "Oh, how I have missed you."

The girl's heart swelled and she held him even tighter knowing there were no words that could illustrate how much she had missed him. A dark shadow overcame them and the maiden's crystal blue eyes opened and she could see Broga. Her fingertips gripped dreadfully into Xilivicus as she hissed, "Broga…!"

The Commander chuckled and as he approached this couple a few guards came forth. Xilivicus glanced around and he held tighter onto the girl knowing he would never willingly let her go. Broga nodded towards the guards and demanded, "Take her to court."

The guards pried Xilivicus' arms from the girl soon dragging him back. Two guards seized Elizabeth and lifted her to her feet. The Churl thrashed about angrily soon pulling from the guards' grasp. He shoulder blasted a few guards away while reaching his hand far out for the Elf. Elizabeth gasped and elbowed her guards soon reaching out. Their fingers entwined for a moment until Broga seized Xilivicus by the horns and jerked him backwards. The Churl spun backwards and hit the ground. Dust flew up and a few guards held him in place by taking two Daedric longswords and crossing them near the Churl's head. Xilivicus clenched his teeth and glared up at Broga who walked closer. The black Dremora leaned down and hissed, "In three months… Dagon should be ruling over Tamerial. There's no use in attempting to save her Cyrodiilic life, brother. I hope you enjoy being my servant," his eyes lifted to the guards and he snarled, "Take him to the dungeons. Give him another round of whipping."

Xilivicus' eyes widened and the swords near his head were ripped from the ground and the Daedric guards picked him up and dragged him away. Broga chuckled and started to the walk to the courtroom. Behind him, the Churl bellowed, "Broga! You lying son of a bitch! You vowed to me! YOU VOWED!"

Broga chuckled and glanced behind his back and with a soft whisper he said, "I'm a Daedra… not a saint, brother."

The commander pushed back the grand mansion's doors as he ventured further to attend the court hearing where Elizabeth would speak of all that she knew and then she would be his and his alone.

**_--TBC-- _****_

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**_Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know it took me a long time and I know it's a lot longer than the other chapters. But I hope you enjoyed to the least. Have a good week! _**


	17. Preparations and Planning

_**Thank you for all the hits and reviews. I really appreciate you all taking time out of your schedules to read this story. In the summer I'll get Shivering Isles and Knights of the Nine so I should get more inspiration for this story as well as other stories that I shall write in the future. Thank you again for all your support, comments, and critique.**_

_**Preferred Song: 'Stupid Girl' by Cold

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_**-+-**_

Their hands were harsh upon her skin as they dragged her along. She attempted to plant her feet into the soil or even fight back against these monster; however, she hadn't the strength or willpower to do so. They shoved her through the halls of the mansion with little mercy at all. She marveled at the grand columns of brimstone and bones. Her body shivered in fright of the long wide floors and all the creatures that guarded these halls. Daedric men held back chained Clannfear from running wild. The maiden gasped and attempted to move aside. So many eyes fell upon her. Silver, crimson, black, white… they all held amazement as they saw this Altmer being led to the main chambers of Dagon's Court.

Could it possibly be that this war was quickly coming to an end? Could it possibly be that Tamerial was almost in Dagon's cold black clutches? A few wondering Daedra followed the guards in wonderment. As Elizabeth approached the gargantuan godlike doors two Daedric men grasped the handles and forced them open exposing an overflowing courtroom. The stands held many a Daedra and upon the pedestals were many crimson robed court members. In the center of these pedestals was the grand master throne where Mehrunes Dagon resided. His black eyes were piercing down from the heavens and scorching the girl. Right as she had caught sight of this monstrosity, her body became petrified and her face became a ghostly white.

She jerked her body backwards in a run; nonetheless, the guards had a great grip upon her. They chuckled at her fear and all she heard were cackles as she was brought to the middle of the court. Her body shivered in fear as with each step she could see what lay before her on the horizon. Her heart rammed against her ribcage; attempting to escape from this hellhole.

The guards released their hands from the maiden and stepped back. One Daedra leaned closer to her as her eyes were fastened upon Lord Dagon. The Kynmarcher narrowed his black eyes as he snarled, "Bow, mortal." Elizabeth could hear nothing but these wild eccentric cackles around her. These creatures… this realm… this Daedric Prince… what god would even conjure such monsters into existence? The Kynmarcher removed his mace from his belt and as he raised it he snarled, "Show your respect and bow!"

Just as he was to bring it down upon her back, Broga's hand grasped the hilt of the mace and he tossed his calm eyes to the Kynmarcher. He nodded at his brethren and the Kynmarcher bowed and quickly stalked away to his post. The great black Daedra turned and leaned close to Elizabeth. His familiar rich voice hissed in her ear, "Bow."

Elizabeth's concentration was ripped from Dagon and she could feel her knees give way. She fell onto her knees and respectfully bowed with her hands spread out before her. Broga walked forward to the stand with a somber face. The Altmer closed her eyes tightly as she whispered prayers to her gods. Blood sweated from her brow as she prayed harder than she had ever before for her life depended on it.

Suddenly, the ground around her gave off a roar and the maiden flung up to see what the noise was about. From the courtroom floor, three jagged spikes rose from the marble and coiled around the girl. She gasped and grabbed her head; protecting herself. The spikes spun around and the barbs grew out soon creating a magnificent ebon cage. The maiden's crystal eyes opened and she glimpsed at the cage around her. Her eyes were shifty and her nerves were on the verge of breaking.

Broga bowed humbly and as he returned to his full height he grinned and looked up at his Master. "Lord Dagon, my liege… so you have said I have done. Here before you is the great scholar of Tamerial!"

Dagon lifted his hefty claws and soon entwined his fingers placing his hands under his chin. He growled for a second then leaned forward. "This… is the great scholar? She is just a naïve child!"

"Ah, yes!" Broga chuckled while stepping back a few steps. "Her knowledge of Tamerial surpasses her age, milord. It may be true that she is young; yet, no other scholar of Kvatch could even explain what she has to me. Go ahead, sir, and ask her anything."

Dagon shifted his eyes from his follower to the Altmer. Elizabeth cringed and backed up upon the rough barbed cage. Her breaths were rushed and she saw the great Prince sit forward and smile. How eerie it was to see such a vile man smile. "Your reputation in my realms continues, little Altmer. Tell me…" he leaned upon an armrest with narrowed eyes as his harsh eccentric voice echoed around the room, "Who are you precisely?"

The maiden licked her dried lips as she tried to conjure a voice to herself. For a few moments she stood speechless. Her eyes clenched tightly shut and she cried out in a faltering voice, "M…My name… is Elizabeth Asquerana. I was a former resident of Kvatch until… until it was destroyed." She paused while watching the ground. She knew returning her gaze to Mehrunes Dagon would petrify her even further. "I am educated in the Arcane arts of alteration, destruction, conjuration, and Restoration. M…My… my father was a teacher in the Arcane University. My mother… s-she was very… intellectually educated. She… was the one who taught me most of what I know o-of Tamerial, sir."

The stands grew silent as they listened to this mortal speak. Some Daedra had never heard or even seen an Elven woman. Many were stunned at how pale she was or even how silver her hair was. Dagon looked seemingly unimpressed. He overlooked the girl then questioned, "From what I have heard, you know much of the people and land of Tamerial. Where is your Great Champion?"

"He resides in Cloud Ruler Temple with the Blades. If… if he is not there then he will be rather going to or in one of your Oblivion gates." She had announced.

"These blades… what is there assignment?" Dagon questioned while stroking the stone of the throne with his long jagged nails.

"To protect the Emperor," said she while continuing to calm down her thrashing heart.

Broga nodded and walked to the cage soon turning back to Lord Dagon and calling up to him, "Our assassins have already gotten rid of all the Septim heirs, _except _his last remaining heir, Martin Septim. The Amulet of Kings is still in our possession and the grandmaster blade is still feebly wandering about trying to pinpoint an area that he might attack to hold us back from completely taking over Tamerial. Sir, if I may advise-"

"Quiet," Dagon snarled while waving him off. "I desire to hear from the Elf." Broga glanced sideways to see the pale and trembling girl. He walked back forward as Dagon questioned, "If you were in my place, Altmer, what would you do?"

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and shrugged her heavy shoulders, "I-I… I wouldn't know what to do, sir."

"Oh, come now!" Dagon chuckled loudly making the walls quiver. "Surely you must have thought about this in the last month."

The Altmer shook her head meekly keeping her eyes upon the floor. She couldn't help this Prince anymore than she already had. She couldn't allow Tamerial to fall into his hands. Mehrunes' eerie grin disappeared and he glared down upon the girl soon roaring, "… do you have any idea of what my powers are capable of, mortal?! If you do not begin to answer me you shall be suffering the same fate as your dear Xilivicus! Now tell me—WHAT YOU WOULD DO?!"

"Another Great Gate!" she cried out in fear while cowering upon the wall of the cage. "Put up another Great Gate near Cloud Ruler Temple!" Dagon leaned forward with all his attention upon the girl's words. Yes, a great gate, if it could destroy the great Kvatch it could destroy all of Tamerial. Tears clouded her eyes and she slid down the side of the cage with a sob, "P-Please… just let me g-go. There's nothing… m-more I can tell you that you don't already know."

Mehrunes leaned back upon his throne with some consideration. The guardsmen and high councilors waited for his words. Dagon nodded and then called out, "Kynmarcher Xion." The Assassin stood from the stands and waited for orders. The Daedric Prince glanced over and said, "Compile the mages and plan out the establishment of a Great Gate near Cloud Ruler Temple. I want a foolproof plan by Tamerial's Sunrise. As for the rest of you, prepare for battle! Within the next month Tamerial shall be mine at last!"

The Daedra hollered out in victory and strength as they were certain that this mortal realm would surely be their new home. Elizabeth stumbled forward and grasped the bars. Her head poked through the dark sturdy bars as she looked around curiously. Broga walked closer to the throne and looked up to Dagon, "What shall I do with the girl, my liege?"

Dagon shifted in his chair as he was deciding what to do with her in his mind. He rubbed his curved jaw with a melodious groan. Broga waited upon his orders. The Dremora stared at Dagon heavily. The Daedric Prince sighed deeply then spoke, "Hand her over to the Spider Daedra… let them rid her of that appalling Tamerial attire. She needs to be in garments fitting for her _new home_." A smirk pulled across his lips which made Elizabeth sob.

The cage cracked as the barbs unhooked themselves from each other and soon the cage disappeared back into the ground the same as once it came. Broga bowed and pivoted around soon storming over to the girl. The maiden flipped over and just as she leapt to her feet to run, Broga seized her by the back of the neck and took her away.

-+-

The cell door opened and the two guards tossed in the limp body of the Churl. He hit the harsh cold ground soon staining it with his own fallen blood. His eyes fluttered weakly as he was to the point of surrendering completely. Just as he was to fall out of consciousness he could see _her_ blurred figure. Her pupils were disappearing in a sky of cobalt as she reached her trembling hand towards him. Her teeth clashed together as she stretched her body far. Her fingertips hardly touching his own. "…_Xilivicus!_"

His eyes ripped open widely; pupils turning to black slits. He breathed heavily soon tasting dust upon his violet tongue. He groaned as he seized the floor and halfheartedly pushed himself up. He groaned with each action for everything pained him. Each time he closed his eyes he could see the guards prying Elizabeth from him like they were two boards nailed together. He feared seeing her anymore for this caused his grieving heart to break even further and even more anxious sweat pour from his brow. His wild ginger hair stuck to the blood and sweat upon his face. He leaned his forehead against the bars with fluttering eyes. He was going to get out of here and save Elizabeth. He would find a way to save her even if it meant calling in the Hero to save her. He rested one of his firm hands upon his side and he felt something in his pocket. His eyes opened and he glanced down to see the handle of the Skeleton Key. His brow furrowed and he was about to pull it out, but he could feel himself beginning to feel faint. He would have to wait until he got back his strength before he attempted anything. He closed his eyes and hastily fell into a deep slumber.

A few moments passed and a great black shadow loomed over the sleeping Dremora. Silver eyes narrowed and Velthada looked him over silently. Her black smeared lips pursed as she made certain that he was asleep. She stepped closer to the cage and she glanced both ways down the halls to assure herself that they were alone. She slid a pale hand inside the cage and within her palm was a small purple vial. She hovered her hand over Xilivicus' body and she slowly tipped the contents out onto him. The pink elixir ran over his wounds and sealed them up as if they never had happened. Velthada pulled the vial back to herself and concealed it within the middle of her corset. She smiled sweetly and lowered herself on her jagged black legs. Her hand slipped back inside the cage and she wiped a gentle lock of hair from the Dremora's face. "Oh, my dear brethren. If only you knew that soon it shall be your day to be the Hero."

-+-

Broga pulled the maiden down the halls with no mercy whatsoever. His nostrils flared as she attempted time after time to escape from his grasp. His jagged black nails pierced her skin and she yelped in pain soon cringing and succumbing to his will. Broga's eyes cast forward and he saw the grand fiery door that led to the Web Keep. As the doors came ajar, a great domed room appeared with spider webs leading all over the room. Spider Daedra spun neat little webs as they cascaded to the ground and rushed about carrying Sigil Stones which were not bewitched with the Daedric essence. Elizabeth drew back in fear as these arachnid women moved about so gracefully and yet so horrifyingly. Their jagged barded-looking legs clawed at the walls and ground as they moved. From the darkness, Velthada appeared. Her silver eyes narrowed and she crawled forward towards the Dremora and its maiden. "Broga… when did you arrive? I didn't smell your foul stench."

Broga grinned and shoved the girl forward. He had ignored her rude remark for it would only end in brawling. "Dagon demands you to rid her of her Cyrodiilic attire. Dress her accordingly, if you will. Escort her to the Watch room and there I shall keep her until Dagon needs her once more."

Elizabeth's eyes iced over with an imprisoned misery as she was tossed towards the appalling Spider Daedra. Was she merely an animal to these dreadful people now? Just as Velthada caught her, something overcame the Altmer. A feeling of safety. She hadn't felt that with any monster in this realm. Velthada held her tightly and caringly. Her eyes were still piercing through Broga's eyes. The Black Dremora smiled and leaned a little closer, "Take good care of my little Elven flower," his jagged nails lifted and caressed through Elizabeth's long silver hair.

The Elf cringed and Velthada pulled her back. The Spider Daedra narrowed her eyes and hissed, "Thank you, commander. You will not be needed from here on out."

Broga bowed respectively and he quickly turned and left the room.

Elizabeth remained in the tight clutches of the Spider Daedra, Velthada. The Daedric woman sighed rather profoundly and with her soothing voice she spoke, "I am sorry that you had to meet such a foul man as Broga. Daedra like _him_ give us all bad names. The good ones are infrequently seen upon the planes of Oblivion, but they do exist." Her black lips coiled into a Cheshire cat smile. "Come… let us get you clothes fitting for this realm."

As Velthada began to weave the maiden and herself through the entanglements of the web, the Altmer glanced up to the gargantuan height of the Spider Daedra. She loomed upon those jagged black legs of hers and this seems so uncanny to Elizabeth she feared being near her. Her eyes cast to the ground for it was rude to stare. "…h-how… how long shall I be here?" she managed to mutter.

The Spider tossed her silver eyes sideways with a discouraging scowl. Her lips pursed and she overlooked the question for a moment or two before answering. "… it… it really depends, I suppose. If Lord Dagon's siege on Tamerial is successful then you shall be our guest for quite a long time. Now, if your Hero happens to foil my master's plans then you might be going home sooner than you thought. But please do not speak word of this to the other Daedra here." Velthada's eyes shifted quickly around her. The Spider Daedra looming in the shadows of the web were nothing more then uncivilized monsters. "Most of them are under the spell of Dagon. There are few here that you can trust."

Elizabeth lifted her eyes and looked over the Daedra once again, "… you…" she uttered. She smiled brightly, "You were upon the plane of Oblivion I was on… you… you stopped Broga from attacking Xilivicus and I. I knew you looked too familiar."

Velthada nodded her head softly and purred, "And here I thought you would have forgotten me."

The Altmer smiled weakly. Could it possibly be that not all Daedra were cruel, unloving, and barbaric as Broga? Certainly she knew Xilivicus was righteous; however, Elizabeth thought it was the enchantments of Mara and Dibella that altered that characteristic. She never would have guessed that other Daedra had the choice to be kind or evil.

The couple approached the back of the room and upon the wall was a great door. Velthada wrapped her long white hands around the handle and pushed the door ajar. Her eyes fell back and she smiled, "This is the room where we keep most of the armor and supplies that all Dremora alike are equipped with. We have robes, cuirasses, greaves, skirts, headdresses… well… let us just say we have exceedingly list of inventory." The Spider Daedra walked farther into the room. Upon the walls were shelves and shelves of armor and weapons. Elizabeth quickly followed with ample eyes of wonderment.

"How do you have such a stock of items? It… it's astounding!" The Altmer cried out.

Velthada glanced around and called back to her, "We forge many of our things out of the lava and volcanic stone around us. Others, like the robes and dresses, we weave from our thread like webs." The Spider Daedra began opening a large dressing station and just as she was about to pull open the doors she frowned and sighed, "Broga more and likely is looking for you to be in a dress. Something very elegant, yet very Daedric. I know of only one dress and that is one given to us by Sanguine. You can only imagine what sort of dress Sanguine could make for a woman; however, he had made this dress look absolutely astonishing. I do hope you enjoy it."

Velthada drew open the doors and Elizabeth let off a soft gasp as she looked upon the dress. Its fabric was blacker than night and upon the corset were sparkling rubies that made Daedric designs all around the edges. Down upon the long drooping bells of the arms was a black needle-like lace. Upon the seam of the top leading down into the gigantic skirt there were skeleton-like fingers that stuck out and held the fabric out making it flow off the wearer's body. The neckline scooped down barely above the breasts and the back fell down to the lower back with crisscrossed black leather straps holding it together.

Elizabeth walked closer with awe in her eyes. Her fingertips slipped past the fabric and the mere touch sent shivers down her spine. Velthada crawled closer and told her, "Sanguine had made it for the great Dremora Anaxes. She was the only female that Lord Dagon had ever made. She was the fiercest of warriors and it was said that her wrath even frightened the gods. One day… Anaxes' mind began to comprehend that Dagon was only using her. At this time, Sanguine had lusted for the woman and wished for her to be upon his plane. He wove this dress as a gift for her so it might sway her mind to join him in his plane. Just as he sent it here, the Dremora Anaxes had confronted Dagon and demanded justice and to be treated as a peer not a slave…" Velthada walked closer with a profound sigh. "Lord Dagon turned her into a foolish Xivilai and that was the end of the female Dremora.

"Not that many people remember her… it was eons ago." Velthada removed the dress from its stand. Dust hadn't collected on it amazingly. "… Now that I remember it… your friend, Xilivicus, was genuinely intimate with her, and her transformation was hard for him to handle. You and Anaxes share a lot in common." The Spider Daedra grinned and held the dress up for the girl; imagining her within its tight embrace. "Two beautiful women with the soul of a warrior inside their hearts."

Elizabeth smiled brightly as she looked upon this Daedra. She was not that frightening at all. Her words were kind and true. She did not utter lies and curses like she had seen other Daedra do. She was… different. "Thank you, Dremora."

Velthada grinned and nodded, "… come… let us get you suited. Broga is not a patient man, afterall."

-+-

"F-Father! We must hurry," Daelon screamed as he belted into the Count's Arms. "She'll d-die if we don't hurry there now!"

Jerald and the guards next to him nearly leapt from their skins as this eccentric Altmer burst in without much warning. Caldwyn and Orrick leapt up from their chairs. They both harmonized and questioned, "Did you find Elizabeth?!"

Daelon's drenched hair swung as he pivoted his head to look at his brothers. "Y-Yes! … Well, no… I mean… yes, but no…"

Orrick rolled his eyes and snarled, "Which is it?! Yes… or no?"

The elder brother grabbed his head and said, "I know where she is… b-but I haven't seen her."

Jerald walked closer with a furrowed brow, "… where is she?"

"In Oblivion," a cold harsh voice called from the doorway of the Count's Arms. The Asquerana family all turned their wondering eyes to see a bulky armored figure walking into the Tavern. Thick steel boots clinked across the ground as the Hero walked in. His golden hair drenched with the Anvil rain and now hung down into his frozen eyes. He turned to Jerald and spoke once more, "I saw two Daedra at their gate which just so happens to be right outside the city. I believe they came for her and her alone."

Jerald swallowed a frightened lump in his throat. His stomach began to churn and he felt very sick. "… I-Is… there any chance we can invade and find her?"

The Hero shook his head tiredly, "Just as they escaped into the gate I could see a change in the portal. I suppose they had set certain coordinates and those changed once they entered the gate. The guards are holding off a few Clannfear and Scamps, but it won't be long until those guards will need help."

Daelon breathed heavily and nearly screamed at the Hero, "Xilivicus is with her! Elizabeth will be fine! He swore to always protect her! I know-"

"-Xilivicus walked freely into the gate with a greater black Daedra!" His eyes shifted over to Jerald and he hissed, "He's been toying with her heart this whole time, sir. Now we are right back where we started. It's only a matter of time until one of the other cities ends up like Kvatch."

The guards shivered in their greaves as they thought of all the ruin and misery Kvatch held. Daelon's eyes became fiery pools and he snarled at the Hero, "Xilivicus cherishes Elizabeth and she surely returns the affection! I am certain that he is doing everything he can to save her from Oblivion."

The knight's woodland eyes burned into black abyss and he turned to the Altmer. How he wanted to bash his silver sword into his head for even mentioning that to him. His muscles tensed and he hissed, "You sound just like the _girl_. I need to get back to the gate and close it before anything happens. After that, I request Lord Jerald and his family to journey with me to Cloud Ruler Temple. From there, we shall find out what to do."

The Hero turned and just as he was about to leave, Caldwyn called out to him. The knight stopped and tilted his head and listened as the Altmer questioned, "Y-You… do you think we'll get her back?"

The Champion scoffed and continued walking out, soon answering, "Get her back? Of course… but it's the condition of how she comes back that we have to worry about."

-+-

Xilivicus groaned as he began to wake up. He closed his eyes and knew that pain was about to overwhelm him—but… he was painless. His eyes slowly opened and he glanced down to his body to see his smooth royal purple skin. His brow creased and he leisurely rose to his feet. No pain? Was he dreaming? He clenched his hands a few times to make certain that there was no pain.

He smiled brightly and his jagged teeth were exposed. His eyes lifted to the cage and suddenly he remembered. The Skeleton Key! His hand dug into his pocket to find—nothing. His eyes narrowed and he checked his other pocket, but there was nothing as well. His eyes scanned the ground to no prevail. What happened to the—

"Looking for this?" a cold voice called out.

Xilivicus' head jerked up and he saw Broga leaning on the wall outside his cage. His body nearly disappearing within the darkness. The Churl gnashed his teeth together and just as he was about to curse at him, the Commander pushed off the wall and unlocked Xilivicus' cage. The Churl stood in confusion as Broga opened his cage with a smile. "What are you doing?" questioned he.

"You're working for me for three months, correct? Well… you better start working." Broga nodded and began walking out of the dungeons.

Xilivicus walked out of the cage and watched his Commander saunter away. Broga turned and stopped with a glare, "Are you coming, Churl?"

Frozen for a moment, Xilivicus began to wonder the consequences of obeying this evil man. Could it lead to his own downfall? But… it would bring him closer to Elizabeth. There was no other option. The Churl sprinted forward and followed the Commander from the hollow keeps of the dungeons, wondering just what Broga had in store for him.

* * *

**_Sorry for not updating for quite some time. I've been really busy with work and all. Trying to get Shivering Isle and Knights of the Nine so I understand what you crazy reviewers are talking about. R&R!! Thank you for reading. I do hope you enjoyed._**


	18. The Secret Meeting: A Dying Love

_**Sorry for such a late update. Next one will be faster, hopefully.

* * *

**_

_**-+-**_

Broga opened the great door to the Watch tower and he walked in with a sigh. The once burning fire in the center of the room was now merely a crumbling carcass for the fire had died many an hour ago. Xilivicus walked in and watched Broga pace around the room a little; unsure of what to do. The Churl narrowed his eyes and called out, "What… did you want me to do, sir?"

The great black Dremora lifted his heavy head and glanced over. A smirk creased over his black lips and he answered, "Well, since we still have a while. Tell me about Elizabeth. You're more of a songbird than she is. Possibly I can get more information out of you."

"What's there to tell?" puffed the Churl whose eyes were tossed to the skies outside the marvelous window.

Broga chuckled lightly and he walked closer to his brethren. "How does it feel when she tells you she loves you?"

Xilivicus' muscles tensed and he continued to look out the window; ignoring his master's question. The Commander placed his hand upon Xilivicus' bare shoulder and he questioned, "How does it feel… to know that she belongs to me now?"

"She belongs to no man, Broga. She is her own person." The Churl tossed his tangerine eyes up to the Commander.

Broga laughed and patted his brethren's shoulder lightly. "Oh, Xilivicus… you are so trifling." The Dremora walked to the window and glanced out with a deep sigh. His wicked waved horns rose as he lowered his head to some extent. "When will you finally accept the fact that you're a Daedra?" He turned around with a smile. "You're no human, you're no Mer, and you're not some Saint from _their _world! As long as you continue to act like a human you will continue to be treated like a human." Broga stormed forward and purred, "I think I know exactly what is wrong with you. You haven't had Cyrodiilic blood on your hands for years. Deep within your heart you're lusting for the feeling of power and that will cure you of this human attribute of love and… purity." He sneered.

"I don't want to kill anyone," Xilivicus hissed. "I am perfectly fine with clean hands." He glanced down to his violet palms. His eyes were etching the creative creases.

"You're letting those damned goddesses speak for you, brother! Push them from your mind and pick up your own opinions and voice. Let the hatred consume you! Let it flow through your veins once again!"

The Churl lifted his head and stared at Broga. "No… this is my voice. This is my opinion. You've let Mehrunes corrupt your mind. You're just like him. Shallow, opinionated, cruel… yes, you're just like him."

Broga bore his jagged teeth as he grinned. He leaned closer and snarled, "… and who gets the girl at the end of the night, Xilivicus, hmm?"

The Churl's body tensed and he felt the power to strike this man down. How could he refer back to Elizabeth in that horrible context? His muscles bulged as he could feel the hatred of Mara, Dibella, and even himself overcome him. Broga's eyes lifted and his face fell emotionless as he stared at something other then Xilivicus. The Churl furrowed his brow and whipped around to see Velthada and Elizabeth standing in the doorway.

The elegant Daedric dress embraced Elizabeth tightly and a crown-like headdress was placed over her head; holding back her silver hair. Her long silver locks had been braided and bounded up into a ponytail, a bouncing silver tail falling from the style. Her porcelain face was enhanced with charcoal around her eyes and upon her lips. The charcoal lined her eyes and drew out to a long black line, giving her the impression of cat-like eyes. Her lips were a dark black like Broga's and upon her thin neck was a black collar that Velthada had made for her.

"Elizabeth…" Xilivicus managed to mutter as his face flushed of color. His heart leapt and he felt automatically weak by her enticing appearance. Suddenly, he could see flashes of Anaxes. That was her dress, wasn't it?

Broga smiled and called out, "Velthada… you have done a marvelous job for once." He stepped forward and looked the maiden over. "She looks completely… inimitable."

Velthada crossed her arms and questioned, "Is that not what you asked for, _Broga_?" She sneered at his name.

Elizabeth's large crystal eyes lifted past Broga and she could see Xilivicus gawking at her. A smile pulled across her face and she burst past Broga nearly causing him to fall over. Broga spun around and watched as Elizabeth leapt into her friend's arms. The Churl held her tightly to him feeling her heartbeat burn into his chest. His black nails running through her silver locks. He leaned his head upon hers and whispered in her ear, "I'm so relieved you're back."

She ran her fingertips across his shoulders and she smiled as she whispered back to him, "I couldn't leave forever."

They pulled apart and the Churl smiled sweetly. He caressed her cheek and told her, "… you… look beautiful."

Velthada grinned and glanced up to Broga. "It looks like it's not working how you wanted afterall, Commander."

Broga glared over his shoulder at the Spider Daedra. She laughed lightly and quickly left through the doorway. The Commander turned back to the couple and he walked closer with a smile. "Xilivicus… I want you to present our guest to all of the other commanders. Try and get as much information as you can from her while I am gone. There are some… important matters… that I must attend to. Afterall," he grinned an enormous eerie grin, "Tamerial will be ours very soon and I must assure myself of our brutal victory. Goodbye, Elizabeth. I shall see you again before long." He bowed appropriately to show her respect. As he rose, his eyes flashed with an abrupt annoyance and he beckoned his brethren to him. Xilivicus obediently sauntered over to his Master. Broga placed his hand on his neck as he drew him closer and snarled, "I'll be gone by tomorrow's light and I expect Elizabeth's purity to be in tact. Lay a hand on her in a way that I would not approve of and I will make certain that you will never see the light of day again, do you understand?"

Xilivicus pursed his lips and he muttered hardly coherently, "… yes, I understand."

"Good," said the Commander. "I'll be keeping tabs on you while I'm gone. I have a few good men who wouldn't mind stalking the two of you for a while. Don't let her beauty ensnare you, Xilivicus. You are better than her race… so start acting like it." The great black Daedra turned round and quickly stormed out of the watch's keep.

Xilivicus bowed his head and for once in his life; Broga's words began to amend his heart.

-+-

The grand mahogany doors to Cloud Ruler Temple slowly pulled back and exposed the Hero seated upon a dark auburn horse. The Asquerana men were behind him on their white stallions, staring up in awe at the temple gates. Snow danced through the grey sky and soon cascaded down upon the land. The bitter cold nipped at their noses and froze their lungs into crystallizing orbs. The Hero road up the old stairs into the temple's embrace. A few Blades watched as their great hope approached. They all knew that he was supposed to be gone to Miscardcan looking for a Great Welkynd stone. He should have been gone for many a day before finding it. His sudden appearance did not bring joy to the Blades' hearts. Something had been bothering him. What bothered the Hero bode Hell for everyone else.

Jaufree stepped out into the coldness with a furrowed brow. He moved swiftly for a warrior of his age. He ran to the stairs and watched as the Hero bounded from his horse and walked it over to the stables. "I hadn't been expecting you back for a few more days. Is there something wrong?"

"The Daedra have gotten the scholar again. I thought it would be no worry; however, it seems they've been after her all this time." Hero snarled with the Asquerana men behind him; tying up their horses.

Jaufree bowed his head as he comprehended this. What could they possibly want with a youthful female Altmer? The Blademaster lifted his old misty eyes as he questioned, "Nothing from Mysterium Xarxes reveals of Mehrunes Dagon needing a scholar. No one has any idea what he could possibly use her for."

Hero brushed a firm frozen hand through his hair soon melting the snow particles. He approached the grand doors nad opened them; storming into the main part of the temple. Martin's weary eyes lifted from his books and he called out unsurely, "…dear friend, are you alright?"

Jaufree walked quickly in after and glanced to Martin, "Our hopes are darkening in these times, my liege. We are unsure of our next actions."

"They've got her," the Hero speedily told the heir to the throne. "They took her back and we are precisely where we started."

Daelon pushed down his hood allowing his wild waved hair to fall into his frozen face. He stormed over to the Hero and snarled, "Xilivicus is with her! She'll be safe!"

"Stop your nonsense, will you? This is a war… no one is safe here… no one." The grand knight snarled while walking to the looming fireplace whose flames nearly blinded the man.

The twins pulled down their hoods as well as they walked together; side by side. They both watched the Hero and Daelon with intriqued eyes. Caldwyn cleared his throat and questioned, "If this is a war… then why don't we storm one of their gates. Get a few hostages on the way and see what we can find."

Jaufree shook his head and said, "Young altmer, we will lose time and men that way. We need to find a more effective method that will hopefully spare the lives of so many faithful soldiers."

Jerald walked near the fireplace and glanced to the hero, "What choice do we have here, sir? We're running out of options to save my daughter."

"Right now, our current mission is to stop Mehrunes Dagon from conquering Tamerial." Jaufree scolded while closing his eyes for a moment. "Your daughter will be recovered more easily than defeating the greater evil here."

"If she could be recovered so easily then why don't we have her?" Daelon snarled while twirling around and glaring at the old Blade. The heat of the fire pulsed out upon his back and melted away the coldness of the Jerall Mountains. His detailed features vanished within the shadows as the brightest light was now behind him. Everyone watched as the eldest of Asquerana sons protested. "Right now, we shouldn't be worrying of Tamerial. My sister should be the greatest of worries. Lord Dagon sent out his assassins to _find_ and _capture_ her! The great Daedric Prince wanted _my_ sister! If this was a great priority to the Prince then it should be a great priority to us! Gods know what he could be doing to her! Xilivicus is only one Dremora who would be willing to look after her. We have the rest of Dagon's realm to worry about as well. Especially the great black Dremora, Broga. From what I have gathered he is the strongest of them all, no doubt about that. He lead the attack on Kvatch and he will lead the attack on all of Tamerial."

Orrick nodded and said, "If we attack the weak points of Dagon's army…"

"… then we shall overcome this obstacle and win back Tamerial," Caldwyn finished.

The Hero chuckled and whispered above the crackling of the fireplace. "… don't be so naïve… you honestly think that we can overcome this obstacle so easily? We have been raging this war for longer than either you or I have been alive. We're not going to be finishing it in less then a fortnight. We need strategies… allies… weapons and magic."

"Then get strategies! Get allies! Get weapons and magic! You all are the great Blades! The protectors of the Emperor and all citizens of Cyrodiil!" Daelon bellowed with a hysteric laugh. His face fell into sadness as he calmed down and spoke, "… if we don't take action and step up then our hope will disappear and Tamerial will be lost forever."

Jaufree nodded and with his cracking voice he purred, "They're right… we need to work harder and faster. No more will people be idly standing by; waiting for instructions. Every man here will go out and collect allies, get armory and supplies. We need all the help we can get."

Baurus, an old Redguard, glanced over from a post and questioned, "… is there any idea of the next attack?"

Daelon bowed his head as he began to think. The Hero lifted his eyes and glanced over, "The most reasonable thing to do is attack where the Emperor is. More and likely they will attempt to anchor a gate near Bruma. If we are lucky it will only be a small gate and not one of the great gates like Kvatch had."

Martin Septim was hunched in his chair as he absorbed these words and collected them in his mind. His eyes scanned over his books and he called out, "Alert the Countess of Bruma, Hero. Dear Asquerana family, you are welcome to stay here in Cloud Ruler Temple. Please consider becoming soldiers in our army. We shall need all the help we can get."

Jerald nodded softly and said, "We shall surely consider it, my liege."

Jaufree nodded and glanced over to a watching Blade. "Get a few more mats for our guests to sleep in." His eyes shifted back over to Lord Asquerana, "If you have any more information please let us know."

The Hero turned and just as he was about to walk to the grand doors, Jaufree caught ahold of his shoulder. The knight tensed and turned his storming eyes to his senior. The old Blade narrowed his worn eyes and hissed, "Calm yourself, friend. Do not let your hatred for Daedra and your jealously of this… Xilivicus… control you. I am sure that if it overwhelms you, you might fall into their hands."

"I won't," snarled the Champion as he jerked his shoulder out of Jaufree's hand and stormed out into the cold bitter air of the mountains.

-+-

The watch tower door shut and Elizabeth watched Xilivicus' frozen structure. He stood motionless near the door with a scowl looming across his façade. Elizabeth took a few steps forward and began, "… Xilivicus…"

The Dremora heaved a sigh and he turned to her. His eyes were drained of life as he looked at her. He seemed weak and broken inside an empty shell. His eyes shifted and he walked past the girl to a grand dresser. He pulled open the crooked spiked doors and within it he saw a suit of armor. He quickly pulled it out and began fitting it upon his structure. The armor wasn't like the other Daedric armor upon the beings of this plane. It was much darker and wicked with black spines sticking off the shoulders and curving back.

Elizabeth bowed her head and whispered out into the silence, "… where did Broga go?"

"… I don't know," replied the Churl who cradeled a jagged unique helmet in his arm. He turned around to the girl with lowered eyes. His heart ached when he looked at her for the reality of never becoming her only lover began to manifest him. "Let us do as he says, Elizabeth. It wouldn't be wise to go against him."

Just as the Dremora sauntered past the girl to the door, she caught ahold of his shoulder with sadness crystalizing in her eyes. "Xilivicus… we can still escape. Come with me to Cyrodiil, you'll be safe there. People will understand… they'll accept you, I promise."

With a hopeless head shake he glanced to her and ran his gloved fingertips across her porcelain cheek. His eyes furrowed and he said, "I will find a way for you to back to Cyrodiil before tomorrow morning; however, my place… is here in Oblivion."

"No," she shook her head and objected, "No… you'll come with me. If you stay here they'll kill you! I can't lose you, Xilivicus, not again."

His voice was rich with sorrow as he looked upon this beauty that stood before him. How he wanted to rejoice for her being so near and returning the affections that he gave to her. But, there was something blocking that joy from escaping him. "We can't deny the inevitable, Elizabeth." She moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his body, pulling him close to her. The Dremora closed his eyes and hunched over soon leaning his forehead against hers.

The Altmer pursed her lips and shook her head silently as she could feel his warm breathe cascading down around her. "I-If you don't come back with me to Tamerial… then I'll stay here with you."

"No, I couldn't subject you to this life. If you reside here then you shall be under Broga's control and you would be far more miserable than you ever have been." Xilivicus stated while caressing his fingertips through her glistening ponytail.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and grasped his armor even tighter as it seemed like there would be no other option then to leave each other and forget all about that unfortunate day when Kvatch had been taken over.

-+-

The moon had risen high into the snowy Bruma sky. The Hero had alerted the Countess of what was to happen and he even did a few more errands around the city that the Blades and even some citizens needed help with. The chapel tolled twelve and the Hero closed his eyes tightly. Grey mist billowed from his pouted cherry lips as he heaved a sigh in weariness. The snow began to stumble even harder across the midnight blue and the Hero knew in his heart he wouldn't make it to the Temple in time.

He pulled the hood up to his cloak as he quickly sprinted across the cobblestone street, his steels boots clicking along the way. His eyes lifted to the steeples of the temple and he wondered if the monks would give him food and drink until the storm had subsided and he could wander back up into the mountains. His gloved hands wrapped around the frosty handles and with one quick jerk he pried open the doors. The warmth of the chapel flodded out past him and heated up his body. He quickly ran in while shutting the doors. He bowed his head and turned around slowly to see a monk bowing before the altar.

Golden candles lined the chapel and illuminated it quite nicely. The Hero walked forward and pulled down his hood allowing his curled sandy locks to fall around his face. A solemn façade iced over his face as he walked closer; attempting to stay as quiet as possible to provide the monk with his privacy in prayer. Suddenly, from the silence the monk spoke. The voice was deep and familiar to the Hero as he listened, "Forgive me, Great Talos… for I have sinned."

A lifeless form fell to the speaking monk's side and the Hero saw that the body was that of one of the primates of the chapel and that his neck had been slashed and the blood drained from his body entirely. The black robed monk rose to his feet and the Hero's gut began twisting inside of him as this monk loomed seven feet in the air.

Broga turned around with a bloodied grin as he chuckled, "I fear... I have sinned quite a lot."

"You," snarled the Hero who quickly reached for his sword to find it missing. His eyes fell to his belt and he remembered removing his weapons back in Cloud Ruler temple.

Broga laughed and walked down the aisle while crossing his burly oynx arms. Upon his thick leather belt hung a wicked Daedric claymore. "What sort of Hero are you? Not even carrying weapons with you. Don't you know that the most likely place that you'll have a combat is at a place you think you're safe? Take Kvatch for example…"

"What do you want, _Daedra_?" The Hero snarled while shifting his eyes around for any sort of weapon.

"Dremora, please." Broga sighed profoundly while bowing. "Dremora Broga. You may use either one if you like. I come with a proposition involving Elizabeth-"

"—where is she?!" The Hero boomed. His voice echoed high in the steeples.

Broga's brow creased and he walked closer. "If you would allow me to speak then I shall tell you…. Elizabeth is residing with a guard in Mehrunes Dagon's realm. She is safe and promised to be safe. We have no intention whatsoever of harming her. She is a guest and shall be treated as one, you see." The great black Dremora turned around and walked back to the altar. His crimson eyes fell to a few splatters of blood lingering on the stone altar and the floor itself. He smirked as he looked back upon how easily he had slain the primate. "I've come to you with a proposition in mind."

The dark woodland eyes of the Hero shifted around nervously. He had never taken on a high level Daedra without some sort of weapon. Even if he was very strong at hand to hand he would not defeat this monster so easily. The only thing he could possibly do now was succumb to his will. "… I'm listening."

"Good," Broga chuckled while turning around and sitting upon the stone altar. He leaned back and glanced up to the stain-glass windows that were high in the walls. "You have murdered much of my Kyn, sir. I do not wish to avenge them. I come here in hopes to avenge… myself… in a way—" The Dremora lifted a hand and caressed the jagged scar down his face. He closed his eyes and spoke softly, "We share the same enemy; you and I. Through the course of this war we have both been humilated by a certain being. He has taken something very dear to us, my friend. For me, it was my dignity and right as a commander… for you, I am certain… you already have an idea."

The Hero's mind flooded with only one picture. Xilivicus and Elizabeth embracing one another with a loving kiss. The kiss that was supposed to be his. The Hero's fists clenched tightly and his jealously and rage began to consume him. Broga chuckled and unlatched his claymore from his belt. He pushed himself off the altar and quickly laid his weapon upon the frigid stone. "… kill him with this enchanted sword and I shall return the Elven maiden to you; unharmed."

"… but why?" the Hero questioned.

Broga's eyes lifted and he turned around to him. "We don't have to fight… there are ways that we can settle this feud—privately. You and I, both, get the pride of watching Xilivicus fall dead and you get your bonny maiden back. Either way we both win. What say you?"

Silence overwhelmed the couple as they stared at each other with unshifting eyes. Their bodies stood motionless and finally the Hero stepped forward; cagily. Broga stepped aside and watched as the knight picked up the sword and watched as a purple gleam shivered down the charred spine. He furrowed his eyebrows and whispered, "… on your grave do you swear that I shall get Elizabeth back?"

"I swear on my loyalty, my friend." Broga bowed lowly allowing a few stray strands of crimson and jet hair to fall into his face. "… shall you accept my proposal?"

"… I accept." The Hero whispered.

Broga chuckled and lifted his gargantuan body. He strutted to the door with a sly smirk. "You won't regret this, sir knight… the Daedra shall attack this city in seven days. On that day you must rush into the gate and find Xilivicus. Plunge that sword into his deceiving heart and capture his soul, then the maiden will be yours once and for all."

The Hero looked down upon the blade that he held lightly in his hands. His eyes tossed up as he watched the great black Dremora seize the chapel doors. Just as he was about to open it, Broga's head turned and he spoke, "May your sword strike true, sir knight…. Don't disappoint me."

With that, Broga pulled up his hood and quickly jerked the chapel doors open. The gusting wind raged into the chapel soon taking the life from all the lit candles. The Dremora slipped out into the night and disappeared. Just as the door shut, the Hero was embraced with the darkness of the chapel and even the darkness of his heart.

--_**TBC**_--

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**_I do hope you enjoyed. Not much fighting and such, just fillers and explainers, really. Anyways, R&R! I get very discouraged when I don't have as many reviews. It feels like no one likes the story anymore +tear+ _**


	19. The Elixirs of Life and Death

_**Fast Update? Yeah… you better Review for both chapters now since I gave you twice as much PWF: OFL. By the way, this is a---**_

_**WARNING**__**: there is a lot of romance coming up, for those who only read this for the action and suspense. Sorry if it seems too cliche or maybe cheesy. I don't know, I enjoyed it. I just hope you do too.**_

-+-

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The billowing clouds within the Oblivion sky clouded everything. The stars disappeared under a blanket of blackness and the Daedra began to retire to their quarters in hope that the new day would bring more thrill and excitement. Near the grand Watch Tower, Xilivicus walked with Elizabeth. The two were close together as the Churl presented her to every commander and lieutenant. She answered customary questions that they presented her with and when some of the more intolerant Daedra questioned her Xilivicus would step in and protect her. 

In one situation, the commander had gotten physical and attempted to harm the Elf. Xilivicus quickly intervened and calmed the soldier. As they parted, the Churl wrapped his arm around the girl and made certain that she would be safe.

They walked in the darkness and Elizabeth leaned her head upon his armor, catching the aroma of his hair which smelt like a roaring fire and his skin that smelt like an emerald forest. Her eyes fluttered and she moved even closer. The Churl pushed her away slightly and shook his head, "… we can't get close, Elizabeth."

"… Why not?" she inquired with a softened glare.

His lips pursed as he continued walking and knew that he did not want to plunge any further into that conversation. His heart began to shatter in his chest as he walked even farther from her. The maiden lowered her head as she pondered quietly to herself. Their footsteps became silent across the red sand of Oblivion. The waltzing wind pushed and pulled on the couple as they sauntered down the streets. Elizabeth's eyes cast up upon such marvelous structures like training facilities and dining halls. There were Daedric quarters for different levels of Daedra and even a Clannfear farm where they breed and harvested meat for meals.

The girl's ample eyes widened as she tried to take in all her surroundings. A few stray Daedra wandered the streets with nothing else to do. They watched fascinated as they caught a closer glimpse of the Cyrodiilic beauty. The Altmer pulled up her skirts and ran a little faster to catch up to Xilivicus. She looked up at him and questioned, "… where are we going?"

"To the Arch-Mage, Xarovica. He is the eldest of the Daedra. One of the first creations that Lord Dagon had ever constructed. After we speak with him then you may return to the watch tower and rest. Surely you need it for your day has been rather perturbing." The Churl had said while giving her a glance. He turned down a paved path that led to a great ebony tower where the Arch-Mage resided.

Elizabeth kept close as her guard pushed open the great door and guided her into the keep of the Mage's tower. It smelt of curious mixtures and burning incense. The maiden lifted her skirts as she ascended the triangular stairs that coiled around just like the old tower in the Oblivion of Kvatch. She followed Xilivicus and as they reached the next level of the tower she saw all assortments of ancient tomes both Daedric and Cyrodiilic. Incense hung from swinging golden plates that attached to the ceiling and walls. A few torches were lit and burning down to stubs.

The maiden looked over the gardens of books to see a very old Dremora sitting at a desk; fooling with alchemistic ingredients. His aged bronze skin gleamed in the firelight as he hunched over and observed the elements with those eyes who matched that of the Churl. His long horns twisted back in a ram's structure and his aged silver hair was pulled back into a loose bounding. Just as Xilivicus was to step upon the stone floor, the old rugged yet very inviting voice of the Dremora called out, "You best have clean boots before you walk all over my floors, Xilivicus, my boy."

"I do, sir," the Churl said with a soft smile. "Elder-Xarovica… this is—"

"—Elizabeth Asquerana the Altmer scholar… yes, I know." He pushed himself out of his seat leisurely for his old bones could hardly support him. His long Mythic Dawn robes cascaded past the floor as he glided around his desk and over to the girl. A great friendly smile pulled across his lips as he took her gentle petite hand and bowed to her. He lifted his eyes to her and said, "My, you are more beautiful then I could have imagined. You're keeping my son in line, aren't you?"

Elizabeth felt her muscles relax as this man set such a wonderful and pleasurable mood. "Yes, sir, I believe I am."

"Good… that is good…" the old man whispered while turning around and wobbling back to his desk. He sat down and sighed profoundly with a wide mouth. His jagged white teeth were poking out from underneath his lips. "So, why have you come to this ancient fossil, hmm?"

Xilivicus bowed respectively and as he rose he said, "Commander Broga demanded that I brought by Ms. Asquerana to all the Lieutenants and Commanders so they had a chance to ask any questions that might reveal more about Tamrial."

As the Churl told the Mage this, the old Dremora had hardly listened to a word. Instead, his erudite eyes were locked upon the maiden. Her structure and poise was so elegant and it had seemed that her posture was hinting at an almost desire or dream that she held within her heart. The old man's crooked fingernails caressed the edge of his chin as he watched the Altmer stare attentively at Xilivicus.

"… I believe I have a question for the girl," Xarovica said while leaning back in his stone throne. "This may have nothing to do with Broga's orders or even Tamrial, as a matter of fact. I want to know about your fascination with Daedra."

Elizabeth's curved long ears perked as she came to attention. Her pale cheeks flushed and she searched for the words that may answer his current inquiry, "I-I… I don't have…"

"Well," Xarovica chuckled while entwining his fingers together in a mesh. "You are staring quite a bit at our young Xilivicus, here. There must be some attraction in your fluttering heart."

The Churl furrowed his brow and glanced about curiously. He hadn't felt another heartbeat calling out to him, he sensed no other Daedra that may be eavesdropping their conversation and when he turned his eyes back to his elder he listened as Elizabeth protested, "I… I am paying close attention so that I will stay on subject and will… will be able to answer your questions p-precisely, sir." Her cheeks began to inflame.

Xarovica nodded solemnly and then turned his attention to Xilivicus with a soft smile. "Then what is your excuse for attempting to keep your gaze from our young Miss Asquerana?" The Churl tensed as he opened his mouth but was only hushed by his elder. Xarovica closed his eyes and grinned, "I might be an old man; however, that does not mean I can't tell when two people are interested in one another."

"W-we... that's absurd!" Xilivicus spat with wide frightened eyes. "I am merely her g-guard and nothing else, Elder-Xarovica."

Elizabeth tossed her eyes over to him with a twinge in her heart. She cast her eyes away and listened to the voices around her as they spoke together.

"Are you certain that there is no attraction between you?" the Elder questioned; fascinated.

"How can you accuse me of loving an Altmer? I-It is completely prohibited. It is one of the-"

"I'm interested in him," Elizabeth proclaimed truthfully with her eyes upon the Elder.

Xilivicus froze and felt his body tense. She had begun the confessing of one of the Forbidden Laws written by Lord Dagon himself. If Xarovica trapped Xilivicus inside the truth then the Churl would part from the maiden and be sent straight back to the dungeons. The elder nodded and smiled soon looking over to the Churl. "What say you to this, my son?"

With a dried mouth, the Churl attempted to conjure a lie; yet, it seemed completely futile. The Dremora closed his eyes and nodded, "… I say the same, Elder-Xarovica."

"That is what I feared," whispered the old man who leaned forward in his seat. "Just in case you had been worrying, I shan't report you to Lord Dagon. I am merely questioning this for the welfare of yourselves. A Mer and a Daedra are two unlike candidates to be together in any situation. With the war unfurling across the horizon, I fear that this love you claim to have will be tested through the hardest of fires. If you both make it through then there will be no stopping what you may have together. Therefore, this brings me to my next question; who all knows?"

Elizabeth bowed her head and answered, "My family and a few inside of Anvil…"

"… and Broga," added Xilivicus with a solemn gaze.

Xarovica rubbed his weary eyes with a heaved breathe, "This is not good, not good at all." The elder pushed himself from his seat to stand. "If Broga feels at all threatened he might report you to Dagon and this relationship will cease before it ever began." He chuckled lightly while lowered his head. "Listen to me, going on as if I were a counselor."

"What are we to do, sir? I am her demanded guard and I won't allow another Dremora to step in and take my place; especially if it were Broga." Xilivicus hissed with narrowed fiery eyes.

"The only thing you can do is rather secrete your feelings for one another during the morning light or escape out of Oblivion evermore. If you were to be caught you both would be executed or even worse."

"What is worse than death?" questioned Elizabeth with a cocked head and a lowered brow.

Xilivicus could feel his scars burn as he purred, "Believe me; there is far more dreadful."

The Elven maiden looked over to him; only images could appear in her head as she considered the worst of the events that could happen. She turned back to the elder and questioned, "… may I ask you a question, sir? About why I am here."

"Go ahead," he said with a short wave of his hand.

Elizabeth swallowed a lump in her throat as she questioned, "… why is it that Mehrunes needed _me_?"

"He needed someone to tell him all about Tamrial so that if he opened gates to both worlds that the scholar would lead his troops so that he may conquer and finally claim his birthright. I am a little surprised that it was someone as youthful as you; however, I suppose that it is in the Greater Plan of everything." Xarovica had said with a nod. His flaming eyes shifted over to the Churl and he saw the devastation and grief upon his darkened violet face. The Elder turned back to Elizabeth and said, "I am sorry to cut this short, my dear; nonetheless, it appears that I will need to speak with your guard. Would you be fine if I sent you off to the Watch Room with my summoned Atronach? It shan't cause you any trouble, but only guide you back to your room in the tower."

Elizabeth nodded and curtseyed respectively, "That would be perfectly fine, sir." She tossed her eyes to Xilivicus and her soft sweet gaze froze and turned to ice as she whispered, "Don't be long…"

"I won't, I promise." He whispered back to her.

Xarovica raised his hand and within his palm a violet orb appeared. Pink little orbs circled around his hand and before his desk a gargantuan Frost Atronach had appeared from thin air. Its frozen body gleamed in the torch light and it turned to the girl with obedience in its mind. Its limbs crunched as it took long slow strides soon leading the girl down and out of the tower.

Xilivicus bowed his head and whispered, "… is there truly a possibility that Elizabeth and I could live happily together?"

The elder remained quiet for a moment as he sauntered around his cluttered desk and to a shabby petite cupboard that held most of his alchemistic ingredients, remedies, and even poisons. "More and likely not, my son," he whispered. "Not while Daedric blood still flows through your veins. Daedra and mortals were never meant to be together. If it were not for your goddesses putting their hands into matters that did not concern them, you would not be in love with the maiden right now."

"Are you saying this is Mara and Dibella's doing? That they had planned this from the start? What if… what if it was destiny no matter who intended it?"

"Improbable," Xarovica groaned while opening the cabinet and sorting through all his little vials.

Xilivicus' muscles tensed and he lowered his gaze with a snarl, "What am I to do then?! No matter what we are bound by our own races and bloods that we should never be together! How am I to fall out of love with her? She is so… so angelic. She means everything to me, Xarovica, even more than Anaxes." The elder froze with his fingertips upon a vial. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the desperate plead of his brethren. "…please… Xarovica… there must be _something_… something that will allow us to be together."

"There is… something," hissed the old man. "But the chances of losing your life in the process are far greater than that of gaining the reward."

"It doesn't matter, please tell me." Begged the Churl.

Xarovica turned around and looked at Xilivicus; a grace façade overcoming him. "You truly love her that much? … To give your own life?"

"I have done it once, Elder-Xarovica; I will do it again if required." Xilivicus proclaimed while stepping closer.

The Mage let his heavy shoulders slumped as he turned back around and reached for two petite vials. One was the color of the Oblivion skies, while the other was the color of the towers. Xarovica walked over to Xilivicus and handed him the crimson vial. "This is a poison that will completely destroy any component of Daedra within you. It starts at your heart and works its way out. I invented it such a long time ago when I thought of attempting a certain form of suicide. I made an entire batch and gave it to Atronachs and studied their behavior afterwards. With the Storm it turned them into rocks; with the Frost it turned them into mere icicles; and with the Fire it simply turned it into just that—fire.

"I observed as it appeared that each Daedra was stripped of its Daedric characteristic and I feared that if a true Dremora would take it then they would be changed into a mortal being. Only Daedra with the strength of an entire flock of Daedroth could possibly take this poison and live to see the results. That is why I hid it. The second vial is the restoration potion. If you lived through the transformation and you wished to turn back this will poison you with a Daedric component that I found in sigil stones and even Daedra hearts. As I have said, the risks of taking this poison are extremely high and if you do perish then you will be abandoning Ms. Asquerana and forcing her to live in Oblivion alone… do you think you could let her live alone?"

"If I were dead or alive," Xilivicus purred, "she would still be forced to live alone."

Xarovica handed him the crimson vial with somber eyes. "May your goddesses give you strength, Xilivicus."

The Churl glanced down to the vial slumbering within his grasp. One sip and he might be a mortal just like Elizabeth, or he might be the reason for his own eternal death. He heard the ticking of a clock in his head as he looked back and forth between the two vials.

_Life. _

_Death_

_Life. _

_Death_

How it had seemed the odds were against him. He felt warmth in his heart and he closed his eyes tightly. He could feel Mara and Dibella by his side; encouraging him. He opened his eyes and pried the vial open. "… If I die," he said. "… Ask Elizabeth to forgive me." With that, he pushed the vial to his lips and drank the entire elixir.

-+-

The Frost Atronach disappeared just as Elizabeth walked into the Watch room. She glanced back and saw the fading crystal mist. Her heart fell as she walked further into the room with a deep sigh. All these burdens that piled down upon her shoulders finally began to pry her nerves and break them loose from her body. Her hands trembled for she knew the worst was to come. Her bright sky eyes lowered down to her dress and as she looked upon the Daedric designs she felt disgusted. She snarled as she twirled her arms behind her back and undid her corset herself. She tore it off and threw it across the room soon tearing each part of the dress off and lowering it to the floor until she stood in nothing but a black Daedra silk slip.

Her trembling hands reached up and pulled off the headdress and suddenly she felt cold tears cloud her eyes. All this pain and grief tore into her heart and destroyed what little hope she had left of ever leaving this realm. Her hair fell from the ponytail and waved down across her face. Some strands sticking into a trail of tears. Her fingertips reached up and wiped across her eyes and lips soon removing most of the charcoal. Some smeared; nevertheless, it was scarcely noticeable.

Coldness nipped at the girl's pale bare skin and she realized that the fire had completely died. She searched the room and finally found more firewood. She tossed it upon the dying embers and with a faltering fiery touch the logs consumed in flames and heat once again pulsed through the room. Elizabeth kneeled down before the fire; embracing herself. She sniffled every once and a while as she attempted to rid herself of this sadness which didn't seem to want to go away.

_What would the rest of the Asquerana family say if they knew I was courting with a Daedra in pursuit to marry him? I would be the fool of my entire name. If only they had never taken over Kvatch. If only… if only I would have… _she could hardly think straight for so many twisted emotions were fueling her soul and heart. She closed her eyes and wept silently into her hands.

The Watch room door opened and Elizabeth gasped soon tossing her eyes over to see who arrived. From the shadows of the being she saw two ram-like horns and her heart dropped. "…E-elder-Xarovica…?"

The man stepped from the darkness and she saw it was only the design of Xilivicus' helmet that he wore tightly upon his head. He walked silently into the room and the loss of words began to bring the worst scenarios from the maiden's heart. "Xilivicus," she whispered. "Are you alright?"

The Dremora lifted his gloved hands and removed his helmet from his head. Suddenly, the maiden felt her heart seize and her eyes widened as she looked upon Xilivicus' face. He looked like an Imperial man. His skin was sun kissed and his once fiery eyes now died down into a bright brown. His wild waved dark ginger hair pulled back from his face with only a few strands falling into his eyes. A grave look was upon his face as he kneeled down before Elizabeth. His dark thick eyebrows lined his diamond shaped eyes as he looked upon her. His pouted cherry lips opened as he questioned in a very rich Colovian voice, "… what… do you think?"

Awestruck; the maiden lifted her hand and caressed his soft tanned cheek. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply as she pushed her fingertips through his hair. She felt the roundness of his ear and laughed softly for no longer was it jagged and pointed like her own. "Is this… really you, Xilivicus?"

"Yes, it is I." He whispered to her soon pushing himself forward. His gleaming eyes absorbed onto her features as he looked at her. No longer had he felt the coldness of a Daedric heart within his chest or the burdens of attempting to prove himself worthy. "… Elizabeth…"

Her eyes lifted to his own as she listened closely to the words that fell from his lips. The fire light danced around them and warmed them even further. "…yes?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat and leaned forward soon pressing his lips against hers. His hand cupped her cheek and he could hear her soft gasp and feel her heart fluttering beneath her breast. Elizabeth's hands raised and unhooked the cuirass from her lover's body. She pulled it over his head and placed it aside. His moist torso revealed underneath. The man leaned forward and soon pressed Elizabeth down upon the floor, his bulk hovering over hers as he looked her over with love and adoration in his eyes.

He lowered himself and kissed her tenderly. One of his hands anchored him while the other stroked her side feeling the softness of the silk and the warmth of her skin hidden underneath. Their breaths fused together as they exchanged many guiltless kisses by the side of the untamed unfurling fire. The firewood popped and cracked every few minutes bringing even more warmth to the admiring couple. As they departed from one another's lips, Xilivicus stroked his fingertips through her long silver hair, gazing deeply within her eyes as he purred, "… when this war is over… and we return to Cyrodiil… you and I shall be wed and together we shall build a life and family."

The Altmer nuzzled him amiably and with a hushed voice she said, "I do not want to wait that long, Xilivicus. For too long have we hid in the shadows about the desires of our hearts. Let us finally cross that bridge and never glance back."

"Are you certain you want this?" he purred as he hovered over her. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Once we have we cannot turn back from there."

"Yes," said she, "I know."

The former-Dremora nodded and lowered himself soon kissing her sincerely. Their lips merged and their hearts had beat as one. His trembling hand lowered itself as he removed the rest of his armor and pushed it aside soon preparing himself for the entwining ballet of love's duet. The roaring fire's heat had nothing compared to that of the man and his lover. Sweat dripped from their bodies as they merged together and finally confessed how severely they had felt for one another.

Their stripped bodies shimmered in the adjacent firelight that loomed over their shoulders and shrouded them in a mantle of heat. Their fingertips gripped and seized as the night had carried on into the early morning. For once in their lives they felt their happily ever after finally writing itself in their live stories.

But when did Happily Ever After… truly exist?

-+-

With a deep sigh, Broga ascended the Watch room staircase. His muscles were tough and torn for he had sprinted from Bruma to the nearest Oblivion gate where he could make his way back to Dagon's plane. He pushed back his sweat drenched locks from his face. He quickly pushed his hand against the sliding door of the second level door and pushed it open. "It seems that I have good news from..." he stopped and became motionless. His eyes widened and his pupils disappeared among the pools of blood.

_... It's you ..._

--_**TBC**_--

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**_So sorry if you didn't like how it played out. Go ahead and review me and tell me how much you hated it S This is probably going to be the only completely lovey-dovey chapter I will have. I do hope you enjoyed. _**


	20. The Encounter of Blood Brothers

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With a deep sigh, Broga ascended the Watch room staircase. His muscles were tough and torn for he had sprinted from Bruma to the nearest Oblivion gate where he could make his way back to Dagon's plane. He pushed back his sweat drenched locks from his face. He quickly pushed his hand against the sliding door of the second level door and pushed it open. "It seems that I have good news from..." he stopped and became motionless. His eyes widened and his pupils disappeared among the pools of blood.

_... It's you..._

Before Broga stood a nude beautiful female Altmer. Her head twirled around as she heard a voice from the door. Her silver locks twisting and glittering in the firelight. Her pale skin shined like crystal. Her eyes widened and she pulled a heavy black blanket, which Xilivicus had fetched for her before he left for Elder-Xarovica's tower, over herself soon hiding her slender physique. She spun around in embarrassment and closed her eyes tightly soon hissing, "… I… I didn't know you returned, Commander." Her voice was faltering and her cheeks began to inflame.

"… Earlier than expected," he purred with eyes still glued upon her. His body still immobilized as this newfound desire began to crawl across his mind like a poison running through his veins. His lips parted slightly and beneath his pure onyx skin were whitened jagged teeth.

Finally, the man had pushed his hand behind him and closed the door very unhurriedly. His eyes were still upon the maiden as he stalked forward and looked her over, "… I… hadn't interrupted you, had I?"

"No," she gripped the blanket tighter while stepping around the fireplace in hopes to escape the following man. "I… was just changing."

Broga glanced over the calm fire with interested eyes. He tilted his head and licked his parched lips as he questioned, "Why were you changing? You looked flawless within the dress that Velthada had attained for you."

"I couldn't possibly well sleep in it. So I changed out of it and… and Xilivicus had found me a Mage's robe to wear for today." She has explained while pulling the blanket tighter around her body.

Broga felt a twinge of fear as he had heard his brethren's name, for he had forgotten all about him when he had observed the pure natural beauty of the Altmer. Scenarios began to flood his mind and he questioned most simply, "Where _is_ our dear Xilivicus?"

"He has left for Elder-Xarovica's tower… he had mentioned something about finding me a serving of food before I went off on my second round to the commanders," answered Elizabeth as she walked towards the grand window that overlooked much of this realm.

An uncontrollable smirk coiled over the commander's lips as his heart had been contaminated with this poison. As those unfeeling crimson eyes overlooked the girl Broga had abandoned morals and stepped around the fire. The sweat upon his brow began to freeze in these artic realms. The Dremora approached the woman from behind soon allowing a black slithering claw to round her hip and pinch at the cloth of the blanket. His other claw lifted and caressed past her bare snow-white neck soon seizing another part of the mantle.

Elizabeth's heart seized as she felt his black jagged nails stroked past her skin allowing petrified chills to roll through her bones. She pulled back away from his hands and found herself pressed against his torso. His head leaned down and she could feel his hot breathe pour over her shoulder in a whisper, "Don't fret, my dear."

"B-Broga," she wheezed while jerking the blanket from his grasp and escaping his clutches. She spun around and looked up into his fiery eyes. "… Stop, I don't… I can't."

"Oh, but you can," he chuckled; pursuing her. "I suppose that you are frightened to hurt _him_. He is a Daedra; he has no heart to break, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and her teeth were lightly clenched as she hissed back, "He has more heart than you have."

An eerie dominant smirk was held upon his shadowy face as he looked down upon this Elf. A chuckle came from his parted lips and he purred through razor-teeth, "… and that… I'm proud of."

The great black Dremora disappeared in a blur as he dashed forward soon seizing Elizabeth. The maiden gasped as she was forced backwards. Her hair danced into her face like a snowy inferno. Suddenly, she felt her back slam against a rough wall that had nearly knocked the breath from her. Her vision was blurred and when she had realized what was happening she felt fear reign in her heart.

Broga had pinned her against the wall while lifting her off the floor a foot or so. His gargantuan figure still hunched over hers as he had pressed his torso against hers. With one arm he had held her up against the wall while his other hand began to remove the blanket that encased her like a cocoon. Elizabeth pleaded and squirmed as he took the endeavor to disrobe her. Her nails dug into his skin; nonetheless, he hadn't stopped. She lifted her hand and suddenly electricity ran through her palm and lifted to her fingertips. Just as she was about to strike him with this spell, his hand flew up and gripped her wrist soon pulling it far above her head and slamming it upon the wall. She gasped and arched her back as her muscles pulled.

"Tisk, tisk," he purred with a chuckle, "There will be none of _that_."

"Let me go, you barbaric, foolish, wicked monster!" She cried out in pain and fright.

His head lowered as he laughed at her insult. "Relax, my dear, I'll be gentle." She whimpered as he pressed his lips against her neck and suckled there. His teeth bit lightly into her skin allowing a few droplets of blood to roll out onto his dark maroon tongue. The sweetness overpowered his senses and—

His eyes ripped open.

That aroma; he had sensed it before. His lips parted from her skin and his sharp nose pressed against her cheek as he inhaled deeply. She clutched her eyes shut as she could hear him breathe. Broga's nostrils began to burn as that aroma pierced his senses. It was causing him pain to even be near this maiden. The odor forced him away, for it was doing its job by marking its territory. The black Dremora's muscles tightened and his bulk grew firm as his eyes narrowed. The bloody pools began to burn and his entire eye turned into a fiery pulsing color. He appeared to be possessed.

Elizabeth looked upon him; fearing her safety. He looked raged and overwhelmed by lunacy. His unoccupied claw seized the blanket harshly and tore through it. The fabric screamed as it was being shredded to pieces. The Altmer attempted to hold up the blanket; however, it was no use. Most of her torso was exposed. This exposure hadn't fueled Broga's lust; it had fueled his hatred.

Through his eyes he had been able to use a sixth sense that would locate territories that other males had claimed. His eyes scanned over her marked body and his eyes burned even harder. Slowly, he glanced behind him and saw that near the fireplace he could see the same marked area that also was upon the maiden. His claw seized her wrist even tighter as he became very angered. "… In this very room, too," his ominous voice hissed. His eyes emitted back at the maiden as he purred, "… where did you say… _he_ was again?"

"I won't let you hurt him, Broga." She spat with narrowed eyes.

"If you won't tell me, then I'll just follow your stench… he should be completely _covered_ in it." Broga sneered. From his grasped claw came an envious green fog. Elizabeth tossed her eyes up and suddenly she could no longer move. The Dremora had paralyzed her and now there would be no way that she could protect Xilivicus. He dropped her and her lifeless body hit the floor as she watched him turn and storm across the room and soon out of the grand watch tower; his mind plotting a massacre.

-+-

The door to Xarovica's tower slowly opened and Xilivicus had slithered in. A black strip of fabric had been wrapped around his head and blocked out most of his skin. A hefty black hood was drawn up and it was virtually impossible to distinguish him with merely a glance. The Churl sprinted up the stairs and quickly came to the Elder's keep. His eyes scanned the room desperately and he found his elder standing upon a stool; reaching for a book high upon the shelf.

Elder-Xarovica glanced over his shoulder and smiled brightly. "Is that you, Xilivicus, my boy?"

The Churl removed his hood and pulled the fabric from his mouth as he replied, "… I… I think I have done something rash."

With a grimace; Xarovica stepped from the stool and walked over to his brethren. "What is it, son?"

The young Dremora's wide eyes shuffled back and forth as he searched for the words. Last night, when he had lain with Elizabeth, he had transformed into someone new. With the morning's light, his consciousness had returned to its old form and now looking back upon it he had felt contempt and an almost infuriation. He had been so eager to be with her that he had forgotten the consequences of his actions. With a lowered head, Xilivicus confessed to his crime.

Xarovica's once calm ember eyes had exploded into a raging inferno. His hands clenched together and his own head fell in shame. When Xilivicus had finished, his Elder glared up and spat, "Do you understand what you may have just done?! You have jeopardized Elizabeth's life, your life, and possibly even mine! I had expected you to handle this situation with much more responsibility, Xilivicus!"

"I know, Elder-Xarovica, I know." His head remained bowed for he felt more and more shame for every second that the commander held his eyes upon him. "I don't know what had become of me… I… I… just wanted to show her how much I… loved her."

"By doing this to her, you have proved nothing but how ignorant you are," Xarovica scolded while storming to his desk and searching for the revival vial. "Possibly you are not yet ready to carry the burden of being a human. You must revert to Daedric form before Broga returns to our planes. If he were to see you like this…" he faded off with sadness looming on his dark tongue. "… I couldn't bear to think what might happen to either you or the Altmer."

There was silence between them. Xilivicus lifted his eyes and softly he questioned, "… you do not think that I may have…"

"In Dagon's name you better not have," Xarovica snarled. "That would only complicate our situation."

"Xarovica, please, allow me to be human. I will find a way to sneak Elizabeth from this realm safety." The Churl pleaded.

"No," Xarovica denied while picking the vial up. "Once Broga returns, his first ambition would be to find you and Elizabeth."

Xilivicus' muscles tensed as he faced his elder completely and lowered his head, "… what if Broga has already returned? What if… he's already in the Watch Tower and has seen Elizabeth?"

Xarovica's face grew grim as he looked to his brethren. "We shall speak again tonight, Xilivicus. Bring Elizabeth and yourself here to my tower and we shall see what I can do about the… state of affairs."

The Elder walked around his desk and handed out the vial to his brother. A grave smile pulled across his lips and he told him, "Do what you think is right, my son. Until Tonight…"

"Until Tonight," repeated the Churl who held the vial snugly in his clutch and promptly slid it into a pocket in his robe.

Xilivicus masked his face again and bounded down the stairs soon escaping the tower's confinements. His eyes shifted across the scarce area that he had to see as he tried to assure himself that Elizabeth was fine. Just as he was to enter upon the street, a black form seized his firm neck and ripped him away from the path. Xilivicus' vision blurred and his body had ceased to feel. On the spur of the moment, he was thrown through the air and just as he collided with the sharp jagged rocks he felt a pounding pain. He rolled across the ground sending up an enraged dust cloud.

He coughed for all the wind had been pushed from his lungs upon impact. His trembling hands positioned themselves upon the soil and soon lifted Xilivicus' heavy body. With his hand he had lifted his hood slightly to see the towering figure of Broga standing right beside him. His structure hardened with hatred as those merciless eyes fell down and pierced his soul. His veins bulged of vengeance and he lifted his foot back and with one fervent strike the Churl's body lifted once more back into the air and spun round.

Xilivicus' eyes shook as he hit the ground once again. He pulled up hurriedly allowing no more time for his master to heartlessly beat him. His bones were bruised and as his eyes fell upon this monster; fear flooded his heart and choked him instantly as if he were drowning within its embrace. Broga had never alarmed him before; yet, with just one glance it seemed with this human body came a human heart which appeared to fear these Daedric beings.

"I follow _her_ stench and this is what I find," chuckled the black Dremora who began to walk closer. His grin disappeared and a hateful sneer took its place. "…a useless and pathetic structure of a Dremora cowering upon the ground before me."

"Broga," wheezed Xilivicus who quickly took a few steps back with a trembling stance, "p-please… calm yourself!"

His body tensed as he stalked across the harsh land. His claws were trembling with a restrained malice. His eyes burned and his consciousness had turned to ashes as the instincts of a wild beast controlled him. He threw back his robe and from his great belt he drew a Daedric longsword. It flipped in his hand and the beast snarled, "Fight back!"

With a merciless blow, Xilivicus had no longer felt his arm. Terrified; he had looked down to see merely a deep slash across his shoulder. He stumbled back in pain and grasped his burning arm. His eyes clenched and when they had opened he could see the wound boil like lava. His body shook as he had realized that the longsword was enchanted just like every one of Broga's many weapons. Blood rolled over Xilivicus' hand and stained every part of his torso. "I don't want… t-to fight you, Broga!"

A sinister chuckle came from the abyss of his throat as he let the bloodied tip of his sword drag across the soil, a long slithering trail of crimson following after it. The jagged tip became polluted with Oblivion's soil. Broga lifted his sword and balanced the blade upon his shoulder as he came closer to his brethren. His eyes were slits as he spat between clenched jagged teeth, "Obey me, Churl, and fight back!"

"No," said the Churl who stood audaciously. "I cannot fight you."

Broga's body hardened and he tossed his sword aside. The metal flipped across the ground and lied lifeless many feet away. The black Dremora roared as he charged and quickly tackled his brother to the ground. Dust flew and hurriedly, Broga lifted a claw. His jagged long black nails looked like daggers as he brought them down upon his brother and sliced away at his flesh that hid underneath his heavy clothes torso. Xilivicus flinched and forced Broga upon his back. The Commander lifted his feet and placed them upon Xilivicus' stomach. With one great thrust, the Churl had flown backwards and rolled across the ground once again.

A smirk pulled across grey cracked lips as Broga placed his hands behind his head and as he rolled back upon his upper back he pushed himself into the air and quickly flew up and landed on his feet causing a tremor to rush through the cracks of the soil. A few Daedra flooded onto the streets to watch in awe as there was a combat between the former councilman, Xilivicus, and the great warrior, Broga.

Xarovica exited his tower and watched in dismay as he could see Xilivicus trying his hardest to conceal his identity for if Broga's anger had dissipated and he was able to see clearly and he found out about Xilivicus' mortality, he would surely execute him. Across the pathway, Velthada crawled out and watched in horror. She attempted to push pass the growing crowd; nevertheless, she couldn't make it through. She cried out the Churl's name; however, it seemed futile. Her silver eyes lifted and she looked around swiftly seeing not of the maiden named Elizabeth. She glanced back and quickly she had bounded over a few Daedra and climbed across the walls of a tower as she headed for the Watch Room.

Strike after strike had pounded down upon the Churl's body and soon he became even too weak to stand and drenched within a mixture of blood and prespiration. Broga walked over to his motionless body and overlooked him. His dark brow had been dampened with sweat and his mouth raised and fell as he heaved breaths in and out. "Let me look upon the face… of the betrayer… as I release him unto death." Broga had kneeled down and wrapped his firm chiseled hand around Xilivicus' dark collar. As he seized it and pulled him into the air, he could hardly see his skin under the hood. With a suspicious gaze, he seized the hood with his unoccupied hand and ripped it away from the man's face.

Gasps ran like wildfire through the gathering Daedra as they had looked upon their brethren's face to see pale human flesh and the precise essence of a mortal. Broga's eyes widened in shock and he could feel the world around him fade into darkness as he was captivated by those human eyes. Xilivicus looked upon his rival with defeated eyes, "K-Kill me, brother," he whispered through pouted cherry lips. "It is, afterall, what I do deserve."

Xarovica pushed through the crowd allowing his elbows to brush against armored Daedra and even some Clannfears and Daedroth. As he got close enough he had lifted his hand and with two fingers he had pointed at Broga and from his fingertips came a jolt of lightning. It coiled through the air and struck the Commander upon the shoulder. The electricity pulsed through his arm and loosened his nerves. With a snarl, he dropped his brethren and his fierce eyes turned over to his elder.

"Harm not your fellow blood, Broga," demanded Xarovica who advanced with narrowed angered eyes. "Or shall you be harmed sevenfold in return."

"Demand naught of me, you old fool. This is between me and this…" his eyes fell down to Xilivicus, "… this _monstrosity_… yet… the only person capable of this much alteration in one's appearance that lives upon these planes would be you. Possibly, you can enlighten me on the matter."

Xarovica's fiery eyes calmed as he glanced down upon the wounded Xilivicus. He was loosing a fair amount of blood and would soon be unconscious because of it. The Elder lifted his gaze and looked over to a few guards standing in the crowd, "Xayah… Payem… take him to the dungeons and see to it that the Spider-Daedra Velthada nurses him back to health; quickly now he hasn't much time."

The guards rushed over to the mortal and lifted him easily. As they had lifted him, from his pocket a slightly cracked bottle had slipped out and fell softly into the Oblivion sand. The crowd dissipated and all that remained was Broga and the Elder-Xarovica. Their eyes were matched and their hearts held contempt. The great black Dremora lifted his head and questioned, "… was it you that transformed him into this… thing?"

"Yes, it was I. I thought it possible to ensure Xilivicus a normal life if I were to give him that elixir of life. Now it seems I have only doomed him to death." Xarovica whispered with a bowed head.

Broga crossed his burly arms and heaved a sigh. His mind was racing with so many thoughts and plans he hadn't much time to compile questions for his Elder. His narrowed crimson eyes became slits as he had hissed, "Your insubordination to Lord Dagon could well cost you your life as a Commander, or even possibly your life as a Daedra, yet you deemed it wise to partake in such a revolt."

"Times have changed from what I used to know, Broga. You have not been around as long as I and you would surely think the same. Dagon's mind has been corrupted and I shan't stand by and watch him allow this realm fall into its own spiraling abyss!" Xarovica snorted while turning his eyes away. "I had to do something."

"So you changed one of us into human?" Broga snorted.

"I gave a Dremora his happily ever after. You and I both know that Xilivicus wants nothing more than to be by Elizabeth's side forever and for always. He would sacrifice everything for her and from observing current events it seems he already has… Xilivicus is strong willed and pushed to certain limits he can accomplish anything. If given over to the mortal realm I had thought he could put his powers into revolting against our empire and forcing the realms of Tamerial and Oblivion to be separate as it should have been the day Dagon claimed himself Prince."

There was silence as Broga merely watched his Elder. He turned away and glanced to the horizon that was just as bloody as the soil scattered across the ground. "… Tamerial will fall… the heir shall lie dead at the feet of Dagon… Oblivion shall conquer…"

Upon the ground glittered the cracked vial, Xarovica's attention was turned towards it as Broga spoke. The Elder rushed over and fell upon his old worn knees and just as he was to reach for it, Broga's hefty boot fell down upon the Elder's wrist. Xarovica snarled and glared up to see the great black Dremora who spat, "… and Xilivicus and Elizabeth shall be no more…"

"What will you do? You cannot kill him. As long as he is within this realm he shall be protected. It is against Dagon's laws to harm one of our own blood brothers."

"Oh, but Xilivicus is not our blood brother," Broga purred while reaching down and picking up the vial. "… He's _mortal_."

Xarovica's eyes stormed with anxiety as Broga grasped the bottle and allow the glass to shatter in his clutches. The black liquid rushed out over his fingertips and as he drew open his hands he let the glass shards fall lifelessly to the ground. The Elder looked at these fallen shards and his hopes had fallen with them.

"Xilivicus shall join my side," Broga proclaimed.

"What makes you so sure? What makes you think he'd ever obey you again?" wheezed the Elder.

"Because… I have the only thing that he has left," Broga turned and began walking down the path. Xarovica watched him desperately and his body became petrified as the black Dremora snarled through clenched teeth, "… his _heart_."

--_**TBC**_--

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**_READ AND REVIEW! I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. Everything from now on will be leading to the great war at Bruma. Only a few more chapters left and this story shall be no more. :( _**


	21. The Death of Love: The forged Letter

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**_I had the creepest dream that Vaermina (the Daedric Prince of Nightmares) came into my dream and asked if I wanted to help her and right when I said ok she turned my dream into a nightmare with zombies and monsters and they all were after me. Scary. Anyways, new installment. I'll only write the next chapter when I get_ 7 reviews _for this chapter. Enjoy!

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-+-

She sobbed heavily as she lay upon the cold limestone floor. Her tears froze upon her pale cheeks and with trembling fingers she gripped the tattered blanket and pulled it tighter across herself.

_He's going to die… he's going to die and it's all my fault. If… if only I would have succumbed to Broga when he had first demanded. If… if I just… By the Nine… what have I gotten myself into? _Elizabeth's mind raced as she could feel all the blame piling down upon her shoulders. The consequences of her actions were finally catching up to her as she had realized precisely what she has done _My innocence… my purity… given away to a Daedra. My Gods, what have I done? Is this my punishment… for loving someone who was constructed to cause harm upon your people? Have I forsaken my family and Tamerial? _Her mind became clouded and she could feel her heart beginning to freeze like the tears upon her cheeks. Was she truly in love with Xilivicus or was it just an excuse to go against the plans of her father and mother?

As she was trapped within the confinement of her thoughts, she began to hear thunderous footsteps leading up the grand stairs. Her heart seized and her head pivoted to look at the grand door. Broga had returned. Had he returned to boast of his latest kill? Had he returned to finish what he had started? Possibly, he had returned to finish her off as well! Petrified she was in the spot she laid. Her heart racing like a thunderstorm upon a shattering sea. Her eyes shifting wildly in hopes to find an escape route if essential.

The door had been pushed open and that gargantuan figure stalked into the room—but wait… that was not the Dremora. Velthada entered slowly with pitiful eyes. Her nails caressed past the stone walls as she called out; unsure, "… Elizabeth…?"

The Altmer lifted her heavy head with tears lingering in her eyes. Her rounded nose was as red as her heated cheeks. No words were needed between her and the spider. As those wide sapphire gems lifted and shone upon Velthada, she could feel her heart fall into darkness. The Spider sheltered a grimace as she raced over on her slender long jagged legs with a soft whisper, "Oh, Elizabeth! Who had done this to you?"

The maiden whimpered in embarrassment and as she lifted the base of her hand to her eyes she hissed lightly, "…B…B…"

Velthada's silver eyes flashed with lightning and she shook her head with a light Daedric cruse falling from those pouted black lips. She hurriedly lifted herself and shifted her eyes all around the room. She dashed to a cupboard and pulled open the aged doors soon finding a few accessories. She pulled out a mammoth black tunic and quickly made her way back to the Elven girl. The Spider slipped the tunic over the girl's head and pulled it down around her body.

She discarded of the tattered blanket and quickly fetched her undergarments. The tunic had appeared to be a dress upon the Elf for it belonged to the great black Dremora, Broga. Velthada fit the tunic to the girl's body and as she was sewing the neckline with her thread and one of the spines upon her attire, Elizabeth questioned, "… do you know… w-what happened to Xilivicus?"

Velthada's eyes iced over with isolation as she replayed the moments of torture that Broga had inflicted upon the Churl's body. She had seen how harsh his blows were and how Xilivicus looked so lifeless. The Spider-Daedra bowed her head and before she could answer, a guard rushed into the watch room. His face masked behind a helmet. His voice was harsh as he exclaimed, "Velthada… you are needed in the dungeons. Xilivicus has lost a great amount of blood. You must aid him back to health; Broga's Orders."

Elizabeth's heart shattered and she turned into a statue as the world around her began to fade to black. Her head slowly fell as she began to fear the worse. Velthada quickly rose and rushed to the door with a pale and rather terrified face. The Altmer stumbled to her feet and just as she was about to follow; Velthada turned and demanded, "Stay here, Elizabeth! You would be useless in the dungeons."

"No," she cried out with tears rolling down her cheeks, "I will go! I have… I have to go! Xilivicus may _die_… and it's all my fault. P-Please," she whimpered as her tensed shoulders fell, "Let me go with you."

"…I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," Velthada whispered with sorrowful eyes. She turned to the guard and demanded, "Lock the door after me, make sure she doesn't leave here." Elizabeth cried out in protest and the guard promptly followed the orders.

The Spider-Daedra slipped through the threshold of the door and right after she had left the guard locked the door making sure nothing had gotten in as well as out. As Velthada descended the stairs she could hear Elizabeth tearful moans echoing behind her. Her head bowed and she knew that this was for the best.

-+-

The mountain skies were clouded with dark clouds and a thick sheet of snow began to cascade down upon the land in a never-ending cycle. The grand gates to Cloud Ruler Temple were frozen with beautiful icicles binding it shut. Within the temple, the Hero stalked the halls rather quickly. His silver longsword now replaced with the Daedric Claymore that was hidden behind his long dragging cape. His brow was dampened with sweat as he could feel two sides battle within him. On one side, he wished to rid the world of evil and give Elizabeth what she truly deserved; yet, the other side of him wanted nothing more than to please himself.

His tired woodland eyes closed as she stopped in the threshold of the main room. He heaved a sigh and as he opened his eyes he could see Martin still hunched over that damned book. Jerald was sitting before him; reading some of the text himself. Caldwyn and Orrick were sitting before the grand roaring fire, speaking matters with each other and…

The Hero shifted his glance and while walking into the room he inquired of one of the twins; which he hadn't known. "…where is your brother? The elder one…"

Orrick and Caldwyn lifted their eyes and turned towards the Hero. They frowned and together they had shrugged. The Hero glanced over to Lord Asquerana and he stalked over; repeating the question. The old Altmer lifted his sapphire eyes with a miniscule amount of uncertainty. Martin flipped another golden parchment over as he answered the question, "Grandmaster Jaufree has taken him to the training room. Daelon had been begging for lessons before we had headed off to our final battle."

The Hero narrowed his eyes while looking back to the Altmer, "You have decided to partake in this war?"

"Not, I," Jerald explained while leaning back in his worn chair. He glanced to his sons with frightened eyes as he purred, "… but my sons."

The Hero looked over his shoulder at the twins. His brow furrowed as he began to wonder just how young they were. They were; afterall, the youngest of all. Elizabeth was the middle child and Daelon was the eldest at twenty-three. Jerald could sense the doubt and as he looked back to his sons he had murmured, "… they'll be sixteen this spring. Old enough to decide if they want to fight for Tamerial, I suppose. I pray that they stay safe."

"… No one is safe," the Hero muttered while watching the boys before the fire. They were so young. He turned towards the doors with a scorned heart. His gloved hand caressed the designs upon the hilt of the claymore. His eyes narrowed and he purred lightly, "… if you need me I shall be in Bruma… I need to rest."

Martin lifted his head and with a scowl he questioned, "… are you sure you are alright? From the looks of it, I would say all this pressure is really piling down upon you."

"… It is," purred the knight as he lowered his head.

With a short head nod, Martin looked back to his books and proclaimed, "Rest then, dear friend… you are no good to us if you are completely worn down and deprived of energy."

The Hero nodded and just as he turned and walked to the door he heard Martin call off to him, "Dear friend… do what is best."

He stopped. His head bowed and as he wrapped his hands around the handles of the door he purred, "Do what is best… if only it were that simple." He hoisted the doors open and slipped out into the dreary day.

-+-

The guards eyed the spider as she moved easily through the dungeons with a few vials in one hand and a long folded wrap of bondages. The golden torches were the only thing that lit her way in all this shrouded darkness. She stepped into a torture room and found Xilivicus unconscious upon a long wooden table. One of the guards stood by his side in case matters had turned to the worse. Velthada dismissed him and watched as he left. The spider turned back to the mortal with pained eyes.

"… What have you done to yourself, dear brother?" She crawled near and quickly unclothed him to see how fatal the wounds might have been.

Her fingertips were careful as they danced across the wounds and pulled at them to see how deep and how extended they were. The Churl gave off a pained groan as he began to stir and come to life. Velthada's narrowed silver eyes lifted to his own and she hushed him as he attempted to speak. "… be silent… do not waste your energy in words."

Xilivicus leaned his head back and swallowed a dry lump in his throat. His mouth fell agape and all that he could do was lie there silently as she inspected his abrasions. He clenched his teeth and eyes shut as she pried into his wounds and removed chunks of dirt and rock that had been lodged in there during the fight. His fingertips dug into the wood of the table attempted to calm his broken nerves. Velthada wiped away the dried blood with a damp bondage and just as she was to move on to the next wound her eyes lifted and she purred, "That was a brave thing you did back there… very _foolish _and _startling_, but brave all the same."

"Brave?" he croaked while tossing his eyes to her. "What part… of being tortured… was brave?"

She smiled as with the same spine that she used to sew Elizabeth's tunic she began to sew together his mortal wounds, "The part where even in this mortal state you stood up to Broga and did not cry and moan like other mortal men would have."

Xilivicus closed his eyes and with a cottonmouth he inquired, "… w-where is Elizabeth?"

Velthada narrowed her eyes and sighed deeply, "… I did not want to subject her to this situation. I feared that matters might take a turn for the worse and that she would have to witness yet another death."

"Only for a while… I would—" He stopped and frowned. No, he wouldn't return. He had forgotten that he was mortal now and no longer was he burdened with immortality.

Velthada poured some of the potion into the deepest of his wounds and watched as it very leisurely began to heal. She continued sewing and quickly wrapped the black bondage around his shoulder. Her eyes lifted again to the man and she wondered aloud, "What are you to do now that Broga has returned and Elizabeth shall be his once again?"

There was silence and Velthada had taken this as his answer. She smoothed down the bondage and purred lightly, "… Xarovica had aided in this transformation, hadn't he?"

"Is it that obvious?" Xilivicus inquired.

Velthada laughed lightly and nodded, "Yes, it is."

Xilivicus closed his eyes and shook his head, "I thought that maybe this would bring Elizabeth and I closer together, but it seems like it's only driving us farther apart."

The Spider remained silent as she finished pouring the potion within his cuts. Her eyes lifted and she whispered lightly, "Maybe it is time to face the fact, Xilivicus. She… is an _Altmer_. You are… a _Dremora_. Your appearance might have changed; nonetheless, the blood flowing through those veins leading to that same old heart are still Daedric. You can't keep holding onto a fairytale forever."

"Do you think I don't know that?" He spat while pushing himself up; ignoring the throbbing pain within his abdomen and his splitting wounds which poured out fresh blood. "Do you think that I don't know? I have dreamed for a love like this ever since…" He faded off with eyes falling down to the floor.

"… ever since Anaxes?" Velthada whispered into the torch lit room.

Xilivicus closed his eyes and snarled, "… I loved Anaxes and she was taken from me. I won't let that happen… not again."

A warm porcelain hand fell upon Xilivicus' hand. His eyes fell to the Spider who looked at him with those grief-stricken eyes. She caressed his soft flesh upon the back of his hand as she whispered, "… you rather forfeit her to a greater and happier life… or you allow her to fall into misery as she must deal with a Daedra being her husband and the father of her children. Xilivicus, my dear, you must think of her happiness before your own. Imagine how exiled she shall feel when she walks down the streets with a Daedra by her side. She'll be a complete pariah to her own race."

Xilivicus bowed his head as he purred, "… the only way I would give her up, is if I gave up my life as well."

Velthada held strongly onto her brethren's hand. Her eyebrows fell over her eyes as she scolded him, "Do not say such things. There are other ways."

"I have taken a part of her that I can't return, Velthada," Xilivicus confessed with a glare, "How selfish and uncaring can I be to her? By lying with her I have vowed to be by her until death do we part."

Velthada opened her mouth in response; however, she felt a cold chill run down her spine and she knew they were not alone any longer. Her back tensed and she pursed her lips. With a melodious singsong voice she called out, "Privacy should be esteemed; not rejected," Her head turned and a scornful gleam twinkled in her eyes as she hissed, "Commander Broga."

The black Dremora chuckled as he stepped from the darkness and entered the room. "Authority should be cherished, Velthada, not loathed."

Velthada lifted up onto her legs and faced the Commander with folded arms. "Show me an authority worth cherishing and I shall see what I can do."

Broga grinned while stepping out of the path to the threshold. "If you don't mind, dear sister, I would like a word with Xilivicus."

The Spider glanced back to the Churl with saddened eyes, "… think of what I had said, Xilivicus. Your way isn't the only way; remember that." She gave one final glance to Broga as she rushed out and disappeared in the shadows.

Broga grinned as she left and he walked over to the table; overlooking his brethren. His face grew earnest and he sighed genuinely while surveying all the wounds he had brandished to the Churl. "Oh, Xilivicus," he heaved another sigh as he had leaned upon the table side, "look at the pain that I have caused you. Pardon me for being so impulsive earlier. I… I hadn't taken the surprise as well as others might have."

Xilivicus turned his head away as he questioned in a low snarl, "Why have you come here, Broga, to issue a halfhearted apology? You know that I won't accept that."

"Alas," he said with a furrowed brow, "I had expected as much. Oh well, there are other matters I wish to discuss that involve your bonny lass, Elizabeth."

"I don't wish to speak of her now," the Churl said while lowering his torso and lying back down upon the table.

Broga furrowed his brow and walked over to the head of the table, looking at his brother's face. His lips pursed and he exclaimed, "Do you not see what she is doing to us, brother? She is driving our realms apart! Ever since she appeared on these realms she has brought us to our knees and forced us to fight like common gladiators."

"Your lust and anger are causing us to fight, Broga." Xilivicus had said while opening his eyes and glaring up at the Dremora.

"Yes, I suppose that I'm not helping the situation." The Commander leaned his elbows down upon the table while overlooking the wounds. "What was the cause for these wounds, brother? I am the one who had delivered them; however, I didn't do this all on my own. I know how much you love her, brother. I would allow you two to be together, but it seems that I am stepping in as the father here when I tell you that she is no good for you."

"Stop your lies, Broga. I'm getting sick of hearing them all the time," spat the Churl.

"I am not lying," the Commander protested, "I am merely trying to prevent a great heartbreak. We all know that you can't be with Elizabeth, yet you are still attempting to be with her. If your love builds to great amounts you shall be welcoming your own misery when it comes to you letting her go."

There was silence and Broga knew that he had begun to open his brother and his words were now successfully entering his mind for comprehension. The black Dremora leaned further down as he hissed, "She has a lover back in Tamerial; a great and powerful man of nobility and wealth. He can provide her with everything she needs, Xilivicus. He can buy whatsoever her heart wishes and when they are pictured together people will be in awe, not remorse. She doesn't _need_ you. Her feelings are merely an infatuation and in time she will realize what a _mistake_ it was for making love with you and she will leave you here in Oblivion… forsaken with misery and desperation."

Xilivicus' hard body had melted as all these words caused his mind to flip over and his thoughts to be clouded with doubt and sadness. His eyes were misty as he could imagine the Altmer leaving him. The Hero could provide her with so much more than he could.

_You must think of her happiness… before your own. _He could hear Velthada's words echo in his ears and he knew what was the inevitable. He felt his heart beginning to tear and his stomach churned and twisted into knots. He glanced down to his torso and whispered, "… so this is how it feels… to be human?"

Broga nodded lightly and stood, "I shall leave you to rest and think of what I had said. It appears that the second vial has broken during our battle, the one that will make you Daedric. Xarovica is fixing one as we speak… in case you come to the conclusion of…." He stopped and turned towards the door and just as he was about to leave; he heard his brethren speak.

"… Broga…" the Churl croaked.

"Yes, brother?" The Dremora turned around with calmed crimson eyes.

There was silence for a moment and suddenly Xilivicus tilted his head towards the door and he said softly, "… find another guard for Elizabeth."

Broga's eyes widened considerably and without words he nodded softly and walked out soon disappearing from the dungeon's keep. Xilivicus looked up at the ceiling as a few tears rolled down over his cheeks and stained the table.

-+-

Just as Broga had left the dungeon, a great smirk pulled across his lips. He sighed heavily and lifted a claw soon pushing back a few loose strands of ruby and onyx that were falling from his bounded hair. The cool breeze rushed across his face as his eyes lifted into the air and he could see the Watch Tower which loomed into the crimson heavens. His eyes flashed as he quickly made his way there; plans storming his mind.

He ascended the stairs with long strides and as he came to the door he attempted to open it; however, it wouldn't budge. His eyes narrowed and his palm pressed firmly onto the door and a jolt of gold came from his hand and the door unlocked. He pushed it open and entered seeing Elizabeth sitting near the fireplace with one of his tunics pulled across her body. The guard lifted his eyes and looked over with a frown, "Commander… I didn't know you would be returning so quickly."

"You're dismissed," he purred and walked farther into the room. "You may leave now," he hunched over his desk and found a scroll of parchment and a quill.

The guard's helmet lowered and then pivoted to the girl as he whispered, "Will you be alright?"

She nodded softly and smiled weakly at him, "Thank you, Cerberus."

The guard bowed to her and left simply; closing the door behind him. As Elizabeth heard the latch in the door fall to place, her muscles tensed and she felt ever so uncomfortable. Her eyes were glued upon the dancing fire and her lips seemed sewn shut in fear of provoking the great warrior to rather take advantage of her or even harm her. She could hear the scribbling of the quill against the parchment and leisurely her interest in the matter elevated. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Dremora's figure hunched over the desk with his unoccupied hand softly tapping at the tabletop. He stopped and tilted his head, soon seeing the girl looking at him.

Elizabeth whirled around and glared back at the fire with a tensed back. Her hands fiddled with one another as she pondered what would happen between her and this Dremora. Broga tapped his claw-like nails against the table as he was stumped. He inhaled deeply and lifted himself up soon turning and looking to the maiden. A smile pulled across his onyx lips as he cradled the scroll and quill in his hand as he walked over to her. "Elizabeth…"

His voice made her cringe; nonetheless, he was demanding her attention. He sat down upon one of the benches in front of the fire. He tapped the sharp point of the pin upon the scroll as he questioned, "May I see your hands…"

Her eyes narrowed and she hesitated. Broga was very patient and merely watched her with that same twinkle of lunacy in his eyes. She reached her hands forward and watched as he scanned them. He grinned as he saw the small golden signet ring on her finger. He gasped and grasped her hand soon examining the ring. "Beautiful band… may I?"

A glare was her answer and the Dremora slipped it slowly from her hand. He held it in his palm and quickly began writing again. The Altmer pursed her lips and then quietly demanded, "What are you doing?"

"You will see," he purred while twiddling the golden band on his thumb. He wrote a signature at the bottom and handed the parchment over to the girl. "Your father was a magistrate in a university, was he not? Surely he had thought you our language over the years."

"… I haven't deciphered Daedric writings in years," she purred while overlooking these jagged black symbols.

Broga bounded from the bench and quickly ran over to his desk. He grabbed a few more scrolls of parchment and walked over soon placing them in her lap. He leaned over her shoulder and grinned, "Then let this refresh you, I want you to read this and then write it back in your human tongue."

Elizabeth's cat-like sapphire eyes narrowed as she began to interpret. It was addressed… to the Champion? As she read further, tears were brought to her eyes and her head spun around as she glared up at Broga whose head was nearly pressed against hers. She shook her head and hissed, "… I won't write this for you."

The Commander hunched over her and picked up her hand soon digging his index and thumbnail into her flesh. She gasped and watched as he drew blood from her hand. His eyes were merciless as he snarled, "Then I will make you write."

The maiden bit her lip and soon leaned over and snatched the quill and a blank scroll. Her hands were trembling as she began to rewrite the scroll. Broga leaned down and kissed her long curved ear causing her to cringe and scribble slightly. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "… thank you, Elizabeth."

"B-Burn in Hell," she snarled while glaring up to him.

"Only if you'll be there with me," he chuckled while glancing down to the scroll. He demanded that he read it back to her to make certain she had copied it exactly and did not append her own comments. He listened to the words and a grin came to his face.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and bowed her head for a moment to think. As she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze she pleaded, "Please… don't give him this."

Broga snatched the scroll from her grasp and rolled it up and sealed within it Elizabeth's signet ring. "I am afraid I must. Now, I am certain you won't understand, but believe me, this is for your greater good."

The grand Dremora walked to the door. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and leapt to her feet with the quill clutched in hand. Broga slammed the door shut right after he had left and with a smirk he pulled from his pocket a jagged skeleton-like key and fitted it into the keyhole. He locked the door and sighed sweetly, "It's nothing personal, Elizabeth."

He walked down the stairs and knew that he would need the services of the Mythic Dawn, yet again.

-+-

The door closed to the Hero's home as he sauntered in with weary eyes. He unlatched his armor and quickly took it off and tossed it aside. It clashed with the ground and echoed as more armor was tossed upon it. Finally, he stood in nothing but a lengthy brown tunic and a pair of leather pants. His bare feet shuffled across the drafty floor as he stood at the top of the stairs with narrowed eyes. His hand was firm against the stair post as he thought to himself.

Elizabeth was deeply in love with this Daedra. Who was he to pry her away from him? His hand flew up to his golden curls and he pushed them from his face. His dark eyes and thick eyebrows were exposed to the dim candlelight of his Bruma house. Possibly, there was a way to save both Elizabeth and…

No, he was thinking nonsense now. Save a Daedra? Tamerial would think him a fool! He couldn't possibly allow Elizabeth to live peacefully with a monster from the realms of Oblivion! She was going to be his wife. She would bear him children and they would live in a beautiful home together and he would take care of her all his life. His eyes closed and he could see those magical sapphire eyes piercing through his soul. Her beautiful porcelain skin as pure as snow. He remembered her touch and how he unnerved him entirely.

His heart fluttered and a weak smile was brought to his lips. Suddenly, the images had changed and he remembered how hostile and hateful she was to him. She even went as far to wish his own death. That Daedra was no good for her. It had transformed her from a lady into a monster.

Within the confinements of his mind he was having a war. He couldn't decide any longer what was right or wrong. How could love be wrong? The once black and white of things were now fading into grey and he could hardly decide which side he was upon. He sauntered down the stairs and across the cobblestone floor. The candles were burning gold as he walked by them and just as he was to enter his room he saw that the door was ajar.

He stopped.

He never left his door open, no matter in what house he was in. Upon a nearby countertop he saw a silver dagger. He quickly picked it up and removed from it its sheath. With narrowed eyes he slowly hoisted the door open. A few melted candles burned within the room and from the first glance he had seen nothing out of place. Quickly, he bounded into the room and held the dagger up.

There was no one.

His eyes became slits as he was confused for a moment. Just as he was to turn around and shut the door he saw an Agent of the Mythic Dawn standing fully armored; hidden behind the shadow of the door. The agent pushed the door shut and laughed behind its mask. "Don't fret, I'm not here to kill you," she purred in a soft voice.

The Hero furrowed his brow and grasped the dagger tighter, "What other reason would you have to come here?!"

The agent's armor disappeared and the bright crimson robes replaced it. The Breton's face exposed. She was a young woman, a lot younger than Elizabeth; the Hero thought. She stepped forward and drew from her robes a scroll. She coughed and then announced, "I have come here from the planes of Oblivion to deliver to you this scroll written by Commander Broga. Within it is valuable and rather… devastating information." Her gloved hand reached forward; presenting the scroll.

Wavering; the Hero stepped forward and reached out for the scroll. Suddenly, he snatched her wrist and jerked her forward. She gasped and flew into his arms and in a moment he had her twirled around and pressed against the door of his bedroom. Her eyes were wide and he held the dagger to her neck with a glare, "Why should I trust you?"

She laughed inadequately and breathed heavily as she could feel his torso pressing against hers making certain she did move. Her voice was raspy as she replied frankly, "Y-You… shouldn't."

His woodland eyes narrowed and with one last thought he pulled away from the girl; dagger still held tightly in his hand. "… the scroll, please…"

The agent turned around and gave him the scroll. She bowed before him and as she lifted she said, "Don't expect me to be kind the next time we meet, goodnight Champion."

The Hero lifted his eyes and glared at her. She turned and quickly left the room disappearing in the dimness. His eyes fell back to the scroll and he unwrapped it and saw glittering of a golden band. His brow creased and as he lifted it he saw the Asquerana symbol that he had seen on Jerald's ring as well as Daelon. "… Elizabeth…" he whispered and picked it up soon examining it. He placed it down upon an empty shelf and he quickly began reading the scroll.

After the first few lines he began to feel very lightheaded. He fell upon the bed and continued reading with wide misty eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he began to read into the last paragraph:

_… Upon my arrival back in the realms of Dagon I had entered the tower that Elizabeth was held in to find her completely nude and ravaged. It had appeared that while I was gone, Xilivicus and the maiden had committed the act of fornication. My friend, I am sorry to be the bearer of such atrocious news. What Xilivicus has done is a crime both against you and his entire race. The penalty for breaking such a forbidden law is death. Unfortunately, I am prohibited by the same law from killing him; however, you are not bound to our laws. Upon the day of the war you must strike down and slaughter this abomination. If word of this gets to our Lord Dagon then it shall be Elizabeth's life that will be taken next. I remain, Champion, your obedient ally. _

_Commander Broga _

The scroll fell lifelessly from the Hero's trembling hands as only a few words from the letter had stuck out to him.

Elizabeth life was to be taken next? His trembling hands coiled into fists as he placed his elbows upon his legs soon leaning his head down in consideration. His nostrils flared and he closed his eyes tightly as he snarled aloud to himself, "... I'll make that bastard beg for mercy. I'll rip him apart... I'll mutilate him... I'll... I'll..." He trailed off and quickly remembered. His eyes fell down to his belt and he saw that long wicked Daedric Claymore.

Yes... he knew what he was to do.

--_**TBC**_--

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_**Read and Review-- Remember SEVEN REVIEWS or no new chapter. Mwha.**_


	22. The Shrouded Betrayal

**_Ok, I might not have gotten seven reviews like I had planned. However, I couldn't make you all suffer for this. So here is the next chapter. Took me forever to write it and if I am correct it is the longest of all chapters... I think. Enjoy._**

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-+-

Five days had passed in the realms of the darkness. Hope had been locked within a box and hadn't seen light since. The Great Dremora, Broga, trained with his armies for the final encounter against Tamerial. Their blades were sharpened and their armor polished thirsting for nothing more then to be soiled once again by guiltless blood. Elizabeth was kept locked away within the Watch Tower for she could only watch from the revered casement as this war began to unfold for its final chapter. Velthada had sat close to Xilivicus' side as his mortal body healed ever so gradually. His transformation had destroyed many of his muscles and left him frail and worthless; surely if Broga forced him to war he would die there just as many other men would die.

Xilivicus' once vivacious eyes now dulled as he sat like a canary within a steel cage. His only light sources were two small torches at either side of the room which were fastened securely onto the wall. His lips ripped apart as he finally opened his mouth after so many hours. His eyelids barely held open as he succumbed to his weariness. Velthada had given him many potions in order to heal his torn muscles and cure his loss of strength. The Spider narrowed her eyes and beckoned the Churl tenderly. His head turned bit by bit and he looked at her with those frozen dead eyes. She leaned down and pushed a few strands of thick ginger hair from his face as she whispered to him, "... are you ready to walk, my brother?"

He turned his eyes to the ceiling and sighed sincerely. His crackling voice had startled the Spider for he had spoken louder then a whisper, "In two more days... I shall be sprinting across battlefields with nothing but a sword to protect me. There is no need to train me, Velthada; I can no longer escape the inevitable."

"Don't speak like that," she scolded while standing tall upon her legs. "Your future is not written in stone, Xilivicus."

"It may as well be," he purred while turning his head away.

Velthada's silver eyes sparked with annoyance. She glared at the table and slammed her hands down upon it. From her palms came a fiery blast and soon the table was engulfed in flames. The room lit up like the morning sky and Xilivicus had disappeared from the inferno and stood a few feet away in a combating stance. He breathed heavily as he glared at his Daedric sister. Sweat drops rolled down his pale slender torso and glistened in the light of the fire. The Spider smirked and shook her head, "... you can outlive this war, brother. You have the determination and the divine aid to do so!" Her smile faded and a shadow of grief overcame her. "Why must you hide within the shadows of your own sadness?"

"Because what do I have to live for?" He questioned with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. "What do I have to look forward to after this war is complete, hmm? The future I see is grim with a Dremora as a master and a dungeon cell as my home. The will to live is perishing more and more by the day."

"Idiot," Velthada spat.

The firestorm ate away at the surface of the table and all contents upon it as the couple stood in silence with conflicting eyes upon one another. Xilivicus' eyes held disarray and impatience. Velthada's eyes held a hidden hope and bravery. The Spider bore her fangs as she snarled; disbelieving, "... you have _nothing_ to live for?"

In stubbornness, Xilivicus stood tall with a sealed mouth. The Spider raised her arachnid abdomen and lowered her torso as she readied herself for a charge. In a moment's notice, she had leapt forward and scooped the Churl up onto her shoulder. Her spiked feet were blurs as she escaped from the room and crawled frantically down the hall. As she came to a bend in the dungeon pathway she road high up onto the wall and continued with her fast-paced pursuit.

Out into the night she had escaped with the Churl flailing upon her back, pleading for her to free him and let him hide within his chambers where he had been for such a long time. Velthada narrowed her eyes and she promptly approached the grand Watch Tower. Her eyes were not set upon the door; they were set upon the wall. Her once moderate trot set into a hastening gallop as she crawled up the side of the wall to the tower's keep which loomed within the heavens. Xilivicus held tightly upon her neck as he could see the ground disappear below him. His eyes blurred in terror and his voice had fell into his belly and vanished like a flame in winter's grasp.

Upon the veranda did the Spider crawl, soon releasing the Churl from her clutches. Xilivicus stumbled forward and leaned upon the wall with a heaving breath. His pupils disappeared in a fiery pit and as he turned to criticize his sister, Velthada had disappeared into the Watch Room with such craftiness it put the Thieves Guild to shame. Xilivicus watched for a moment and quickly pursued his friend in fear of Velthada beckoning the girl of which he wished to disregard.

Upon a cushioned sleeping slab did the maiden lay. Her silver locks coiling down upon the floor like a frozen ivy. Her body encased in a thick pelted blanket. Candelabras were beside her bed forcing away the darkness from her innocent body. Xilivicus approached behind Velthada and just as he was to question why they were here; she turned and glared at him. Her eyes were frozen and stricken with a deep heartbroken sadness. "... You have no reason to live, is that it?" She whispered out into the night. Her head turned back to the maiden and tears came to her eyes as she snarled, "... you are so _foolish_."

Xilivicus stepped closer and as he lifted a hand to place it upon his sister's shoulder, she proceeded forward. Her padded tarsus slid across the ground silently. She lowered her body and placed the palm of a pasty frozen claw upon the maiden's head. She stroked her black fingertips through her silken locks with narrowed eyes, "... for her to live within a peaceful world. For her to live a long and flourished life with the ones she holds dear. For her to remember Oblivion and tell stories about it for many years to come... that is your reason to live."

The candles flickered and Xilivicus walked closer with a furrowed brow and a frozen face. He overlooked Elizabeth and then turned his eyes to the Spider. She looked the worst of them all and softly, Xilivicus purred, "...Velthada..."

"You live," she carried on. "You live... so she may once again live... live in a world where she will not have to worry about monsters like you and I shrouded in the shadows." Her onyx fingertips slid out of the girl's hair and slowly fell upon her abdomen. Her silver eyes fell there for only a moment before lifting back up to the Altmer's soft face. Her black lips parted and she wished that more words would fall from her tongue; though, she could not conjure them to herself.

Xilivicus bowed his head and closed his eyes in shame as he thought about this. He wanted to stay as far away from the maiden so his feelings would not fully develop and plague his mind like wicked barbed vines. As he looked back up he whispered forlornly, "... take me away from this place, sister."

Velthada looked up to him with tears rushing to her eyes causing the silver of her irises to sparkle like diamonds under the golden Colovian sun. "... How can you be so unemotional?"

Xilivicus turned his eyes away ignoring the question rather simply. He hadn't wanted to begin an argument with his sister that would stir the young Altmer maiden. He shook his head slowly but surely. "... Please, just... let me leave."

She hesitated and looked down upon the Altmer wondering why no one had their happy ending. She finally lifted from her legs and crawled over to Xilivicus. The pair walked to the veranda and just as they were to escape into the brisk wintry air, Elizabeth called out from the comfort of her bed, "... Xilivicus...?"

He stopped.

His head pivoted and he glanced back to see Elizabeth pulling the blankets tightly around her as she sat up and tried to peer farther into the darkness. Her eyes weren't as trained as Velthada's or even Xilivicus'. The Spider lowered herself even further and telepathically she whispered into the Churl's head. Her voice echoed across the confinements of his mind and caused him to glance back at his sister. "_... Quiet now... she only thinks that she had heard you. She shall lie back down and then we shall leave." _

Misery filled his eyes to the brim and caused contempt for his own nature. He had professed his love to this girl many a time and now he was shrouding himself in the shadows allowing himself to become nothing more to her then the darkness itself. His legs were aching as he stood perfectly still in the dimness of the room. The long curved ears of the maiden fell as did her hopes of seeing her dear one. Her eyes lowered and she placed herself once more down upon the sleeping slab. Sleep encumbered her and the Churl made his way to the balcony with the Spider who lowered him down bit by bit and took him back to the shelter of his petite dungeon chamber.

-+-

Standing upon the great fort wall of Cloud Ruler Temple, the Hero surveyed Bruma with frozen eyes. Behind him, the Blades were training with Grandmaster Jaufree. Martin Septim, heir to the throne, sat safely in the walls of the temple with an Arcane University scholar who was helping him decipher an olden book of nonsense. Caldwyn and Orrick had gone off to Bruma to buy themselves uniforms for the war.

The Hero was hunched over the railing with his elbows pressed into the limestone. His fingers twiddled Elizabeth's necklace that he had pick pocketed from Daelon. The divine chiming of the gold against gold did nothing to the Hero. His mind was beginning to warp and his nerves beginning to break. Nothing had ever gotten under his skin like this maiden had. Her beautiful smile... it haunted him. Those sophisticated sapphire eyes captivated and charmed. He clenched his eyes shut to shake the memory from him. Just as he thought he had gotten rid of every thought of her, he saw those fiery tangerine eyes consume his mind. He cringed; startled. That deep purple skin wrapped itself around thin air as if it were a mold. Daedric carvings upon the chest and neck had appeared and gradually, the purple mold turned into the demonic posture of the Churl, Xilivicus.

The knight's eyes ripped open as he had switched from Elizabeth's beautiful haunting figure to this of the monster. His hatred boiled within him and his throat began to constrict. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he began to reminisce upon their fight within the first realm of Oblivion. Yes, _he_ was the dauntless knight who assailed him within the Sigil Keep. It all became clear for him now... the tremendous change of emotions that the Altmer possessed when he had driven his blade into that demon's body, yes, he began to recall.

"... So they had feelings," purred he, "_prior _to me arriving in Oblivion."

The atmosphere reassured him as the wind began to pick up and toss his scarlet cape that was latched to his steel armor. His gloved hand lifted and harshly shoved past coils of gold as he thought deeper. How long had Elizabeth and this... man... had feelings for one another? Could it possibly be they knew each other _before_ Kvatch was attacked? Surely not, that would be absurd. His paranoia crept into the core of his brain and it began to twist everything that he saw. The bells of Bruma tolled into the air and the Hero heaved a profound sigh as he pushed away from the railing of the wall and walks back down to the temple with a slow and steady pace. The necklace was wrapped numerous times around his fist emitting a soft glow as he walked through the rays of light that fell down upon the temple.

His hands raised and pushed upon the doors of the temple causing them to swing ajar. A few guards glanced over cautiously, half expecting a Dremora to be in the Hero's place. The knight walked forward and with a glance about he turned to the studying Jerald and questioned, "...where is your son, the eldest?"

"Daelon?" Jerald called out into the dimness anticipating an answer. When he had realized that there was not a soul to answer, he continued on, "... He took his horse and left just the other day."

The Hero's eyes lit up and his mind had abandoned those paranoid thoughts as he became intrigued. "He just... left? Where did he go?"

-+-

A very plump velvet carrier fell onto the limestone causing a jingle, for within the container was no less and no more then five hundred golden septims. Before the shrine stood a very restless young Altmer. His once neatly kept hair now fell in coils down around his glistening sun kissed face. His amber eyes sparkling like fire as he looked up upon this, the shrine of Clavicus Vile.

The bag of coins slowly dissipated into a smoke of blackness and a voice rang from the ancient limestone as the statuette of this Prince came to life. A childish laugh echoed around the Altmer as he watched with narrowed eyes and a fluttering heart. Never before had he ever been so near a Daedric shrine. It was forbidden by his father, and for all his life he had obeyed this law; however, now seemed like the perfect time to abolish that law.

An overwhelming rush flooded the body of Daelon as his eyes lifted to that of Vile. His childlike voice whispered through the cracks of the shrine and he spoke enthusiastically to the Altmer, "Well, well, well!" Clavicus had gasped, "Look at this, Barbas! A nobleman stooping down upon the step of my shrine in need of my services! What business do you have with me, mortal?"

"I wish to make a deal," Daelon called up to the shrine.

Clavicus was silenced for a mere moment. That stillness was quickly shattered by his deviant chuckle. Daelon swore that he felt an unseen hand fall upon his shoulder as the voice of the Daedric Prince questioned lightly, "A deal, you say? Why, I believe you have come to the right place! Precisely what did you have... in mind?"

Dark clouds billowed through the sky and Daelon began to feel very uncomfortable before this unholy patron of sin and pacts. There was no time to lose, by the time he returned to Bruma they would be off to war. _... For Elizabeth..._ he reassured himself, _this is for... Elizabeth._ "I want you to grant me the strength and wisdom of all of Cyrodiil so that when the time comes to go into Mehrunes Dagon's plane of Oblivion, I shall have the power and will to save my sister, Elizabeth Asquerana."

"Elizabeth, you say?" Clavicus gasped, "Why, I know of Elizabeth! The great Scholar of Tamerial, I am told! Mehrunes Dagon won't feel so content when I grant you your wish. Allowing one of his enemies to parade upon the shores of his realm. The cost of such a deal will be _great_."

"Great it shall be, milord." Daelon bowed before the shrine with a burdensome heart. "In return for your gracious blessing I shall forfeit my soul to you."

"More," Clavicus had demanded simply.

Daelon pulled up from his bow with confused eyes, "More?"

"Yes, more."

"What _more_ is there to offer?!" Daelon demanded with his nerves beginning to break. The winds rushed about the Daedric Shrine as Daelon looked desperately upon the statue with sorrow beginning to fill the hole within his blackening heart. "My sister means the world to me, Clavicus. I _need_ to save her... what can I offer to you? What _is_ there to possibly offer you?!"

"Another soul," purred the Prince with a soft chuckle. "Within the realms of Oblivion stands a Dremora who has wronged me ever so severely. Upon the day of this war of yours, you shall travel into Dagon's realm and locate this Dremora for me," Vile had said and a black swirl of darkness formed on the step of the shrine. It formed and solidified into a black sword whose gleam appeared to be a very royal purple. Daelon lifted the sword into his hands and looked down upon the rapier. He saw his own reflection and heard the Prince speak to him, "You shall drive this sword through the man's frozen still heart and his soul shall be sent straight to _me_. Do we have an agreement, mortal?"

Daelon closed his eyes and held firmly onto the sword as he called out, "Yes, milord."

"Well done!" Clavicus cooed with a gentle laugh.

The Altmer rose to his feet and looked up to the statue with a question burning in his eyes, "... what if I cannot collect the soul of this Daedra?"

"Well... then the soul of another shall take his place of course! Someone who is powerful and revered in both your realm and Oblivion's. But that is to the least of our worries, dear mortal!" Vile laughed jubilantly.

Daelon's eyes tapered as he glanced down upon this rapier yet again. His fingertips slid across the smooth texture that felt like ice. The Altmer turned to leave and with one concluding thought he glanced over his shoulder and called out to the Daedric Prince, "... whose is the name of the Dremora of which you want me to kill, milord?"

A twittering cackle came from the essence of the Prince as he thought over the question for a sheer moment. "The Dremora you seek is unique to his kind. His heart... black as the tone of his skin. His eyes are as crimson as the skies of Oblivion." Daelon's eyes grew vastly as within his mind he began to see the swirling hellfire of Oblivion and before that great structured gate he saw the iniquitous figure of the Black Dremora. Those sweltering eyes burned holes into his immortal soul and suddenly Daelon grew feeble. His once firm grasp upon the sword loosened. Clavicus chuckled and questioned, "... will this be a problem, mortal? I am sure that I could quickly cancel the deal and your sister shall be lost to the darkness of Oblivion forever—"

"No," interrupted Daelon, "there is no problem, milord."

"Good then! Very good... now... depart my little follower. You shall get the strength you require and in return I shall get the soul of the Commander of Lord Dagon's armies, just as we have agreed! Good luck, mortal!"

Daelon tied the sword to his belt and quickly had he departed for his white horse. He leapt upon the saddle and with heavy shoulders he grasped the reins and clicked his heels into the side of the horse. As the Altmer road off to the path, Clavicus Vile laughed eccentrically with hidden whispers in his mind; _You shall need all the luck of this world and the next! By the time he finds that Dremora and plunges the sword within his heart, he too shall be dying of a fatal blow. In which case, I shall get the reward of both souls. _The childlike Prince twittered gleefully as he purred delicately, "Oh, Mephala... what an epic saga this is turning out to be!"

-+-

It was the sixth day.

The blood-spattered sun rose over the horizon only to be blocked by the billowing clouds of Oblivion. The Commander had beaten many of his soldiers until they had feared death no more. His heart was swelled with pride and for once happiness permeated him. He made his way to the Watch Room and as he entered the tower's keep he saw Elizabeth standing near the prominent decorated windows. Her eyes fell over this vast realm as she attempted to inhale its quintessence for when the war came she was certain that Daedric designs and structures were going to be seen far more than what she saw now.

The Great Black Dremora stood aside and merely marveled at the refreshed beauty of the maiden. His long onyx tunic still sheltered her body from his eyes and an extensive Spider-silk blanket had been pulled around her arms as she attempted to preserve her vanishing heat. Broga lifted his hand and pushed a few locks of loose hair from his face as he advanced into the room and approached the maiden from behind. She needed not to worry of his barbaric actions for there were far more important things that loomed on his mind this beautiful Daedric morning.

His deep rich voice beckoned out to her and caught her senses easily. Her ears perked and her head had shifted to a side as she listened to him. "... I suppose that you had slept rather peacefully, Elizabeth?"

Her response was silence as she simply looked out of the window. Her body became a frozen statuette and Broga had felt an inner peace for her rebellion and expressed hatred towards him was beginning to fail and disappear in the morning's light. The Dremora stepped beside her and as he hunched over to look at her, his black long claw lifted to her chin. He gently pushed her head to his side and looked her deep within those pools of collected tears. Their eyes were rivals; water and fire, peace and fury, crimson and sapphire.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and as she looked into those scorching eyes she questioned, "... why is it that Xilivicus hasn't left the dungeons in so many nights? He has surely healed by now. Is it your own jealousy that holds him in confinement?"

Broga stood to his regular height which towered over the maiden who was nearly two feet shorter then the Dremora. His hand lifted as he pushed more loose locks from his face. His fingertips caressed past the thick component of his jagged black horns and he looked upon the maiden with a grave façade, "It is not I who hold him down there. He hasn't surfaced because he wishes not to surface."

The maiden's brow creased and she questioned, "Why would he subject himself to that prison? I thought at the least he would like to return and tell me that he is alright."

The Commander turned back towards the window and heaved a sigh, "... you have been a wonderful guest in this realm, Elizabeth. Patient and kind," his eyes shifted away as he muttered, "for the most part." As he glanced back to the maiden he contemplated and then told her, "For today, you may leave the Watch Tower and may walk unguided down the paths of Oblivion. All the soldiers shall be in their battle regiments and the mages shall be training with Elder-Xarovica as we prepare for tomorrow. The only place I wish for you to keep away from is the dungeon. If I hear that anyone had seen you in the halls of the dungeon you shall return back to the Watch Tower until the war is over."

Elizabeth's diamond eyes widened as she fully turned to the Commander with disbelief. He looked so strong and wise upon this morning. Just like he had looked when she had first met him. "Travel unguided?" She questioned, "Shall... shall that be permitted by Lord Dagon?"

"More and likely not," Broga grinned with a faint chuckle, "... but officially, I own you and Dagon shall not order around my maiden, no matter how loyal I am to him that is one thing I shan't stand for. You may do as you wish for today."

Elizabeth pulled the blanket tighter to herself as she furrowed her brow and looked up to his eyes. She watched as he observed his homeland with both an exalted affection and an adored familiarity. Within moments like this, the Altmer could see that Broga was not just some villain who only wanted destruction and death. There were things that he cherished and wished to last forever. Possibly, his role in the war was to protect his homeland and to finally end this maddening war between Tamerial and Oblivion. Within the first rays of light she began to realize there were more accounts to this war then just her own.

"Thank you, Broga." Elizabeth whispered lightly off to the Commander. "You may not think of it as much, but freeing me from this Watch Tower is such a blessing."

"Think of it not," he replied while gripping his wrist behind his back. He stood in attention as he continued to look out upon this withering wasteland.

The Altmer nodded and just as she was to turn and rush off to put away her blanket, Broga turned and caught her wrist. The Elf turned back and looked up at him; waiting. The Commander's eyes shifted between her eyes as he told her, "I wish you to be back before twilight. If likely, I would like my last meal before the war to be with you."

Elizabeth remained in silence for a moment as she considered it. Surely, if she objected he would only force her to attend. He had been kind to her these last few days; possibly she could repay his gracious favor by dining with him only once. Her head nodded and she told him, "Of course, sir."

He released her wrist and nodded in comprehension. He turned to the door and began sauntering over. He called back to her, "If you won't mind, I must leave. My regiment is waiting for my arrival. Until tonight, Elizabeth." He slipped from the room and disappeared just like he came.

The Altmer let the blanket fall from her as she stood motionless in the long tunic. She rushed over to her supplies and quickly pulled sandals upon her feet and sheathed a Daedric dagger beneath the tunic. She might be protected by the word of Broga; nevertheless, that did not absolutely indemnify her protection. Eagerly, she sprinted from the room and flew down the stairwell. The freedom felt astonishing and hardly could she believe it as she stepped upon Oblivion's red soil. The wind blew gently upon her face and she wondered where she should start her newborn freedom at.

-+-

The hours of the day had slipped through Elizabeth's fingers like grains of sand. She traveled to Xarovica's tower to watch as he educated them and taught them how to enhance their skills within battles. The Mages did not seem to mind the extra pair of ears as the maiden had sat in on one of the lectures. Soon after, she departed and made her way to the Clannfear farm where a very plump Dremora prepared for her a roasted Daedric delicacy of Clannfear. The Altmer was skeptic; however, after she had tried it she took a rather good liking to it.

Apart from a few scornful eyes, the inhabitants of Oblivion were not terrible beings. They laughed together and told wonderful stories of heroic Daedra who battled the fieriest of monsters to prove how loyal they were to their Prince. The sun began to sink into the immeasurable ocean of lava being extinguished like a flame in a pail of water. Elizabeth knew that she had to leave before sundown or else Broga would get rather impatient with her. She bid her new Daedric friends farewell and honestly wished them well in their battle tomorrow.

Upon the reddened path did she run to the Watch Tower. She saw the steeple towering into the sky and she used this to tell where she was. The paths seemed bare at such an hour and she was certain that many a Daedra were trying to get rest before their climatic encounter with Cyrodiil in the early morning. Just as she began to contemplate secretly to herself, she came to a halt upon the road. Her muscles stiffened and her eyes widened to some extent.

Xilivicus froze as well upon the road before her. Sheltering his paled body was the heavy contents of Daedric armor. His eyes shifted back and forth for a moment as he prayed more than anything that she wasn't there, but a hallucination. The maiden stepped closer and slowly a faltering smile pulled across her lips as she called out, "Xilivicus..."

The Churl's lips parted; yet, it had appeared no words fell. He stood in utter shock as he saw her walking down the street unaided. Had Broga approved of this? Before he had a moment to react, Elizabeth had leapt into his arms and held him tightly. The barbed spikes that poked into her chest and arms did not bother her, for the joy of seeing Xilivicus could burn away all pain that she felt. Her heart swelled immensely and she whispered softly, "I thought I wouldn't get to see you before the war."

Xilivicus did not embrace her back. He stood motionless as he glimpsed down upon the crown of her head. His brow fell wretchedly over his eyes as he still could not summon a voice to his mouth. Elizabeth pulled away and soon pushed herself up upon the tips of her toes. Her back arched and her neck stretched as she attempted to kiss the brim of his lips. The Churl cocked his head discretely as he wished not to play this charade any longer. The Altmer's thin eyebrows fell over her eyes as she looked upon him with sympathy as she could surely see there was something burdening him. "... Xilivicus... what's a matter?"

"Elizabeth," he croaked gently while stepping away from her. "I have to go train for the war." Without another word he walked past her and down the path to the battle regiment which he would be a part of.

The Altmer turned and a twinge of fear lit within her eyes as she scoffed and a weak smile came to her lips. "... Broga didn't lie, did he? When he said that you chose not to come to the Watch Tower on your own... you didn't wish to see me at all... did you?"

Xilivicus cocked his head and took a glimpse at her from over his shoulder. He could sense the disdain in her voice and he guaranteed truthfully, "... Broga didn't lie."

Elizabeth's chest sheltered a newborn pain as more paranoid worries plagued her mind. Her brow trembled delicately as she sobbed, "... then... then you must be lying..."

The Churl turned fully around with a scowl upon his façade. His structure was heavy with grief as he shook his head lightly and forced her to believe him, "It's hard to look upon you, Elizabeth. I want to be with you—I do, trust me. But," his eyes fell to the ground as he searched for the words. "Even under... this human masquerade I am still a Daedra."

"It doesn't matter to me, Xilivicus!" She exclaimed with aggravation sitting upon her mind and sadness controlling her heart. "None of it matters! ... When this war is over... y-you'll be with me in the renovated Kvatch... as... as my husband."

"No," said he, "I won't."

She froze in place with vast eyes. Her heart had skipped a beat as she could not fully wrap her mind around those words. Her eyes shifted back and forth upon the ground as she whispered, "... what...?"

"When this war is over," Xilivicus told her, "You shall be in Kvatch... and I shall remain within my homeland of Oblivion." He heard her whimper and disagree with him; yet, he carried on, "It was a mistake to lead you on into this, Elizabeth. I wish there was a way I could... but there isn't. I'm sorry." He turned his back and just as he did he was sent flying forward with formidable surges of power passing through his limbs and lastly ending in an anesthetizing stir. He jerked around with spacious eyes as he remained standing in incredulity.

From Elizabeth's fingertips did the spell's blue mist finally disappear as her eyes were alive with scorn and her body was tensed with vexation. She stood to her full height and snarled, "How dare you..."

He retorted with a sharp tongue, "This is for the better—"

"—for the better of whom, Xilivicus? For us... or for _you_?" She hissed back while coiling her porcelain hand into a fist. Electricity passed through her knuckles as she prepared herself to send another jolt at him in persuasion.

"Must you blame me for thinking such a way, Elizabeth?" questioned he while walking forward. "I am a man of destruction. Where I walk, hatred and blaspheme follow. You are a woman of virtue. You belong upon a throne with a worthy man by your side. That man is not me..."

"Stop saying that," she screamed at him while tossing her hands down to her sides. Her head bowed and she clenched her eyes shut for a moment as she attempted to calm herself. As she lifted her gaze she said, "I won't leave you here in Oblivion, Xilivicus! I love you far too much..."

"If you claim to love me so much then tolerate my decision." He glared at her and threw his hand aside as he told her, "Tomorrow the Champion of Cyrodiil will come into this realm and beseech that you return to Tamerial with him."

"I won't go," she protested, "I won't go... you can't make me leave Oblivion!"

His eyes were empty as he shook his head and no longer wished to dispute with her. He turned away and began walking once more down the path as he demanded of her, "...return to the Watch Tower, Ms. Asquerana."

"... Xilivicus..." her weak voice called out to him as she stood defeated.

He stopped and bowed his head while answering her call with unwanted words, "... if you love me, Elizabeth, then you must let me _go_."

The Altmer gnashed her teeth together as her eyes sparkled like diamonds with fresh tears. They slid down her rosy cheeks as she turned and sprinted down the path to the Watch Tower. Xilivicus closed his eyes as his heart laid within his chest and slowly returned to its blackened slumber. He lifted his eyes and embraced the thought of death as he ventured forth to the regiment to train.

-+-

Her heart shredded itself within her chest as her feet became wings and carried her across the sand of Oblivion. Her controversial mind was both soothing her and scolding her for ever allowing herself to be smitten. She was finally upon the path of the Watch Tower and from the dungeon's keeps, which was located quite near, Velthada breeched into the wicked breeze. She witnessed the maiden and her heart quickly seized as she cried out, "Elizabeth!"

The Altmer ignored her as she disappeared within the fortress of her solitude. She stumbled up the stairs loosing much of her vigor as she went. Velthada was hastily sprinting after her beckoning for her to stop. The maiden dashed through the Watch's keep seeing Broga standing near a newly rekindled fireplace. He lifted and with a smile he turned to greet her; however, he was greeted foremost with screams.

"You knew, didn't you?!" She gasped with reddening eyes and a faltering voice as she looked upon. "You knew... you knew he would say t-those things. You bastard, you _knew_!"

Broga was stunned as he looked upon Elizabeth with compassionate eyes, "... Elizabeth... what are you...?"

"Don't lie to me," she howled at him as her structure weakened and she fell feebly to the floor.

Before she had fell, the black Dremora dashed forward and caught her within his heavily built arms. He held onto her tightly as she sobbed into his chest. Her arms wrapped around his back and gripping into the fabric of his tunic as all the pain and misery from the last days had at last broke their chains and surfaced from the depths of her mind.

Velthada rushed into the room soon looking upon the couple who sat upon the floor. Broga purred soothing words into her ears soon placing his square jaw upon the crown of her head. His once saddened eyes lifted to Velthada and quietly a smirk coiled over his lips and within his eyes lit triumph. The Spider stared defiantly and rather hatefully at him for she realized precisely what had occurred. She jerked away from the door and hastily departed out of her own wrath and gloom.

Broga caressed his long black claws through the Altmer's silver hair as he purred into her ear as she sobbed, "... it's alright, Elizabeth."

Even though her hatred of Broga had subsided to a mere annoyance, she was compelled at this moment to grab onto him and hold him ever so closely. For everyone in this realm had betrayed her in one point of time or another. Even Broga, in his own ways, had betrayed her; however, his betrayal was the least of all or so she had thought.

"D-Don't... don't leave," she begged while gripping tighter onto his tunic with a heavy sob. "P-please... d-don't leave me."

Broga grinned and a shimmer of lust appeared in his crimson eyes as he purred back to her, "I will _never_... leave you."

He pulled her tighter to his chest as he continued to run his claws through her hair and also upon her heaving back. He chuckled within his mind as he purred to himself; _Mission accomplished..._

_**--TBC--**_

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_**Read and Review... or else. (**_**Insert Evil Eye Here**__


	23. Fight with Hate, Die for Love

-+-

Over the horizon did the bloodied sun lift. It symbolized the massacre that was to be within a few mere hours. The Hero of Kvatch stood upon the fortress wall with eyes deprived of any sleep. All through the night had he stayed up contemplating about this war. He made strategies and figured out facts hoping that he would be wiser when he approached the battlefield. He closed his eyes as he let the mountain fog roll over him and cool his burning nerves. Behind him, on the walkway, Daelon approached fully suited in Ebony armor. A helmet was cradled beneath his arm as he shared the same view of the Hero. The Altmer licked his parched lips as he spoke out his first words of the morning, "... it shall all be over soon."

Without detaching his eyes from the horizon, the Hero's response was silence. His structure was still tense as he could only think of one thing and that was Elizabeth. He pondered upon the thought if that Black Dremora could have lied to him. Possibly, she was in agonizing pain at this precise moment. He began to fear for her safety with shaken anxious woodland eyes. His lips sealed together as he made an effort to bask in the silence.

Daelon's long sun kissed ears curved as he became burdened with his own worry for the knight. He placed his gauntlet upon the man's shoulder and reassured him with a buoyant voice, "... Elizabeth will be fine."

With a jerk of his arm, the Hero pulled his shoulder away and turned around. He walked past Daelon and demanded of him, "... go prepare your brothers. We leave at midday."

The Altmer watched as he paced away. Daelon's eyes narrowed and he turned to the horizon looking at it for the last time before. For in a mere few hours he would be trudging through the jagged wasteland of Oblivion; the origin of nightmares.

-+-

All through the night, the Commander sat by Elizabeth's side. He sat upon the ground with his back pressed against a wall. The inferno within the hearth burned vibrantly and favorably. The Altmer was positioned next to Broga's side. Her body shifted upon his chest with one arm draped over his abdomen while the other was nestled under her cheek which permitted her fingertips to stroke against the warmth of his tunic.

With one arm, the Commander held her securely to him. He could feel her fluttering heart pound into his chest. It echoed back at her heart for his heart had been dead within his chest for such a long time. The fingertips of his other hand softly slid through her long snow-white tresses. His own locks had abandoned the black ribbon that they had usually been tied within. His lengthy waved onyx hair fell around his face as he looked down upon the sleeping beauty which embraced him so affectionately.

It befuddled him why she would turn to him from that lack of compassion that she received from her former darling. He was certain that she only turned to him out of desperation; nevertheless, he would cherish this moment as much as he could. The first rays of light came through the pane and Broga felt his heart harden for this was a sign for him to depart. Commander of Dagon's armies and most powerful Dremora within the realms of Oblivion had its disadvantages at times like this. With vigilance he shifted the maiden into his arms and lifted her from the surface of the floor. He raised himself and the Altmer easily enough.

With grace he had glided over to the sleeping slab and tenderly placed the quiescent maiden down. Her body formed over the cushions and she let off a gentle sigh. Broga found a blanket and draped it across her body to keep her warmth from escaping her. His hands were kind as they tucked her in and made sure that she would stay slumbering until the war was over.

Just as he was to turn and leave he felt her petite frigid hand fall over his own. He became startled for a moment and as his timid crimson eyes shifted back to her, he saw her eyes flutter open for a mere second and then once again close as she whispered purely, "... Broga... don't... leave."

The Commander's eyes widened to some extent and he quickly justified that she was sleep talking. His eyes turned away for a moment as he thought how to respond to that. He could easily lie to her; on the other hand, he didn't want his last words to her before the war be that of deceit. He kneeled beside the slab and ran his fingertips across her velvet cheek while purring, "... I promise I'll return to you, Elizabeth." His eyes shifted between her eyes as he leaned forward and clandestinely stole a kiss from her pouted pale lips. "... Sweet dreams, my maiden," he concluded while detaching his hand from her cheek.

Into the shadows had he disappeared hoping to get to the battle chambers in time to suit up into his armor and hand off a few scrolls to his Mages that he had taken from Kvatch.

-+-

Elizabeth had succumbed to the overwhelming tide of sleep. She descended even further into its clasp and slowly had she opened the book of dreams. When she had opened her heavy eyelids she saw around her a Kvatch that had been restored to its former glory. Her heart swelled as she looked upon the towering steeples of the Chapel. The streets were cleared of rubble and luscious plants grew from green patches of some personal yards. The wonderful woodland smell fell like fog upon the city and Elizabeth could only bask within the glory. Her feet were nimble as she leapt down the street. Her house... the castle... even the old arena—it was all there!

Her mouth broadened to a grin; however, something seemed amiss. She pushed open a few front doors to the houses located nearby and found no one. Fireplaces were lit and roasting meals were set upon the tables; nevertheless, there was not a soul in the homes. "Could it possibly be everyone is at the arena?" She attempted to justify the situation.

As she abandoned her search and walked back upon the moonlit streets, she noticed that many torches had been lit upon the bridge of the castle. Her eyes were drawn to the charming dancing flames and she walked nearer; curious. As her bare feet crossed the cobblestone path, she began to hear rather delightful music. Her senses were captivated and she moved faster to the Castle's keeps. _Oh_! She had told herself, _there must be a celebration_! _Afterall... they would have to find a new Count for Kvatch._ Just as she was about to push open the grand doors, her eyes fell upon her attire.

Oh, how dreadful she looked! She wore only an extensive tattered tunic with her hair a windblown disarray. The thought hadn't bothered her as much as she thought and swiftly she pushed open the doors and announced herself with her sudden appearance. Just as she walked into the room she gave another glance to her attire and she was astounded when no longer had she appeared filthy. A beautiful flowing cobalt dress hung from her slender figure falling around her feet like frozen rose petals. Her hair had been cared for and now flowed over her pale shoulders and coiled just above her chest; shimmering like freshly fallen snow.

When her eyes lifted she had seen no guests and no members of Kvatch. Her heart began to fall in her chest as she walked down the long crimson carpet that led to the throne. Great bowls of fire had been lit to give more to the lighting of the room and to guide the maiden down to the throne. Her hands were folded before her as she took a glance around to see only frozen memories and painted dreams. This might have looked like the castle she once knew; on the other hand, there was a lack of familiarity. Beside the throne were two stone figures whose features were scarcely recognizable. Elizabeth approached with a cagey heart. Her strong curved ears lowered in fright as she called out to their silhouettes, "... Excuse me... can... can you tell me where the inhabitants of Kvatch are?"

The once frozen form of the statuettes transformed into soft beautiful skin. The clothing flowed to the floor ever so gracefully and a elegant voice echoed out to the Altmer, "They are dead, my dear..."

The Altmer narrowed her eyes and moved forward, "... who are you?"

She walked through the darkness and suddenly two great torches had been lit and light flooded across the granite flooring soon shedding light upon the faces of the strangers. Elizabeth felt her heart seize and her legs became immobilized out of fear. Her body straitened and her eyes became a vast sapphire ocean. "... It can't be," she whispered to herself as she looked upon the divine faces of Mara and Dibella.

-+-

The Asquerana sons stood upon the Chapel steps of Bruma with an unbroken tremor running through their limbs. The twin's steel armor rattled together as they began to realize the fact that they would not last upon the battlefield. They were going to _war_. They had taken a glimpse outside the walls of Bruma and saw only a select few of guards. How well could they hold back the armies of Mehrunes Dagon? The same Daedric Prince who led the bloody scourge?

Daelon stood tall with his hand grasping the hilt of his silver longsword. He could still hear the haunting laughter of Clavicus Vile buzzing within his mind. _He better keep to his word, _Daelon snarled as his frozen amber eyes lifted to the snow clouded skies. Caldwyn's eyes fell to his chest plate and a weak smile crossed his lips as he lifted a hand and dug under his armor. From his neck he pulled a rather worn bronze necklace with a tawny colored gem dangling from it. The Altmer turned to his twin and handed it to him with that same faltering grin. Orrick creased his brow and questioned lightly, "You're lucky gem?"

"I-I... I want you to have it," Caldwyn told him while placing it in his palm. "You were always the... the ill-fated one. You need it more than I do."

Orrick lowered his head allowing a few strands of hair to fall across his forehead. When he lifted his eyes he returned that same faltering grin while telling his brother, "Thank you, Caldwyn."

Daelon watched with sympathetic eyes for he knew that their skills would not protect them upon the theatre of war. They were merely lads who knew the basic skills to protect themselves against a wolf or a cave goblin.

How could they be prepared to slay the knights of Oblivion? Dagon's chosen warriors who would lead Tamerial to its inevitable demise? The elder brother turned away. His long hair falling beside his face as the wind used its nimble fingers to toss and play with it. His face was detached as he, too, began to grasp what he had volunteered for. Just as he thought all hope was lost, his sister's scorching blue eyes lit his soul once again with faith and his confidence had soared into the heavens. The elder Altmer lowered his head and continually told himself, _for Elizabeth... it's for... Elizabeth._

The Chapel doors had opened and the Grandmaster, the heir, and the Knight had sauntered upon the frozen streets of Bruma. Citizens had collected upon the sidewalks and walkways bidding their farewells and also their blessings to the last hope for Cyrodiil. A few guards embraced their loved ones in fear. Daelon witnessed as a man tore himself away from his wife's arms. Her eyes were swelling with frightened tears. The Altmer trembled as he saw a little girl rush out and grab onto her father's greaves. Her little fingers entwined around each other, grasping in fear of losing her father. Her eyes clenched closed as she refused to let him go. Daelon felt tears come to his eyes as the guard kneeled down and hugged his daughter, whispering to her, "I have to go and fight, honey. So no harm will come to you or your mother."

Daelon turned his eyes towards the Hero who seemed frozen. His eyes were hollow and he bore no sadness for the lives that would be taken upon this day. The knight looked over to Daelon and hissed, "Lose your fear and emotions before going into a battle. They only fuel your weaknesses."

With a nod of comprehension, Daelon began walking down the path to the grand doors of Bruma. The Hero led the way with Martin soon following and Jaufree covering the rear. Behind them walked the Asquerana men and a few other guards. The citizens of Bruma cheered as the final hope would walk into battle to safe the lives of thousands. The cheers lifted the spirits of the men and gave them the faith they needed to fight on.

The doors were hauled open and lined perfectly down the lane were a handful of trained guards who would fight alongside the Hero of Kvatch and the Heir to the Septim Throne. The feet of the warriors were the drums of war. They marched to the breeching Oblivion gate with hopes to save an entire nation. They marched not for a reward or to make a name for themselves. They marched for the warriors that lived and died for Tamerial. They marched for their lives and the lives of the generations to come.

-+-

The wind howled in the wastelands of Oblivion. The sun fell between barriers in the bloodied sky and darkness began to loom over the towers of Oblivion. Even the lava turned to ashes upon this day. Death began to overcome everything.

It was time.

Broga's crimson eyes lifted to the horizon as he stood upon a jagged cliff that overlooked the portals that were trying to be connected to Tamerial. His structure became as rough as stone. Mehrunes Dagon would not allow disappointment in his final plan to rule over another realm. The weight of the war began to weigh itself upon one Dremora's shoulders and one only. If his armies failed, Broga failed, and Lord Dagon would send him to be tortured for thousands of years to come.

No... he couldn't let that happen.

Upon the gravel hillside trail, a mage approached. He bowed before his superior and called out to him hoping to take his attention away from the dying lava, "Sir, the first gate is nearly anchored. Your orders for the first regiment?"

Broga leaned upon a gargantuan boulder while answering his brethren, "... the first regiment sent shall be General Folconaz. Then after shall be General Yahkem and finally my regiment."

"Yes sir," the Mage spoke while rushing off to forewarn the initial brigade.

The Black Dremora turned and lifted his eyes to the vanishing form of the Watch Tower. His crimson eyes shimmered with a mixture of sorrow and fidelity. His fidelity was split into halves for one belonged to Lord Dagon and the other to the Altmer scholar. Oblivious as she was to the fact of his devotion, he would not let it falter even to the least. He lifted a hand and pressed his smooth fingertips upon the jagged scar that had been carved by Elizabeth's hand on that day in Kvatch when he had attempted to have his way with her. Broga let his eyes drift back down upon the newborn gates and with a heaved sigh the commander purred, "... and so it begins."

Down near the bony structure of the first gate stood a very dutiful Xilivicus. He was one of the primary warriors of General Yahkem's regiment. He overheard the mage speak to the generals and the Churl couldn't help but to feel an overwhelmed cynicism in his heart. By the time his gate had anchored, would the warriors of Tamerial be alive? He feared for the lives of the Cyrodiil; yet, feared his own as well. He was naught but mortal now. A human just like the warriors of Tamerial. If his heart was struck with a cruel blade, he would not resurface in the lava like he had so many a time. He would float forever in the dark abyss of Nocturnal's realm, or possibly reincarnate as a witless Clannfear. The life after death was unknown to him.

"General Folconaz," the Mage called out. "... We're ready."

-+-

The guards lined up for the final time upon thin sheets of snow. Martin walked down the line eyeing each man hoping that the courage and faith he held would somehow flow into each of their hearts. From his mouth fell moving words and each guard and knight grasped their swords and ripped them from their sheathes. These would be the only instrument that would protect them and keep them alive. Their hearts beat like drums now as they had already observed the gate breech Bruma's ice-covered soil. Was this the gate they had feared? It looked just like the gates they had closed near their cities.

However, the Hero was not fooled. His eyes were knowledgeable and he was certain that this was only the first of the gates to come. How many would breech upon this day? He didn't know. Upon his belt were two swords. The customary silver longsword was upon his left and upon his right, shrouded by his crimson cape, was the unholy claymore that Broga had presented to him.

The once snow-white clouds cascading through the skies now turned to red as they were soiled with a darkened blood. Thunder crept through the heavens and lightning struck down not so far off. The arrival of the Daedra was not far from now, they were sure. The last of the Kvatch guards shook with fear for this reminded them of the night their own city fell into Dagon's clutches. It wasn't long now, the guards thought.

The Asquerana men stood tall as the swirling of the gate began to morph and from the hellfire the first swarm walked. Their bodies were sheltered with armor that was as black as night. Their swords were hellish and brutal with jagged spines and soiled tips. Only three Daedra emerged and the guards felt their hearts lighten as the favors began to turn towards them; however, not for long.

The hellfire spat out more unholy phantoms from Oblivion. Grand burly Daedroth stalked from the flames with bloodlust in their eyes. Spider Daedra crawled from the crooked black bones of the gate with laughter in their throats as they looked upon the great warriors of Tamerial. They were nothing but foolhardy children. More Daedra flowed from Oblivion and the guards feared even more for their lives.

The sides stared at one another wondering which blade will strike first. Suddenly, through the horde of Daedra, the general stepped out as the first to clash his blade with a rival. But who would step up to the Dremora's challenge? From behind the guards, Daelon sprinted out into the open. The blackened blade of Umbra dragged for a moment across the ground before being lifted into the air for the kill. Daelon thrusted his blade down upon the general who answered the dare with his own Daedric longsword.

The war had begun.

The sides flooded upon the battlefield and entwined. Blades clashed faster then lightning and bodies moved like swift billows of the wind. Heads were decapitated with only a single blow, limbs were torn off by the strong claws of a Daedroth, and muscles had been peeled clean from the neck of guards by the jagged jaws of a Spider Daedra. Screams of agonizing pain lifted into the mountains and echoed off to the bloodied skies as blood fell like rain upon the warriors of either side. The Hero sprinted forward and leapt upon the back of a Daedroth, thrusting his blade into the scaly hind of the monster. Blood spurted upon his face and ran down across his lips as he knew he had struck the heart.

The monster gave off an eerie cry as its eyes drained of light and its corpse toppled over to the soil soon staining the grass with sinful blood. Caldwyn and Orrick functioned only as a team. Their blades were wicked as they flowed together as one, defeating enemies easily. They mercilessly chopped through the onyx limbs of a Spider Daedra, to render her immobilized. With the ending strike, they struck her heart and killed her. Their blades were coated with mixed blood as they took down many a monster. The deal made with Clavicus Vile turned out to be one that Daelon did not regret. His heart was hard and his muscles were strengthened as he fought on. Blood stained his hair and face and he even got the bittersweet taste to flow into his mouth.

His sword slipped through the armor of a Dremora and as he pulled it from the carcass he saw there were no more Daedra escaping through the gate. His eyes lifted and he turned around to see that only a division of the guards had perished. Was that the end of the war? A few guards cheered and pulled each other into tightened embraces soon turning to leave for Bruma. Martin; however, was not satisfied. His darkened eyes were upon the Oblivion gate for he knew that the war was truly not over.

The Hero of Kvatch stepped forward and from the ground he felt a vibration. What in the world could that be? Caldwyn hoisted Orrick off the ground from their recent kill and soon they too felt the rumble beneath their boots. Daelon tossed his gaze about and beckoned to the wind, "... what is that?"

One of the remaining guards of Kvatch stumbled back and with a face as white as death he gasped, "... God's blood... it's... it's..."

"It's another gate!" the Hero bellowed out to the guards.

From the soil two jagged bones erected. They tore through the sky and pierced the heavens. They drew even more blood from the clouds turning the day even darker then night itself. Baurus, who stood rather close to Jaufree, looked upon the second gate as the two onyx structures formed an arch and the hellfire began to churn within the core. "... They're going to keep opening gates... until we're all dead." He whispered with a loss of optimism in his voice.

"... then don't... die," Jaufree snarled while catching his breath and straightening his clutch upon his katana.

The remaining warriors prepared themselves as they saw from the inferno, the next wave of Daedra appear.

-+-

"Xilivicus," Broga called out as he had approached the newly anchored gate.

The Churl glanced over his shoulder and made his way through the regiment that was beginning to enter Tamerial. He saluted his superior and came to attention before him, replying to his call, "Yes sir?"

"I want you to take the way to the Oblivion realm where the Great Sigil stone is kept. Your sword shall not be needed in this massacre."

"B-But... sir," Xilivicus stammered while attempting to comprehend the new orders. "I've... I've been training to fight for the last few days—I want to be a soldier of this battle!"

Broga's eyes were harsh as they fell upon his inferior with annoyance shimmering in his narrowed pupils, "You are needed in the Sigil realm. I want you to stand by the front and make certain that the Siege Crawler makes its way into Cyrodiil, do you understand me?"

"Siege Crawler," Xilivicus echoed softly with confusion in his eyes, "... what is the..."

Broga chuckled nonchalantly as he placed his rigid hand upon the Churl's shoulder. "It's what we shall use to annihilate the remnants of Cyrodiil. It's a true _beauty_." He lifted his hand and placed it by his side as he returned to his commanding position. "... Leave at once, Xilivicus. If you see anyone enter through that portal, kill them. It won't be long until the Great Gate is opened to Cyrodiil."

With a tenacious glare, the Churl snarled, "...as you command, _sir_." With that, he pushed onwards and promptly left for the entrance to the Sigil Keep knowing that the only guest he would acquire in that domain would be none other then the Hero of Kvatch and the man he would be entrust Elizabeth to.

-+-

"Mara... Dibella?" Elizabeth wheezed as she looked upon their charming faces. She felt the urge to fall onto her knees with praise; however, there were questions that needed to be answered foremost.

"Yes, my dear," Mara purred with her melodic tone of voice, "we do not have much time to answer all your questions..."

"... There are more important matters at hand," Dibella chimed as she pushed away from the throne and glided forward. "... Matters that involve the fate of Cyrodiil."

"... and the fate of your heart," Mara included while fiddling with the tip of her rope soon lifting her eyes to the Altmer.

Elizabeth's brow creased with confusion as she looked upon her divine goddesses. This surely couldn't be a dream. This was all too detailed and complex unlike her dreams would be. "... What... what are you talking about?"

"As you slumber, the realms of Oblivion and Tamerial are blending as one. They clash together in war and hatred. Lives upon both sides are being lost to this ghastly quarrel." Mara informed her while soon sitting upon the comfortable cushions of the vacant throne.

"As we speak, the primary warriors from the realms of Oblivion and Tamerial shall collide in a match to the death. The stakes are high upon either side, you see." Dibella spoke while drifting closer. She peeled the petals from her once beautiful flower leaving it bare and ugly. "If the Champion of Oblivion loses his life... so do you lose the one you love—"

"—Xilivicus," whispered Elizabeth with a heart swollen of heartache.

"... If the Champion of Cyrodiil falls dead... you lose everyone you once held dear and also the life you always knew." Dibella continued with sorrow in her voice.

Elizabeth looked upon the goddesses and begged from them, "What shall I do?"

Mara laughed lightly and reclined upon the throne, "What you do best, my dear. You run away."

"Mara," Dibella scolded while tossing her glare back upon her.

The goddess of Love shrugged her heavy shoulders as she pushed herself upright and quickly defended herself, "Elizabeth, if you intervene then you shall be the one to fall victim to death. If your sudden casualty causes the Champions to see the wrong in their actions then the only thing you will win from it is the fact that Tamerial shall live on and the two realms shall be separated forever."

Dibella turned to Elizabeth and told her, "... if you don't intervene then death may prey upon both the Champions and you shall live in Oblivion for the rest of your life with a broken heart and a stolen freedom."

Elizabeth's head bowed in consideration to both the cases. She lived or she died. Either way she did not win. But this war wasn't about her. It was about the future of Tamerial and the end of the Oblivion. As her eyes lifted, the goddesses saw something they never thought imaginable. They saw more courage and bravery then any army of Tamerial or Oblivion combined. "How do I get into the Sigil keep of Oblivion?"

Mara's face fell in despair and Dibella's rose in happiness. The goddess of Beauty embraced the Altmer and told her, "Follow the path of knowledge to the Elder mage's keep. There you shall find yourself an old mage—"

"Xarovica," Elizabeth grinned.

"Precisely!" Dibella beamed, "He shall provide you with a way to the Sigil keep in time to stop the clash of the Champions."

Mara furrowed her brow and spoke out softly, "... upon the battlefield... lies a boy of your blood," her eyes lifted to Elizabeth as she told her, "... your brother has been defeated."

The bravery and courage in Elizabeth's eyes faded as she heard this. Her body became weak and she called out, "... what?"

Dibella grimaced and grabbed the Altmer by the shoulders. She turned Elizabeth towards her and demanded, "Keep to your goal, Elizabeth! You need to stay focused upon your goal!"

The Altmer turned her frightened eyes to Dibella. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she whimpered lightly, "... be with him Dibella."

The goddess nodded slightly and replied, "I will... now go!"

Elizabeth's eyes blurred as the castle walls of Kvatch dissipated into blackness and the young maiden's body disappeared into a black void, soon she would be awake and she would only have a matter of time to get to the Sigil keep before the Hero did.

**_--TBC-- _**

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**_Read and Review!!! Last few chapters a head, you don't want to discourage me that I'm not doing a good job at writing. Write reviews and fuel me to make the last chapters longer then the others. _**


	24. The Encounter of the Champions

**_Thank you all for the reviews and the critique. I am glad that there are still people who wish to read this story. I do hope you enjoy. _**

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-+-

The second quadrant that had escaped the vast wastelands of Oblivion had been destroyed, but not as effortlessly as the first. More guards had fallen and hope ran dry. Daelon held back a charging Dremora who wielded a great battleaxe. The Altmer stumbled back with widened as he whispered to the wind, "... how many... more bloody gates?!"

The bodies began to pile upon a snowy mountain terrain. The Hero turned and called out, "How are you holding up, Martin?"

The heir laughed uncertainly as he rolled his shoulders attempting to bring them back to life for they had fallen numb during his last fights. "I'm doing fine," his head turned to a side and he looked at Jaufree, "... and you, Grandmaster?"

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he huffed while wiping a coat of sweat from his brow. "However, I believe I'm holding my own."

"Good," Martin said while turning forward. He saw the still standing twins and he grinned while calling out to them. They stood so far away between the gap of the two defeated Oblivion gates, "How are you doing, boys?"

Orrick lifted his helmet from his head allowing the arctic mountain breeze to rush past his drenched hair. A few droplets of blood had crystallized to his face; nevertheless, he was not disturbed by this. "We're doing fine, milord!"

Caldwyn lifted his helmet as well with a scoff, "Speak for yourself! This armor is chaffing against areas I don't wish to speak of."

"Then don't," Orrick laughed while glancing over to his brother.

Daelon stepped over the fallen bodies with his long black cape draping over their frozen facades. His ebony armor gleamed with freshly drawn blood that was not of his own. He turned his eyes to Martin and questioned, "... shall we send for more guards, sir?"

"Why?" a nearby Cheydinhal guard questioned, "We've got them bastards beat! They outnumbered us and still we prevail! It looks like Tamriel has one this war."

The eldest Altmer tossed his eyes to a nearby puddle of blood and saw the contents beginning to tremor. His vivid amber eyes narrowed as he sneered, "... don't be so sure about that."

The wind began to bay and press down upon the somnolent soldiers as they stood motionless in the battlefield. Their eyes shifted about attempting to locate the next gate, if there was one. The ground began to quake and a few boulders from the nearby mountain plummeted to ground level. Daelon retreated back towards the other guards as the rumbling became far fiercer than the additional roar from the other archway. The Hero stepped forward with a creased brow as he slowly sheathed his tainted silver longsword and enveloped his hand around the hilt of the Daedric Claymore. Could it be probable that _this_ was his gate?

The billowing clouds darkened even more so, turning the day into shadows allowing only the thundering firestorm to be the sources of light for the fighters of Tamriel. Orrick and Caldwyn felt their legs vibrate so harshly that it nearly knocked them off their feet. All of a sudden, before the twins arose two immense jagged thorns from the surface of the earth. These two structures were nearly ten times the size of the regular archways. From their sides came even more wicked thorns that pierced the mountain sky. A lake of fire burned from the earth as well and rocketed to the sky soon causing the entire horizon to turn into a hellish portrait. Caldwyn and Orrick stumbled back as they attempted to lift their eyes to see the end of this abomination; however, no matter how far they tilted their heads they could never see the end.

Martin's pupils disappeared as he gawked upon this gate. His hand loosened and he nearly dropped his sword as he wheezed, "... by... the Nines..."

The Hero steadied himself as he knew within his hardened heart that this was the gate Broga had told him about. He drew his Claymore and stood tall as he knew that he would be protected by Broga and he needed not to fear the monsters of this gate. Daelon was mesmerized for a few seconds until he saw the first wave of Daedra escape the gate. He tore his eyes away and suddenly he felt his heart fall.

From the dancing flames marched a fully suited Broga. He walked gracefully upon the drifts of snow as he approached the remains of Tamriel's grand warriors. As his Daedric boots came in contact with the snow it melted it instantaneously and turned it to a feeble steam. He ambled onward with a bloodlust lingering in his crimson eyes. Behind him, a wave of thirty greatly armed Kynmarchers with a few Markynaz hauling the heaviest of Daedric War-hammers advanced forward with the same lust that their Commander had looming in their black hearts.

Daelon tossed his eyes before the Great Dremora as he saw his own brother rush forward to welcome him with a strike. The Altmer's heart leaped up his throat as he bellowed at Caldwyn over the clamor from the opened gates and the shrieking wind, "CALDWYN! NO!"

The wind was too overpowering and Daelon's voice was far too weak to make it over to his brother. Caldwyn stormed forward with his rapier in hand. His grin began to falter with each step he took for with each step he came nearer to the monster and saw just how immense Broga truly was. He loomed a few feet over the young lad with no mercy at all for striking down a child. He was too close now to retreat. Caldwyn let out a battle cry as he lifted his sword and swung it down upon the Dremora.

His blade collided with Broga's hand and hadn't caused any damage to him. Caldwyn's eyes widened in dread for he put his entire strength into harming this Daedra and he couldn't even draw blood! Broga narrowed his eyes as he lifted Caldwyn off his feet by seizing his wrist. The Altmer cried out as his wrist was gripped even tighter and his arm felt like it was about to be pulled from the socket. He lifted his eyes and could see the detailed features of the Dremora's face. He could see the wicked maroon scar that lead down the left side of his face and the hatred that had devoured his soul.

The Dremora gripped even harder soon feeling his arm shudder. Caldwyn's face twisted in pain as he felt his bones snap out of place and jut through his skin. He bit into his lower lip drawing a few droplets of his own blood. Broga grinned and purred out to the Altmer, "You are very strong for such an arrogant child. You would have made a great warrior..."

He jerked his hand and forced the sword to fall from Caldwyn's grasp soon twirling across the air and settling motionlessly upon the land. Broga held strongly upon the Altmer as he walked forward for Tamriel to watch. The guards stood; apprehensive, for they were only allowed to watch now. Daelon felt his grasp tighten around the hilt of Umbra as the hatred from the rapier slowly began to seep within his gauntlets and into his very flesh.

Broga's gaze shifted between the guardsman and the heir as he had known he had received their attention. Now, he would need them to fear him. With his unoccupied hand he unsheathed his Daedric Claymore. It mounted perfectly in his hand and for his immense size it appeared only as a longsword. He placed the tip upon Caldwyn's chest and he questioned him, "... any last words before you triumphantly give your life for Tamriel?"

Caldwyn breathed heavily as he began to realize what was happening. His body began to tense and he knew that he could not allow himself to submit to the will of this Dremora. He lifted his eyes and snarled into the Commander's face, "... my brothers will skin your hide with your own blade, you bastard! The Asquerana family shall not be defeated so easily nor shall Tamriel!"

Broga's blade hindered as he looked upon this young man. As he looked upon the face he saw flashes of Elizabeth storm his mind. His grip tightened and he snarled to the young lad, "Be honored that it is my blade that takes your life, my son." With one great thrust, he plunged the waved jagged blade through the Altmer's armor and out through the top of his back. Caldwyn coughed up blood as he felt the cool sensation of the rapier pierce through his ribs and much of his internal organs.

Orrick felt himself weaken as he watched this horrific display. His face twisted and his hands rung the hilt of his blade as he attempted to run forward; yet, Daelon caught him and dragged him back. The youngest son thrashed about as he cried out, "T-That's our brother, Daelon! Damnit, he's _killing_ him!" Tears rolled over his cheeks.

Daelon narrowed his eyes and held his last brother tightly as he whispered back, "He's too strong for you!"

Broga closed his eyes as he felt the energy from the dying Altmer flow through his blade and up into his arm. He sighed profoundly and tossed his blade to his side, allowing Caldwyn to slide off and roll across the snow leaving a trail of blood behind him like a crimson ribbon. The Commander advanced and just as the last of his men escaped the gate he bellowed to them in their native language. The Daedra scattered across the battlefield soon storming the guardsmen. Orrick ran over and fell beside his brother with misty eyes. He lifted his twin's head and attempted to snap him from the overwhelming sleep, "Caldwyn! CALDWYN! Don't fall asleep... g-god's blood... don't you dare leave me!"

Caldwyn laughed softly as blood rolled through his lips and fell cascaded down upon his armor. He lifted his narrowed eyes as he incoherently spoke, "... and here... I thought you were the ill-fated one."

Orrick laughed weakly as he grasped his brother's armor. His lips trembled and he shook his head, "... Caldwyn..."

"Go," Caldwyn whispered while glancing over to the battlefield. "...Tamriel needs you more then I do."

Orrick closed his eyes as he felt his heart begin to rip itself apart inside his chest. His frozen shell began to decompose around him for he had never felt so much fear and sorrow in his entire life. He gripped his brother's hand and grinned weakly, "... goodbye, brother."

Orrick attempted to grip back; however, his grip was lost and his hand fell idly by his side. The life slipped from his bloodied corpse before he even got the chance to whisper his goodbye. Orrick pushed himself to his feet and hurriedly he rushed to his brother's fallen sword. He lifted it and sheathed in place of his own sword. He gripped his sword and rushed off into battle hoping to bring his brother's death honor.

The Hero proceeded to the gate, chopping off a few limbs from his rival warriors for they had attempted to fight him; yet, he was far stronger then them. A claymore swung from behind the Hero and he swung around soon blocking the blow. His eyes lifted and he saw the Commander and he pulled his blade away. Broga narrowed his eyes and snarled out to the Hero through gnashed teeth, "... go... Xilivicus is within that portal."

With a nod of comprehension, the Hero turned and ran to the portal. Broga grinned brightly and turned soon decapitating a nearby guard. Standing nearby, Daelon watched with betrayed eyes. The Commander and the Knight...? Surely they couldn't be... The Altmer sprinted to the portal as well hoping that he could stop whatever treachery the Hero was committing against this war, if any.

-+-

Elizabeth had snapped from her dream with perspiration gleaming upon her porcelain skin. Her eyes darted across the room as she pushed herself up off the slab. She leapt up and ran to the grand veranda to see no Daedra walking down below. Had her dream actually been the truth of matters? Her heart was burdensome, but she knew what she had to do. She ran over and pulled on her thick cowhide boots hoping that would be all the protection she would need. She was swift as she leapt the stairs and sprinted across the red sand of Oblivion. Her heart pounded like a drum beneath her breast. Her arms pumped up and down forcing more energy into her legs that pushed her forward.

She turned down a few corners, forgetting for only a moment where Xarovica's tower was. Her head pivoted about as she decided upon a path and directed herself down it. The mage's tower loomed over the other structures and she pushed herself to dash even faster. Her adrenaline coursed through her veins sevenfold. She shoulder blasted the door open ignoring the twinge of pain. Her feet carried her up the stairs as she called out desperately to the elder. She rounded the bend to the second level with fearful eyes.

Xarovica stumbled out behind his alchemist cupboard with a furrowed brow, "Elizabeth... w-what's wrong?"

"X-X... Xilivicus..." she wheezed.

The Elder's eyes widened and he limped closer with a trembling hoarse voice, "... what happened? Is he all right?"

Elizabeth furrowed her brow as she caught her breath and told the elder of her dream. She spoke of the clash of the Champions and the fear she held for their lives. "... I need you to send me to the Sigil keep to find Xilivicus before the Hero of Kvatch does!"

Xarovica's brow fell over his eyes as he nodded and quickly turned towards his cupboard. He rushed over and tossed the doors open while informing the girl, "... I fear that if the Champion of your world comes across Xilivicus that our young Churl shall be the first to fall victim to his blade. Without Daedric blood coursing through his veins, Xilivicus is no stronger then an average mortal man. He is condemned to death."

"I can't let that happen, Elder-Xarovica," Elizabeth argued while stepping closer. "Xilivicus gave his life for mine-- no matter how much he is pushing me from his life-- I shall return the favor."

"That is a very noble thing, my dear," Xarovica purred while pulling a freshly brewed Elixir of Death from the cupboard. "However, that is not necessary. If we can get Xilivicus to drink this vial then shall he be restored to his Daedric glory and be able to fend himself against the Champion of Cyrodiil."

Elizabeth's shoulders fell as she spoke lightly, "... but if the Hero dies... then inevitably my world shall perish, too."

Xarovica heaved a troubled sigh as he replied to her statement, "... and so comes the complexity of choosing which one you would rather have. You may live forever with Xilivicus in the land of the dead—or you may live forever with the Champion of Cyrodiil in the land of the living."

The Altmer's curved ears fell as her eyes narrowed and she questioned, "... can I not be told which answer would be right?"

"There is no right or wrong in this situation, my dear. You must let your heart decide for you." Xarovica told her while walking to her with the bottle in hand. "... I shall personally guide you upon the certain plane of Oblivion. I still have some magicka in this old carcass of mine. I cannot say how useful I will be to you, but something is better then nothing." A weak smile pulled across his lips as he questioned, "... are you ready, Elizabeth?"

"Yes," she said while standing tall.

Xarovica placed his hand upon her shoulder and a wicked cerulean energy overcame the couple and their bodies disappeared into a cyclone of smoke.

-+-

The Hero fell through the Oblivion gate and rolled across the ground. The wind was blown from his lungs and he coughed for a moment as he lifted himself and gazed at the hellish sight of this Great Gate. His eyes widened as he saw an advancing Daedric machine come towards the gate. Four great blades were its head and its body resembled a mechanized spider. It crossed through the river of lava with great procrastination. The Hero lifted his eyes into the dark Oblivion sky as he observed each tower. They all crossed over onto the Sigil Tower. His eyes narrowed as he advanced hoping that before he reached that tower, he would rid his world of that Daedric abomination.

Upon one of the walkways of the towers stood the Churl, he made his round through the plane for the second time. His eyes fell down upon the gate and his heart cowered as he saw the Hero stalk towards the parallel tower. He moved closer and kneeled upon the catwalk with narrowed eyes. _Could this have been Broga's doing?_ How absurd, the Hero was ordained to seal this portal for it was one of the final stages to destroying the connection between Oblivion and Tamriel forever.

Xilivicus reached for his blade with a hesitant hand. He finally gripped the hilt and tore it from its sheath knowing that it was his blade that was predestined to finish the Hero's existence.

-+-

The power of Mara and Dibella seeped out through the battlefield and poured upon the warriors of Tamriel. Their blades were strengthened and their hearts were hardened as they brandished their enemies; callous. The Daedra were being beaten and a few had retreated into the portals. Broga stumbled back as the old Grandmaster Blade had nearly knocked him off his feet. The Commander turned his eyes to the Great Gate and just as he had he saw another man run into Oblivion.

His heart cringed and with agility the Commander leapt over fallen bodies and even bounded over battling warriors. He feared that this additional Tamriel warrior would be a nuisance to his well organized strategy. His eyes lifted to the scorching archway and with one great bound he leapt through to the other side.

-+-

Xarovica and Elizabeth reappeared near the grand master door to the Sigil tower; however, pulling the Great Sigil stone from its pedestal was not the objective in mind. The maiden sheltered her eyes as she was nearly blinded from the lava. As her eyes reopened she looked upon the rear of the Siege Crawler and her body became feeble. She attempted to conjure a voice to herself; however, it was futile.

The Elder stalked down the limestone walkway as he looked upon the towers with narrowed eyes, "... if Xilivicus would be anywhere, he would be stationed in rather the east or west secondary towers."

Elizabeth gasped and rushed over to Xarovica soon grasping his arm and jerking him back. A fire tower had tossed at the couple a raging fireball that struck the ground and soon faded into nothing. The Altmer glanced over to the elder and questioned, "Not even Daedra are safe in this realm, are they?"

"No one is safe anywhere," Elder-Xarovica told her while hurriedly making his way to one of the towers, hoping to evade anymore spiteful encounters with those revolving carousels of flames.

-+-

The Hero watched as the door in the tower's keep quickly slid back showing him Oblivion's wasteland. He rushed out upon the catwalk with his sword in hand. He focused upon the Sigil tower for surely Xilivicus would be there. Out of no where, an arrow was shot from on top of one of the towers. The arrow hit the Hero's enchanted claymore soon knocking it from his grasp. His eyes widened as he watched it flip through the air and soon land upon the back of the Siege Crawler. With hateful eyes, the Hero glared up in the direction the arrow had come from. Upon the tower's keep, Xilivicus kneeled with a conjured Daedric bow in his hand. As he released his grip, it disappeared into a violet swirl of smoke. A smirk pulled across his ashen lips as he knew that the Hero was now unarmed.

Out of pure lunacy, the Hero turned to the boiling river of lava and leapt through the air soon falling down upon the back of the Siege Crawler. Xilivicus' eyes widened as he could not allow his rival to do this. The Churl leapt from the tower's steeple and quickly sprinted across the ramp. With a deep breath, he leapt from the bridge and collided upon the anterior of the weapon of great devastation. He landed gracefully with his Daedric longsword gripped in his hand. His eyes narrowed and he called out, "... it has been a while, Champion."

The Hero looked upon the Churl with confusion as he thought him to be Daedric. He did not want to bother with mere questions of race and alteration. He leapt towards the Claymore and shoveled it into his palm. Just at that time, the Churl had bounded forward and swiped his sword down upon the Hero.

In a moment, the Champion lifted his claymore and blocked the blow. He shoved Xilivicus back and nearly made him loose his footing upon the machine. The Churl tossed his eyes for a second to the lava. If the Hero didn't end him, the plummet into the magma certainly would be. Upon the slender back of the Siege Crawler did they continue to clash blades. Their bodies flowed together as they came together so close it appeared that they had blended as one. Shards of metal came from their Daedric weapons for with each strike they summoned more strength to themselves.

"... not bad," the Hero huffed as he pushed his blade across Xilivicus'. He swung his arm around and pummeled his firm jagged steel gauntlet into the Churl's face soon sending him sliding across the Siege Crawler, dropping his blade into the lava below. "... But not good enough."

Xilivicus rolled to his left as the Hero brought his Claymore down in an attempt to finish the Churl. With a small smirk, Xilivicus spun around and tripped the Hero soon sending him falling upon his back. The Daedric Claymore slipped from his hand and teetered upon the end of the machine. With a chuckle, Xilivicus purred, "... I was about to say the same."

The Hero glared detestably at him as he spun upon his stomach and reached for the Claymore, his fingertips scarcely caressing across the surface of the rapier. The Churl pushed himself upon his feet and he attempted to seize the claymore as well. Just as he hunched down to pick it up, the Hero seized his leg and tore him backwards. The heavy body of the man fell upon one of the crooks of the Crawler and his shoulder was thrown out of place. He groaned in agony as he could feel the muscles and tendons pulling. His fiery eyes shifted back to the Hero as he seized his own shoulder and with one great thrust he forced it back into a place. A bloodcurdling snap echoing soon after the relocation. The Champion grasped the claymore and leapt up to his feet soon preparing his stance. The Crawler inched across the lava with quaking and jerky movements.

In front of the great gate, Daelon appeared from the hellfire. His eyes grew wide as he looked upon this hellish landscape. Never before had he seen the contents of Oblivion's realm. He stalked forward and wheezed through loose lips, "... God's blood..."

The raging storm lingering in the sky fell upon the realm as the wind lashed at the Altmer's back ripping his hair from its bondage and tossing it carelessly in the wind. As Daelon advanced he looked upon the great Siege Crawler with both interest and dread. Upon its jagged back he saw two wicked figures that moved so charismatically. He narrowed his eyes and purred gently out to the wind, "... Xilivicus...?"

A twinge rang through the Altmer's ears and hurriedly, Daelon spun around and lifted Umbra into the air. The clash of a Daedric Claymore rang against the soul trapping longsword sending out a few sparks that cascaded and vanished upon the sands of Oblivion. Daelon lifted his enlarged eyes as he beheld the beast before him. Broga's grand physique lifted into the air as he grinned down upon the Altmer. He pushed his claymore even further down soon forcing the Altmer to retreat a few steps. Daelon tore his sword away and leapt back soon preparing himself for rather a defensive or offensive stance.

Broga stepped back and removed his cuirass, gauntlets, and boots from his body. He pitilessly tossed the perfectly conditioned armor aside for he knew he would not need it. Instead, he would need much agility and speed to outmaneuver and outwit his opponent. The Dremora laughed gently as he stepped forward with the tip of his claymore dragging across the ground. "... I remember you... yes... you're Elizabeth's brother. You stood before me in Anvil. You have much courage and allegiance to stand opposed an enemy you can't conquer." Broga allowed his shoulders to fall as he cocked his head and looked upon Daelon with curiosity. "... You look as if you are inclined to challenge me. On what terms do you think you are worthy of confronting me?"

"You killed my brother," snarled Daelon who gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter. His knuckles turned pale as he bellowed out above the howling of the wind, "You killed him without mercy!"

"Oh please," scoffed Broga with a grin. "He walked into that war knowing the consequences of what may happen if he partook. It just so happened that it was I who killed him and not one of my brothers. Feel honored that he died at my hands! I would revere his spirit more than anyone else would have. Is that why you are fighting me? To bring justice to your family name?"

"Partially," Daelon replied.

Broga turned his eyes to the Siege Crawler. His eyes expanded as he saw the combating figures of the Champions. His neck stretched as he attempted to see further, alas, he couldn't. While storming toward the war gate; Broga snarled, "I do not have time to fight you, Altmer."

Daelon stepped in front of Broga with a glare. He lifted his sword and readied himself as he demanded, "Make time, Dremora."

The Commander's eyes fell upon the violet gleam of Umbra. Memories flooded his mind and softly a smirk pulled across his onyx lips as his throat sheltered a chuckle. Broga lifted his claymore while cooing, "... this may be fascinating."

-+-

Elizabeth and Xarovica climbed the granite ramps up to the tower's keep with anticipation in their hearts. The old Dremora carried the elixir safety in a leather pack hanging from his shoulder. The old man wheezed for he hadn't gotten this much exercise in many years. However, Elizabeth was doing exceedingly well. She was reminded of the first day she spent in Oblivion and how tiring the ramps were back then. Today, she showed much more strength then she ever had. Her muscles were toned and firm as she sprinted up the ramps feeling the burn in her calves. They reached the keep and upon arrival, Elizabeth shoved open the doors rapidly and looked upon the great bridge that led out across the wasteland to another tower. The rampant winds swiped furiously at the couple as they rushed out across the bridge and stopped near the core soon turning their eyes to the Siege Crawler.

Elizabeth watched in dismay as Xilivicus' broken and bruised body toppled across the Siege Crawler and fell limply upon the beginning of the machine. The Hero huffed deep breaths as he walked forward with the claymore thirsting for its first taste of the Churl's blood. _One strike_, the Hero thought, _and it will all be over_. His golden drenched curls loosened and fell over his face as he stalked forward. Perspiration and steam from the lava burdened his body making his blood simmer. His eyes widened with lunacy as he gripped the hilt of the claymore so confidently that the steel of his gauntlets began to crush and hack into his knuckles.

Xilivicus groaned as he feebly pushed himself up on his trembling legs. Blood caressed the side of his cheek for he had been sliced there by one of the jutted sections of the Hero's gauntlets. The Churl turned to the Hero heaving weary breaths. Just as he was about to succumb to the Hero's blade, he heard someone beckon him. His eyes shifted to one of the bridges of the towers and he saw Elizabeth and Xarovica standing next to each other with gloom written on their poises. His eyes narrowed as he called out, "... Elizabeth?"

The Hero grimaced and turned as well to see the maiden. His heart swelled and he rejoiced in her safety; however, cursed her abrupt entrance for now she would have to witness the former-Dremora's demise. With a scowl, the Hero turned back to Xilivicus and lifted the claymore to strike. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she screamed the Churl's name. Xilivicus faced forward and in a moment's notice he dodged the wicked rapier by diving forward and rolling across the surface of the crawler.

Xarovica dug his worn hand through his pack soon lifting from the contents the Elixir of Death which would convert his brother back into his Daedric form. "... Xilivicus!"

The Churl tossed his eyes over and watched as the elder tossed the gleaming onyx bottle through the air. Just as the wind had kissed the bottle, the Hero turned and prepared himself. The Churl stepped forward reaching his hand out into the air arranging himself to seize it before it plummeted deep beneath the scorching magma's surface. All that the Hero could hear now was his own heart race within his head. He heard naught of the thunder looming in the bloodied sky, or even the Crawler stepping forward; only his heart. With each step he took forward towards the Churl, he heard his heart pound even louder until it was nearly shattering his eardrums.

Xilivicus' body stretched as he pulled himself into the air and reached his hand high into the heavens. His fingertips were trembling as he could feel the soft cold surface of the bottle kiss his fingertips. His eyes widened as he was sure that he wouldn't be able to grasp such a sleek item. Abruptly, the churl felt a twinge of pain in his side as the Hero dug his jagged steel shoulder into his side. Xilivicus felt his veins rush with fear as he toppled through the air. He couldn't remember much after besides watching as the sky grew farther away as he plummeted downward. He reached his hand for one of the mechanical legs of the Siege Crawler; however, it was far from his reach. He shifted in the air and turned to see boiling gasses of the lava explode and consume his body. His armor disintegrated and his skin turned black as he was charred. The life slipped from him as he plummeted into the embrace of the magma.

-+-

Broga skidded across the ground with a chuckle. He lifted himself and turned towards Daelon with a grin as he lifted his knuckles and brushed away the few droplets of blood that rolled down from the corner of his lips. "... very good... _very_ good."

Daelon clutched tightly onto Umbra as he steadied himself. He felt the energy rushing through his body as he gripped even tighter upon this soul-trapping sword. Broga's Daedric Claymore had been torn from his hands and tossed many feet away; lying beneath a boulder. The Dremora sidestepped while questioning, "... what was the deal, hmm? That is how you got that sword, right?"

The Altmer turned his head and spit a mixture of saliva and blood as he replied, "... it's... none of your concern, demon."

Broga laughed as he continued to pace around Daelon. He kept his senses alert as he stepped around the Altmer, hoping that he would not attempt to attack him. "... you think that you were exalted with this much power naturally? That sword is absorbing your soul as long as you hold onto it and demonstrate to it your perpetual fury. Considering as to how it is I who you are attacking, I would suppose that Vile wanted my soul as well. Also judging by the matter of circumstances, the deal was my soul for the safe return of your sister, am I correct?"

Daelon narrowed his eyes and held Umbra even closer to himself as he snarled, "... and here I thought all Daedra were imprudent murdering zealots."

"Oh no," Broga chuckled while stepping closer; "... that's just the majority of my Kyn. Release the blade now, Altmer. I do not wish to soil my hands with the blood of another Asquerana."

An ear-shattering scream shattered across the plane of Oblivion causing Daelon to swirl around with widened eyes. His ears fell as he looked up to one of the towers and wheezed, "... Elizabeth!"

Broga tossed his eyes up to the tower for a mere second. He soon returned his gaze to the Altmer and in a moment's notice he sprinted forward and tackled Daelon to the ground. The two figures clashed upon the sands of Oblivion. The Commander's immense figure nearly crushed the Altmer as Broga shifted all his weight upon him, attempting to free his grasp on Umbra. Daelon groaned as he felt his body compressing under Broga's weight. He finally freed his hand and watched as the Dremora lifted the sword and held strongly to it.

"Go ahead," snarled Daelon as he pressed his face into the ground. "... Finish me here!"

Broga pushed himself off the ground while forcing Umbra into a sheath upon his belt. He tossed his eyes down to the Altmer and with a snarl the Dremora hissed, "... it's not you who I have dealings with, Asquerana. Feel honored that I am showing you sympathy. Cross my path again and you will not be as fortunate."

The Dremora hastily turned his back and rushed off to the left tower. His heart hardened as he walked off for he knew that it wouldn't be much longer until his hands were soiled once more with blood.

-+-

Upon one of the jagged cherry colored spikes did the maiden fall upon. Her arms were wrapped around the base as she heaved heavily sobs from her burdened chest. Her nails scrapped away from the thorn upon the bridge's side as she watched the magma with a faint grasp upon a dying hope. Xarovica wrapped his arms around her and quickly lifted her from the ground with a soft soothing voice, "... Elizabeth... he's gone. There's nothing you can do now. We need to get to the Sigil keep and close this gate before that machine breeches the portal and destroys Tamriel."

The Altmer held herself up as she looked down upon the Siege Crawler. Judging by its current position, they only had ten minutes or so. While wiping her eyes she turned to the Hero and called out in a faltering voice, "... sir k-knight..." The Hero lifted his eyes and looked over to the bridge to see Elizabeth. He frowned and remained silent. He didn't even know he had the courage to face her at the moment. Elizabeth swallowed the dryness in her mouth as she called out to him, "... accompany the Elder and I... to the Sigil keep. W...We will need your brawn."

"Yes, my lady," the Hero croaked as he stepped forward to leap from the machine and out upon the land of Oblivion. Suddenly, a figure caught his eye and he looked up to see creeping across the bridge was Broga with his sword drawn. The Hero's eyes widened and he called out, "Elizabeth! Behind you!"

The Altmer furrowed her brow as she spun around and all she saw was a purple gleam of an onyx blade fall down towards her side. She gasped and leapt back and saw Xarovica leap forward a purple swirl of magicka formed and elongated from his palm soon turning into a staff. Umbra dug deep within the wood of the staff; however, did not fully slice through. Broga grinned as he attempted to force the rapier to snap the staff in half. His crimson eyes were on fire as he looked upon the Elder-commander. "... you traitor," Broga scoffed with a sneer.

Xarovica narrowed his eyes for even within his own frail appearance he held much strength and energy. He held back the muscular Dremora while snarling back, "... I'm simply choosing the stronger side, Commander. I'm choosing the side which will _win_."

Elizabeth stepped back even further and with a useless disposition she inquired of the Elder, "... what shall I do, Xarovica?"

The Elder winced as he could feel the blade beginning to pierce even more of the staff. He glanced over his shoulder and snarled, "... you and the Champion shall dash to the Sigil Keep. Remove the Sigil stone from its pedestal and begin the last chapter of the journey to shut close the jaws of Oblivion evermore."

The Altmer narrowed her eyes and nodded obediently. She turned and began to jog away. Just as she thought of it she turned and called out to the Elder, "... thank you." With that, she returned to sprinting down the bridge. She looked upon the Siege Crawler and bellowed out, "Meet me at the tower doors, now! We don't have much time left!"

The Hero nodded and quickly ran down the spine of the machine. He forced all his energy into his boots as he bounded off one of the jagged legs and leapt towards the right bridge. He extended a hand and quickly seized one of the jagged thorns. He gasped and watched as he slid down slightly. His teeth gnashed and his brow furrowed over his woodland eyes as he pulled himself up and slung his leg onto the bridge. He crawled his way up and hurriedly sprinted to the meeting place.

Broga watched with narrowed eyes and a smirk pulling across his lips. He looked back upon his Elder and snarled, "How long can you hold me back, old man? Your fighting skills cannot even compare to those of mine."

"True," Xarovica hissed while arching an eyebrow as he questioned, "... but who ever said I was going to fight you? I am merely here to stall time for the maiden."

"She won't make it to the keep," Broga spat while forcing the sword even further into the baton. "I'll have her before she even makes it to the ramps."

Xarovica narrowed his eyes as he snarled, "... we'll see about that..."

Umbra broke through the staff and just as the wicked blade kissed the ancestor's skin, he turned to dark fumes and disappeared in the howling wind. Broga stumbled forward with a gasp as he became rather befuddled. However, Xarovica was a great sorcerer. His magic exceeded any being on either Oblivion's planes or Tamriel's. The Commander lifted his eyes and saw Elizabeth staring back at him. She had forced the inferior tower's door open with fear lingering in those pools of sapphire. Broga sheltered a smirk as he lifted himself and sheathed Umbra.

Elizabeth gnashed her teeth while sprinting into the tower and disappearing within its dark void. The Commander laughed and he became a dark blur as his body tore through the air and his feet pounded across the limestone bridge sending him even farther and faster forward. It wouldn't be long now until he caught up with the maiden and her knight. Not long at all.

-+-

A black spiraling smoke appeared before the pit of lava of which the great Crawler walked upon. Xarovica formed from this mist and his eyes had hardened to stone as he looked upon the machine. He lifted his hands and extended his jagged slender fingers outwards as a jade colored fog began to form before him. Sweat fell from his brow and he dug his feet into the ground as he tossed the spell at the machine. The advancing machine gave off a great metallic shriek as the Elder's grand telekinesis spell attempted to prevent it from escaping onto Tamriel. Its metal legs pushed through the lava; however, its jagged insect body did not move.

Xarovica gnashed his jagged teeth as he felt all the magicka drain from his core. He focused his mind upon the main parts of his body that gave off the magicka. He focused his concentration upon stabilizing those sections long enough that it would give the maiden and the Champion enough time to make it to the Sigil keep and stop this war before all hope for freedom and life was lost.

--_**TBC**_--

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_**READ AND REVIEW!**_ **_Also, just in case anyone cares-- I have a deviantArt site that has pictures of this fanfiction. I only have two I think, but I'll get more soon --The one I want to upload is a big spoiler for the next Fanfiction I'm going to do--. If you want to look at them just review to me that you want to look at them and I'll give you the URL address. Thank you all again. Much love. _**


	25. The Shattered Remains of War

**_Thank you all once again for the reviews, opinions, and critique. I'm glad that you enjoy reading this story and also submit to me any advice and ideas that you would like to see happen in later chapters and such. I do hope you enjoy! _**

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-+-

She stumbled clumsily down the ramps with a heart which was smoldering beneath her breasts. Sweat burdened her body causing the fabric of the tunic to become rather irritated to her porcelain skin. Her feet scarcely skimmed across the frozen limestone as she sprinted down the steeple's gigantic spiraling ramps. The dimness enveloped her and caused her mind to be blind to the objects around her. With one inaccurate bound she could plummet through the darkness of the tower and find herself pinned like a moth upon the jagged wicked crimson spikes of the body smasher. Her lips sealed as she dashed more rapidly. Her chest was burning and her legs were becoming anesthetized. How long could she carry on like this, she hadn't known.

Broga's black façade had blended flawlessly into the darkness that encumbered the tower. Even if he was truly following her he would only be a shadow in the rare amount of torchlight. The Altmer's breath was rushed as she inhaled profoundly then forced it out of her as if it were toxic. Her mouth hung agar as she rounded the final ramp. Her head pivoted as she looked behind her and only saw the shades of the tower. She swallowed a very sodden lump in her throat as she forced open the doors that led out upon the plane of Oblivion. As she cracked it open the light flooded into the tower causing the shadows to shriek in fear and retreat further away.

Elizabeth slipped out and allowed the arctic bustling airstreams to caress pass her brow. It made her freeze as it cooled the perspiration upon her body. The tunic pulled against her figure and her hair tossed wildly in the wind like silver fire. Her eyes widened and fell far beyond the path to see the Hero standing in front of the primary tower. His structure was heavy and he stood with the claymore clutched ever so tightly in his grasp. He tossed his eyes over and watched as she made her way to him. She just jogged over which allowed her body to lose the fatigue and regain some abandoned energy. The maiden lowered her eyebrows over her eyes as she inquired of the Hero, "How long will it take you to reach the Sigil keep?"

"If this is anything like Kvatch," the Hero deduced while pitching his dark eyes up the grand structure; a grimace upon his face. "... perhaps five or ten minutes."

"No, I need you to move even faster. Do not quarrel with any Daedra. Your only goal is to get to the keep and get that stone, do you understand?" Elizabeth told him while swiping the claymore from his hands. She turned and looked back the way she came. She feared Broga and hoped that she would not, yet again, succumb to his will.

"What about you?" inquired the Hero as he stepped forward and placed his firm gloved hand upon her tensed shoulder that was dampened with a mixture of sweat and forgotten tears. "I won't leave you here alone!"

Her head pivoted back to him as she was to reply. Her gaze had hardened and she did not burden herself with the grief of Xilivicus' death. There were more important things then that. Her head shook lightly as she told him, "I am not alone... Dibella and Mara are with me."

The Hero stared at her in stupefaction. Her faith, even through these difficult times, had not faltered. She was steadfast to her beliefs and this brought respect to the image of Elizabeth that danced within the Hero's mind. He lowered his gaze for a moment and a thought appeared in his buzzing head. His hand lifted and dug beneath his chest plate. He gripped his necklace and pulled it over his head. His coils lifted with the necklace as if not wanting to let it go. When they fell, they had recoiled and soon shaped back into their customary order. "Here," the Hero wheezed as he placed the necklace over the maiden's head; minding her long curved ears. The necklace gleamed in the luminosity of the magma soon emitting a golden aura. "I believe... _he_ wanted you to have this."

Elizabeth's eyes fell to the necklace and her heart swelled with excitement as she saw the beautiful blossom of Dibella and the magnificent golden rope of Mara. Her hand lifted and caressed past the solidified petals feeling a twinge of pain in her heart. Her smile was weak; however, it gave off much appreciation. Her hazy eyes lifted from the bullion adornment and turned back to the Hero, "... you haven't much time, knight... go." She nodded her head towards the door and insisted benevolently, "Go!"

The Hero nodded in comprehension soon rushing forward to the grand onyx archway that entered into the mouth of the heartless bastion. He involuntarily halted before the door knowing it would not be right for him to leave without saying a word of the wrong which he committed against her. He cocked his head and called out her name soon pulling her attention to him. He closed his eyes and croaked, "... I'm so sorry for causing you this pain."

Silence was her reply as she watched him with sympathetic eyes. Her heart was torn and beaten; however, it was not of her nature to hold vengeance in her soul, Bromus had taught her better then that. The Hero hoisted open the main doors and disappeared within the dark void that loomed in the mouth of the beast. Elizabeth wrapped her fingers even further around the claymore as she attempted to get a good grasp of the weapon. Her knuckles faded to white and she turned her back towards the gateway knowing that the only fighting she would do would be against her greatest fear.

-+-

With the remaining strand of strength within his body, Daelon lifted himself from the sand of Oblivion. His limbs ached with pain as the aftermath of his battling had finally caught up to his body. Even though he wished not to admit it, it had appeared that the Dremora was right. The only strength he had gotten was from that accursed sword, not from Clavicus Vile. Curses and vengeance coursed through his thick veins as he turned his eyes towards this hellish scene of Oblivion. The towers loomed within the heavens, piercing the sky and drawing thick droplets of crimson blood. Lightning became the heaven's lone weapon for it struck the steeples of the towers sending off sparks that surged down upon the land like rain. Daelon looked apprehensively upon the Siege Crawler. One mere glance from the beast sent a bloodcurdling frisson down his icy spine. The Crawler had not seemed to be progressing, though. It seemed as if it were purely trotting in place. The Altmer advanced to find this cause. His feet were light across the soil as he proceeded further into this plane of Oblivion.

His eyes beheld a Daedric man standing before the lake of magma. His hands lifted to the sky with magicka emitting from his palms and spiraling in the air like waltzing billows of smoke. They held back this monstrosity from inching across the serrated unsteady terrain and exiting out into Tamriel. Judging upon the area around the Dremora, he wouldn't be able to hold his stance much longer. A pair of long uneven trails had been placed before him. The introduction of the marks appeared as footprints upon the sand. It appeared that the might of the Siege Crawler had prevailed over Xarovica's attempt to bring it to a halt and it pushed the Elder back upon the ground. He sweated droplets of blood as he pushed all his energy and might into holding this apparatus back. His bones would not be able to support such great stress for any longer.

Daelon felt his vigor seep out of his opened pores and through the cracks of his shattered ebony armor as it had appeared clearly to him that there would be no hope now for his life and the life of Tamriel. His limbs became feeble and he allowed his tensed shoulders to fall in disappoint. The ache of his shoulders began to burden him as he shifted his eyes across the horizon hoping that someone might heed his rickety bleak voice, "... Someone... help us..."

-+-

Elizabeth tamed the beast hidden within her ribcage. She paced her breaths and focused her magicka on restoring her torn and battered muscles. Her grip; however, had still remained tight upon the hilt of the claymore. She had never held a claymore for her father only taught her to wield a dagger; nevertheless, she was sure that the basics for a claymore were that of the dagger as well. Her fingers straightened and then curled back around the hilt; loosening her muscles and strengthening her nimbleness.

_Something feels wrong_, Elizabeth told herself as she watched the tower door which she had come from moments before. _Broga hasn't emerged... he was right behind me—I'm certain. _Her nerves began to pull tight like the string of a bow. Each anticipating thought that had blossomed in her head pulled further back upon this string until it was beginning to unravel and finally snap. The maiden's eyes darted back and forth in front of her as she pondered the thought of the Dremora using any sort of magic. _Impossible... he can't possibly be skilled enough to—_her mind began to wonder and slowly she uncoiled a hand from the hilt of the Daedric claymore.

Her feet shuffled backwards upon the limestone step as she broadened her vision and looked in front of her instead of many feet away. With swiftness she lifted her hand and casted a detection spell. A purple haze appeared in her hand and slowly puffs of billows cascaded down upon her and slowly encased her. As it began to clear, a pinked churning smoke was before her. Her brow rose in dread and her heart fell in sorrow and slowly the purple haze turned to utter blackness. The immense figure of the Dremora formed over her and she quickly stepped back in fear of an attack.

A chuckle was sheltered in the Commander's deep throat as he leaned down and whispered lightly to her with pursed lips, "... your eyes are so _beautiful_, Elizabeth."

The Altmer scuffed her feet across the ground as she bounded away down upon the walkway. Emitting fumes from the fiery magma rolled over the maiden's feet as she neared the lake with a glare. Her grip tightened even more upon the claymore as she watched the Commander walk leisurely towards her. His hands were thrusted within his dark fabric pockets as he didn't even mind the enchanted rapier which was directed at him. His eyes were upon the ground and as he neared he looked up to the maiden with a broad grin, "... I see the Hero has entrusted you with my claymore."

"... Yours?" Elizabeth muttered while sidestepping away from Broga. Her eyes were glued upon the tranquil Dremora as she sauntered gently around him and at last faced her arched back to the substantial portico to the fortress.

Broga's face fell as he observed the wary Altmer. The blade still held high and waiting for its first taste of blood. The Dremora turned his head to a side as he questioned the girl in a rather oblivious tone of voice, "... hadn't he told you? On the other hand, neither would I. I mean," a laugh came through his jagged clenched jaw as he continued, "arranging to be the executioner of Xilivicus, the man you love, my... I don't believe I would ever confess that to you! I guess, your Champion thought the same... _thing_." Broga's voice grew pitiless with every word that fell from his parted lips. His eyes iced over with exasperation as he could see that Elizabeth was indeed confused of what he said. A smirk came to his lips as he endeavored to make it comprehensible, "... I had met with your Champion outside of this realm. I hadn't sought him for a quarrel, mind you. I confronted him about the rival we both shared..."

"... Xilivicus," finished the maiden with gnashed teeth.

"Naturally," Broga chuckled while stepping forward with his hands still restfully placed within his pockets. His smile faded and a scowl soon became his mask. "That is when I presented him with that claymore." The Dremora eyed the jagged designs of the blade with pride secluded in his heart. "Do you remember that letter that I had you write, my dear? I feared that he would not fight Xilivicus unless he had a good motive. Such is the way with every pretentious witless conqueror these days."

"So you gave him the note," Elizabeth had began to piece together all the current events with elder ones. Together they formed the faultless enigma and all the uncertainties that had blossomed in her mind now fell into the dark void of truth. "... and you put him upon the edge causing him to murder Xilivicus. Was it also you who turned him against me? Was it you who kept him from me in Anvil?!"

"The past is something I wish not to dwell upon," Broga explained with a desolate tone of voice as he hurriedly removed his hands from his pockets. His right hand gripped the smooth hilt of Umbra and he tore it from its sheath. The blade basked in the violet gleam as the Commander allowed the tip to fall by his side and wave back and forth like a pendulum of a grandfather clock, "I do not wish to fight you, Elizabeth. Stand aside and allow me to enter the tower and bring this catastrophe to an end."

The maiden's body shifted backwards ever further as she stood as the guardian of the gateway. Her sword pulsing with magicka as her eyes fastened upon the Commander with such hatred that it made the Dremora's skin crawl. Her jaws clenched together so tightly that she feared her teeth would surely shatter. A few spiraling strands of silver hair fell before her diamond shaped eyes as she spat through her teeth, "To proceed any further you must go through _me_!"

Broga's face hardened with annoyance as he began to walk forward. His muscles tightened as he contracted them all and then released them permitting his frustration to secrete from his pores. His voice was rushed as he informed her, "I haven't time for this meaningless quarrel, Elizabeth."

"Then make time," she retorted; immovable.

As the Dremora observed this maiden even more he could surely see family traits appear behind the porcelain mask that she wore. He saw the strength of her family. He saw the honor that had encased her at birth and grew within her each day of her life, transforming her into a miraculous and powerful woman. From their first encounter to their last, Elizabeth had grown so much in strength, spirit, and even wisdom. The Commander blamed Oblivion for that. Broga's ears perked in revelation as he felt much reverence for this Altmer. His soul had been taken so long ago and replaced with an empty spirit of programmed allegiance for if it were not for this he might have placed his blade down and spared her life.

However, that was not the man he was. His legs spread as he formed his stance and prepared himself for an attack. He lifted Umbra and gripped it securely with eyes fixed firmly upon Elizabeth. His parched lips parted as he informed Elizabeth with a ruthless voice, "... you know that I shan't express leniency, correct?"

"I knew you wouldn't," she retorted kindly, feeling her muscles begin to tense and a bottomless apprehension cause her stomach to churn and her entrails to snare into a bind.

With a sudden burst of energy, Broga leapt forward and Umbra became a blur as it was slung through the air in a merciless brutal fashion. Elizabeth wasn't given much time to counterattack; nevertheless, she was prepared to hinder the assault. The claymore was lifted and positioned in the air to oppose any of his attacks. Shards of the rapiers broke off of the original blades soon twirling into the air and becoming lost in the bustling wind. Their stances were precise in every moment for they both had been trained accordingly in swordsmanship. The Altmer grunted as a blow from Umbra had sent her falling upon the frozen granite of the pathway, her claymore somersaulting across the limestone and landing idly a few feet away with a metallic chime echoing out in the immediate area.

As her rear came in contact, immediately she felt a bruise beginning to flourish. Her eyes were clenched shut. In a moment she ripped them open and tossed her gaze up to see Broga heaving his blade downwards to strike her upon the crown of her head and finish the fight. Her heart thrusted adrenaline and fear throughout her body causing her to roll forward; in evasion. She was quick to react once she was out of the way from the fatal strikes of Umbra. Her muscles contracted as she placed one booted foot upon the ground like an anchor as she spun her other contracted leg soon tripping the Dremora. She could feel her bones nearly shatter when she had struck him. She gasped and jerked away as he came toppling down soon loosing grip on his own blade. Elizabeth hurriedly twisted upon her stomach as she made an attempt to press on towards her claymore.

Just as she was to lift off from the ground, Broga had pounced and wrapped his arms around her upper body. Their figures toppled back to the ground and the Commander held her even tighter soon forcing himself upon his back. His arms became two onyx boa constrictors for his biceps bulged and began to compact the Altmer against his own torso. Elizabeth's face twisted in dismay as she could feel the bones in her back begin to crack. Her mouth fell ajar in anguish as the Dremora pulled her even tighter to him. Breathing became a burden and the maiden's sight began to turn into a haze for everything altered to smog in her mind. Broga's broadening eerie grin twitched as he arched his thick durable backside and began to strain the maiden's body causing more air to discharge from her dwindling desperate lungs. With a final attempt to live, Elizabeth took her long piercing nails and dug them into Broga's hips. Her nails pierced his skin and began to slash away at his flesh in desperation.

The Commander attempted to ignore the fleeting twinge in his sides; however, the maiden began to grip at his torn skin and pull it apart as if she were tearing pedals from the blossom of a flower. The Dremora's skin began to peel away from the muscles causing a bloodcurdling rip to beckon to the senior officer. Broga's serrated teeth gnashed together as he groaned in excruciating pain soon releasing the maiden. Elizabeth gasped for oxygen soon rolling out of the Dremora's loosened grasp. Her hand reached up and pressed upon her heaving chest as she coughed like mad for a few seconds. Her vision restored to normal and her main ambition now was to rearm herself with rather Broga's blade or even her own. Her fragile body lifted itself back up upon rickety legs. Elizabeth attempted to balance herself; yet, it was of no use. For her near death experience had drained most of the vigor and nimbleness from her. Her body was a faltering structure and within her mind she was certain that she could not endure a fight with this Dremora any longer. Sweat glistened on her face as she stumbled forward to get her blade.

Broga's hands lowered to his sides as he saw blood gush onto his thick onyx flesh. His eyes grew to be overflowing with a distinct abhorrence and annoyance as they were tossed upon the maiden who had just freed herself from an embrace that nearly purloined her life. Upon seeing so much of his own blood gushing from the hashes in his sides, Broga turned to another side of his instincts to take care of the maiden. The instincts of an animal. The instincts of a Daedra. With detestation fueling his heart he placed his firm hands upon the granite walkway and quickly forced himself to stand. The overpowering vertigo that encircled the Dremora did not hinder him from pursuing the maiden. His feet shuffled faster across the ground as he moved into a sprint. In next to no time, he seized her by the shoulder and jerked her around. His jagged nails appeared as onyx knives that dug deep into her skin drawing mere droplets of blood. Elizabeth gasped in alarm and her face once again twisted in apprehension. Her brow began to tremor as the Dremora enforced his willpower and strength upon her causing her to fully face him.

With a sadistic shove, Broga pushed her back upon a substantial wedge of limestone. The blow had forced most of the breath from her lungs. Elizabeth could virtually see the air hurdle from her lips and vanish in the magma's wafting puffs of smoke. Her chest heaved for fresh air yet it was not exalted with it. Her pouted cherry lips were parted and her eyes were clenched shut as she felt a twinge of pain flood to the back of her skull. The vigorous Commander towered over the maiden with abomination pulsing from his pores. His trembling right hand pressed through the thick atmosphere and gripped the round pale jaw of the maiden. His fingertips dug into her supple skin as he pushed her head up, forcing her to face him. Her eyelids finally lifted and exposed two diamond shaped eyes. Broga mercilessly lifted her into the air, pulling her head closer to his. She gasped in pain as she could feel her neck muscles begin to pull and throb in agony. Her pupils disappeared in the sea of sapphires as fear overwhelmed her heart. Her combatant prevailed. It was rubbish to push on any further for Broga was so much more physically dominant and skilled than she.

This had become ever so clear to her now that the Commander had her pinned against a slab of stonework. He held her firmly to the slab knowing that if she did any harm to him now he could merely toss her into the embrace of the magma to rest alongside her dearly beloved, Xilivicus. A glitter of gold caught Broga's wandering eye and he glanced down to the maiden's hoisting chest. Mounted just above her breasts was the beautiful golden pendant of Dibella. The Dremora grinned and moved his unoccupied hand to the necklace. He entwined his fingers and the golden rope soon jerking it and breaking it into halves. The second half slithered across the maiden's neck soon falling off into the Commander's wide grasp. He lifted the necklace and chuckled, "Xilivicus' birthright... As long as you brandish this, my dear, so will you brandish the burden of his memory. Let me relieve your aching soul for this moment!" His voice cackled.

He gripped the necklace tightly and soon turned towards the lake of magma. With one great toss, the necklace spiraled through the air and soon fell upon the first layer of the magma. A petite fire rose around the golden necklace and the lava opened its hellish mouth soon swallowing the only memory that Elizabeth had left of Xilivicus. The maiden watched with mournful eyes as she could see another part of herself begin to die as the necklace vanished from her view. Her power left her just as everything and everyone else has. Her heart throbbed with ache as she could only watch everything she loved begin to turn to ash and vanish in the bustling wind. Broga turned his gaze back to the Altmer as he snarled to her, "Allow that necklace to wither into the dark void of bereavement and remind the Churl of who shall soon join him in death."

As the inevitable began to show upon Elizabeth's horizon, a tremor ran through the sands of Oblivion soon sending a rolling chill down the spine of the maiden and the Commander. Confusion ran across their faces as they began to hear the crackling and demolishing of stone. Broga's stomach began to churn as he lifted his eyes and looked up to the tower. Parts of the establishment began to crumble and cascade through the air like ash. The Dremora lowered the maiden and soon stepped away; watching in disbelief. The secondary towers began to crumble and as they died they turned to pieces and plummeted into the pit of lava. The entire parcel of land began to tremor and wither away like a wilting rose. The Siege Machine discontinued its moving soon sinking deep beneath the magma's surface. The Sigil Keep burst into pieces and plummeted down upon the immediate area. As it came in contact with the ground, the fortification's remains detonated and turned to dark piles of smoldering rubble.

Elizabeth shuffled sideways in fear for if any part of that tower fell upon her it would surely be the end of her. Perspiration cascaded down her porcelain façade as she dodged tumbling remains with simple bounds either left or right. Broga's eyes lifted to Umbra and he knew that he could not allow it to be buried within the remains of this plane of Oblivion. He sprinted across the limestone with great swiftness and also great absurdity. The Altmer watched as an immense chunk of the tower's ribcage fell upon a direct path for the Black Dremora. Even though her hatred for this man ran through deep rivers, she would never allow herself to sink to his level; a _murderer's_ level. Darting through cascading remains and billowing puffs of sand, the maiden made her way to the Commander. Her sight became blurred by the smoke looming around them; however, she pushed on. Just as Broga had kneeled to pick up the sword, Elizabeth had grasped his firm broad shoulders and jerked him backwards as she screamed over the shrieks of crumbling vestiges, "LOOK OUT!"

The plummeting remnants buried Umbra in an unfathomable tomb of rubble. One of the jagged pieces of rubble twirled forward and sliced Broga across the chest. The cut was deep and blood hurriedly gushed from his skin as if it were attempting to escape his vile body. The Commander grunted in grief as he fell back upon the ground with Elizabeth. His eyes ripped open and he looked upon the catacomb of Umbra, "NO!" He bellowed as he attempted to move forward; however, more rubble fell around them hindering his next course of action. "Do you know what you just did?!" He boomed to the maiden over the thundering noises around them.

"I saved your life!" She screamed back over the screaming explosions while giving him a spiteful glare.

A blinding white light exploded from where the Sigil keep was and Elizabeth hurriedly lifted her eyes to the firmament. Her eyes glistened an arctic crystal blue as the light reflected off her eyes. Her body was petrified and she became a pure statuette. The angered Dremora nearby clashed his teeth together as he knew within his heart that he only had a few seconds to extract his revenge before the maiden was whisked away by the wave of the prevailing ashen light. Upon the vibrating and shifting ground he attempted to lunge his body at the maiden imagining that if he held onto her tight enough that the illumination would relinquish her to him. Elizabeth's eyes fell back down to the Dremora just as he reached his hands forward to seize her. The Altmer gasped and jerked her arms up as a shield from his assault. Just as his fingertips touched her skin, his onyx hand turned to smoke and faded away around the maiden.

A rushing sensation overcame the girl as if she were tossed about within the vigorous yet gentle hand of the ocean. Her body slipped away within the river of white and her eyes turned upwards as she lay upon her back. Her arms were outspread as she welcomed the radiance. The brightness began to scorch her eyes forcing her to clench them shut; her face twisting in ache for a mere moment. The once snowy light dimmed to a dark river of blood. The river ran dry and turned to stone and reddened grass. The light formed into the bloodied and vacant battlefield of Bruma. Darkness rose from the earth and quickly formed the figures of the remaining guards who fought against the Daedra. Their brows were drenched with sweat and white vapors came from their nostrils and mouths as they heaved breaths out into the frozen air of the mountains.

Elizabeth tossed her gaze around curiously and suddenly a strident reverberating sound encased her as the Great Gate had been shut by the hands of the Champion of Cyrodiil. As the hellfire turned into a cyclone and disappeared into the darkened sky, the great skeleton of the Siege Crawler toppled forward and towered over the maiden. The Altmer gasped and instinctively she leapt to her feet and ran as the Siege Crawler plummeted to the ground sending freshly fallen snow and darkened chunks of soil to dance through the air and cascade back down like rain. Elizabeth pivoted her head and looked at the Crawler in disbelief.

They had won.

Tamriel had _won_.

The guards threw their arms in the air and hollered triumphantly with much pride in their hearts. Their echoing cries carried through the air and alerted Bruma of their explicit conquer and other parts of Cyrodiil. Elizabeth lifted her trembling fingertips, pushing back a few thick strands of her snow-white hair. Her widened diamond eyes surveyed the shattered charred spines of the Oblivions gates that had been defeated. Dizziness overwhelmed her as still she could not belief what she saw. From behind her, two arms appeared. They enveloped her and lifted her into the air as a laughing and rather joyous tone of voice came from her elder brother's lips, "Elizabeth! You're safe! God's Blood, you're safe!"

At first, the maiden had nearly leapt from her skin for the encounter had rather startled her. After she had recognized who it was, a grin pulled across her lips. When she was put upon the ground she spun around and leapt into her brother's arms yet again. Daelon laughed heartily as he clutched onto her back and buried his head into the scoop of her neck. His heavy warm breath rushed over her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes softly as she leaned her head gently upon her brother's flushed cheek. Her fingertips caressed over his ebony shoulder plates as she was rather joyous that her brother had made it through the war. Her head lifted and as she grasped his ebony armor she pushed him away a little and glanced up into his eyes. Her grin broadened as she asked him hurriedly, "Where are the twins? Are they at Cloud Ruler Temple? I can't wait to tell them the news—they... they'll be so happy to..." her voice faded into the wind as she looked upon her brother's façade. "... Daelon... what... what happened to the twins?"

Daelon's brow creased as he tossed his eyes away near the second gate. The gentle wind blew across his face causing a few of his dark strands to lift and point to the answer. Elizabeth pivoted her head around with an anxious feeling churning in her gut. Upon the crimson snow she saw Orrick kneeling besides a lifeless corpse of Caldwyn. Elizabeth felt the world fall away from her as she could only focus upon her brother's skin which was paler than the snow and harder then ice. Caldwyn's spirit vanished within the arctic breeze just like so many other spirits had on this ominous day. Daelon's eyes shifted to another part of the battlefield for a mere second and just as he was to turn away he felt his gut tighten. His head whipped back around as he gasped, "Elizabeth...!"

The maiden turned her head and felt the same sensation that Daelon felt sweep over her fragile body. Upon the snow banks lied the lifeless form of the Hero. Surrounding his carcass was a sheet of blood. The anticipated question that burdened both of the Altmers minds when looking upon this sight was: Does the blood belong to him or another fallen patron? From their side, Martin Septim appeared with excitement swelling in his eyes and faith in his heart. Just as he opened his mouth to congratulate Daelon and welcome back Elizabeth, the maiden sprinted forward towards the fallen Hero.

Martin allowed his gaze to follow the girl and soon he had saw precisely what it was that bothered her. His face creased in sadness as he wished for it not to be true. His heavy armored boots trudged through the snow banks as he made his way over. Elizabeth fell upon her knees beside the Imperial man. Her hands were gentle as they slithered under his thick golden tresses soon lifting his head up far enough to look upon him. His eyes fluttered open and shut as if his mind was wrestling with the thought of sleep. Through the haziness he saw Elizabeth's face. His eyes were held open only to an extent as he sputtered through pouted cherry lips, "... E...Elizabeth..."

She hushed him and with nimble fingertips she pushed hair from his face and leaned closer. Her eyes were wide with fright as she demanded of him, "I need you to stay awake, do you understand?"

"...so cold," he stammered incoherently through loose jaws as his eyes flickered shut.

"Stay awake! You must stay awake!" She spat while lowering her gaze to his armor. A tremor ran through her hands as she forced off his hefty cuirass. The steel felt like ice to her fingertips as she tried her hardest to loosen it and pull it from him. With each attempt to maneuver it, the Hero groaned in pain. At last, after much effort, the cuirass had burdened his weakened torso no longer. Elizabeth tossed it thoughtlessly out-of-the-way as her focus was now upon his dark navy blue tunic. The fabric had been slashed near his chest and the once cobalt fabric turned to a dark violet. "... There's not much time left," she whispered through the wind.

Martin arrived quickly and looked down upon the man who faded in and out of consciousness and life itself. The heir's eyes were skeptic; however, he knew he must have faith. "What do you need?" questioned he.

Elizabeth kept her eyes upon her knight as she seized the top of the tunic and quickly shredded it into halves in hopes to fashion a thick bandage out of the material. The fabric pulled away from the man's body soon exposing his strapping sun kissed torso. Across his chest was a deep crescent slash which spat blood with every breath that the Hero took. His chest heaved up and down rather lethargically alerting the Altmer of how much time was truly left. Her brow furrowed and her voice became rather thunderous as she attempted to carry her weakened voice over the bustling wind to Martin, "We need to get him back to Cloud Ruler Temple! Find me the fastest horse you can find in the Bruma stable! We haven't much time!"

The heir nodded in acknowledgement. His body pulsed with fresh adrenaline as he knew that the fate of this man would now loll upon his previously hampered shoulders. Martin pivoted around and speedily raced off through the battlefield, pushing past a few dawdling guardsman and members of the Blade. A few guards from the different provinces of Cyrodiil drew closer to the Hero as they had heard Elizabeth's voice carry over the howling wind. They became rather anxious for their savior as they saw his frail body lying helplessly upon the sheets of snow.

His dark woodland eyes opened to a darkening scene as he began to fade from consciousness. Feeling began to vanish from him and he became a man locked within the confinements of his own mind. His desperate cries for help were not heard by those surrounding him. He drowned within the darkness and the only thing he could see were those two sympathetic eyes that belonged to the lover of the man he had executed in cold blood. Those sapphire eyes turned to lingering puffs of smoke as he at last faded into a black stupor.

His ears rung with the melodic voice of the Altmer which called out to him as he laid to rest in the darkness of his mind, "... Hold on... please... _hold on_."

--_**TBC**_--

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**_I do hope you Review... this is one of the last chapters and I know you want to tell me what you think -_unless you just wish to Flame it... then keep the hatred to yourself_- Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed._**


	26. The Awakening of Unwanted Memories

**_New Chapter and please... write and review D: When I don't get reviews I think people don't like the chapter. I wanna know what you think regardless of what it is. _**

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_... Please... hold on._

Those were the last words that the Hero heard as he slipped into a state of unconsciousness. As he fell deeper into this dark void he saw his own memories cascade as well with him in this dark sea of emptiness. Each memory was presented to him and he had the chance to rather hold onto it or let it fall away faster from him and disappear for what seemed like eternity. He heard the agonizing shrieks of the battlefield as he looked upon a moving photograph of his reminiscence. The portrait vanished and behind him he heard a crackling voice beckon out to him. The tone echoed out around him and silently a memory had resurfaced from a chest that he confined it to in his mind. "Oh, look, an Imperial in the Imperial Prison. I guess they don't play favorites, huh?"

The Hero turned his head as he looked at the memory. He saw a shadowy elder Dunmer standing behind a sturdy cage door. His hands wrapped around the smooth metal as he stuck his head closer to the light to see the Hero who remained shrouded in the shadows of his own cell. His faded crimson eyes shifted back and forth as the once Imperial prisoner had walked closer to examine the Dunmer who spoke to him. Dreth's lips coiled in a smirk sending a few dark ripples over his discolored façade. "...Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash. How sad. I bet the guards give you "special" treatment before the end. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here, Imperial! You're going to _die_! Imperial criminal scum like you give the Empire a bad name, you see. You're an embarrassment. Best if you just... disappeared."

As the Hero cascaded into the darkness of his mind he reached forward and attempted to swipe the remembrance away. The ethereal figure of Valen Dreth slowly but surely altered to a billowing hunched haze of shades as the Hero wished not to remember that day at all. Conversely, another memory resurfaced that he wished to shroud former in the depths of his mind. He heard the bubbling of fresh magma that churned in the fiery lake. He heard the jerky metallic noise of the Crawler rolling the joints of its body as it inched gradually across that lake. He smelt the brimstone and decayed human flesh that was thick in the air. His stomach churned as he attempted to force it from him; however, it seemed nearly impossible. The mere thought of that realm made him uncomfortable. He pivoted his head away with desire to avoid this memory.

The memory grew around him and soon its hellish jaws swung ajar and devoured him. He became shrouded in the darkness of his mind and as he looked onward he could see he was standing before the vast lake of fire. The heat of the magma emitted from the lake as if it were the pulse- the essence- of the lava. His skin cried for he was far too close to the edge of the lake. Perspiration dampened his darkened brow as he gawked upon the immense atrocity that was the Siege Crawler. Upon every fifth pulse of his heart it inched nearer to the gate of which he was faced away from. Upon the bronze back of this monster he saw two entwining figures. His eyes lifted and he could see Xilivicus and himself clashing together. Their blades swung together in harmony but the Champion's hearts were shattered and upon two different levels. As the man looked up into the sky to see himself he felt such grief rise in his heart. It hadn't really ever left him. It was merely just a voice in his head he quieted unless he lost grip of his self the voice would raise. With a heaved groan that rose and vanished before him, the Hero looked into his own crazed eyes. In those moments, he had been taken over by another entity. One which he never wished to become.

High above the steeples of the towers, thunder shattered the heavens causing crimson pieces of the clouds to cascade into the lakes of fire. Not long after, a scream came from the bridge of the towers. It was _her_ voice. The man lifted his eyes leisurely as he could only watch this performance. No longer was he a part of it. _Is this my reprieve from damnation? To spend forever watching that which condemned me? The dark void of Sithis would be far more pleasant than watching this play out for eternity. _The Hero stomached the play as if it were rotted meat dampened with cave water. He saw Elizabeth's weakened body hunch over the bridge as she reached her hand out in hopes to grasp Xilivicus and save him from the fate that the knight delivered to him. Could she have known? Could she have known what would befall of his feeble human body?

This was the moment. This was it.

His shoulder dug deep into his skin and the Churl plunged over the side of the Siege Crawler. The Hero watched as he could see the terror and almost... acceptance that had smeared across the Churl's face. The terror gathered together and fled from his face in the billowing winds. His eyelids drooped and as he closed his eyes he fully accepted his fate. The knight's stomach lurched as he saw his rival's flesh disappear and at last the magma devoured his body and soul. The shrill shriek of Elizabeth echoed to his side and he felt chills run through his arm and down his side. Her voice acted like poison in his veins. With such remorse, the Hero closed his own eyes and bowed his head. _I don't want to watch any more. Take me away from here. _

He demanded this of his mind; however, he was merely a servant to the his mental psyche. His voice was ineffective against the strident influence of his mind. The waves of heat still overflowed him as he stood beside the lake of magma allowing the shadow of himself to leap from the Siege Crawler and sprint towards the main gate were he would rendezvous with the High Elf. As he stood there inert as the steeples of the towers, he no longer viewed himself as a man or even an Imperial. He seemed to be only a silhouette of doubts and hatred that masked itself with the hero's façade. A likely act put out to get the attention and respect that he always thirsted for. As he was to turn his back to the lake of magma he saw an enormous air pocket blossom on the surface of the lava. His eyes were drawn to the flamboyant boil for he hadn't remembering seeing that when he departed through the tower's doors. The effervesce formed and slithered across the magma until it reached the crimson shore. With uncertainty the knight treaded quickly over. He rounded the faded base of the tower and skipped between a few jagged rocks as he watched; mesmerized.

From the blanket of magma, a skeletal hand reached out and feebly grasped at the molten rock that had solidified against the shore of the lake. As the hand reached further from the magma, veins encircled the bone and muscles began to form with no true origin. Skin slithered over the muscle like a plague falling over a city. The skin began a fiery color like that of the lava then quickly faded once it had surfaced into the air.

It turned to a dark violet.

The Hero's eyes grew wider as he wished to draw closer; however, he was uncertain that the newly restored hand wouldn't reach out and grab him in hopes to drag him to the bottom of the lake of fire. A sickness flooded the knight's body as once again he was only a spectator to the events. Voices echoed in his head like a courtroom as they all attempted to rationalize the situation.

_It's your personal condemnation creating this photograph! You're writhing in your own lunacy! _One voice bellowed out to him above the others.

_You're dreaming, kid; you are beginning to mix together the fabrics of reality and_ _the_ _powers of invention! _Each voice seemed truer than the last.

_It's another view of the incident, kid! Stop attempting to shroud the truth under a veil! _This hadn't appeared as his voice. It seemed far more diverse; nonetheless, he listened to it. He became the judge at this trial of insanity.

Another skeletal hand jerked from the embrace of the magma and as it slammed down upon the molten rock, a glass shattering noise echoed out to the spectator. The Hero was snapped from his schizophrenic quarrel and his focused was back upon the magma. Underneath the thick skeletal hand were the shards of a black broken vial which seemed rather dry of any fluids. Long jagged nails grew like thorns from the fingertips of the hands. The nails dug into the earth and with an unexpected force, the arms heaved a skeletal body from the magma. The lava rolled down the ashen bones like thick blazing oil. The fiery magma appeared as skin that melted away from the bones leaving them bare.

The skull fell lifeless to the shore of the lake as the skeleton appeared to rest. Upon the temples of the skull there were two jagged bones. The Hero identified them rather swiftly as the horns of the man. Muscles stretched from all parts of the body and skin crawled tightly over them like a blanket of violet. As the skin had rounded the face and follicles of hair begin to sprout, the chest heaved immense and breath was breathed into the Dremora. He vomited chunks of magma which turned his mouth into a fiery pit. With newfound strength he placed his hands upon the molten rock and lifted himself. He was rather clumsy at first; however, that was expected.

As he lifted his head, his thick ginger hair fell before his closed eyes. His breaths heaved for a few moments like they would if he had been running for a while. His brawny torso was rather bare besides the remnants of his Daedric greaves that hung loosely to the pronounced hipbones scarcely below his waist. His body gleamed with newborn sweat which pronounced most of his well toned muscles. His angelic face lifted to the sky as he observed his surroundings. He pivoted and looked upon the Siege Crawler which soon informed him of his location. His face stiffened with a mixture of grief and disappointment as personal images and words flooded his mind.

"... Xilivicus," the Hero wheezed in disbelief as if he had plunged into the depths of the lava and resurfaced with the Churl as well. He spoke softly hoping that the Dremora could validate this ever so true proclamation, "... I... I killed you."

Silence was his answer. The knight was just a ghost in this realm, he realized. His voice was just a puff of wind against the ears of those he spoke to. The man stumbled away from the shore as he ascended the pitiable incline that lifted him onto a higher level of Oblivion. The Hero was fast to follow as he couldn't allow such wonderment slip from his grasp. He held upon this meager amount of hope rather tightly. Almost obsessively. If there was a way to acquire Elizabeth's exoneration it would be returning to her that which she lost. In a futile attempt to acquire the Dremora's perception, the Hero called out to him in his rich Colovian voice which was shaken in bewilderment, "... Xilivicus!"

Just as expected, the Dremora continued to walk down the paths of Oblivion; ignorant of the apparition that tried so frantically to contact him. His structure was hardened as he seemed determined upon something. Could it possibly be that he still burdened the love for Elizabeth in his rotting black heart? With Xilivicus' newly acquired life, he gained another entity to him; one that was sensed within a glance. He looked stronger and more willed then he had before. There was also a distinct malicious vibe that he discharged from those piercing tangerine eyes that could light a man's soul on fire or cause one to succumb to his will and become as submissive as a canine.

"Please," begged the Hero in a distressed voice that clenched upon a twinge of fear. "Please... God's blood... p-please... tell me that I am not dreaming! Tell me that you _are_ Xilivicus and that you _are_ alive!"

The Dremora stopped.

The Hero's eyes grew wider as for a moment he truly thought he had caught the attention of the Churl. The ideas and worries that were cradled in his mind were thrown out like unwanted vagabonds. His mind- his attention- everything that could possibly heed any word or imagery from the Dremora was focused upon Xilivicus. He awaited the answer of truth.

"... You are dreaming," Xilivicus' ruthless voice broke out into the eerie silence that had encased him and held him hostage. "I am nothing more then a figment of your imagination."

The legitimacy struck the Hero cruelly in the face. He nearly stumbled back from the blow. His heart raced beneath his chest as he looked upon his rival with such misery- such pity and forlorn. His cracking lips opened in hopes to persuade the man. Persuade him into telling him a lie that might suffice his breaking heart. Before the Hero could even mutter a sound, Xilivicus turned and focused his eyes upon him. His eyes burned so brilliantly. They blazed like prairie fire; able to fascinate and destroy all in the same time. The Churl's dark pouted lips came ajar as he spoke, "... Even in your dreams, Great Champion, may I give you information that not even your mind could fabricate. For a part of me lives on outside the walls of Oblivion."

"Yes," the Hero agreed with a frantic head nod. He proceeded while clasping his hands together and continuing with a grief-stricken voice, "Elizabeth lives on. I am only too grateful that someone has survived from the war."

Xilivicus turned his eyes to the sky; the sky which bled more with each passing second. For even when Tamriel and Oblivion were at war it had appeared that the heavens had intervened and took a fatal blow. Thunder rolled across the crimson clouds and echoed over the realm. As the Churl returned his eyes to the Hero he could not immediately find the precise words that he wished to tell him. "... No..." he began, "... another part of me lives."

"Another?" the Hero questioned with befuddlement. His brow creased over his magnificent chocolate eyes as he inquired urgently, "What other part? Please, my friend, I must know... it may be the only way I can regain Elizabeth's trust."

With a saddened sigh heaved from his strapping chest, Xilivicus felt all too sorrowful at the moment to answer the knight's anticipated question. Even if he were merely an illusion that only lived in the bothersome mind of Cyrodiil's Champion, he still could feel the qualms and grief that burdened him in the days before death. "Elizabeth..." the Churl had whispered out to himself in an endeavor to kindle his imaginary heart. "...she appears only as a dream to me now. A dream which consumes me even as we speak... I miss her so much."

The Hero held a grimace upon his face as he observed the sadness displayed by this poor creature. With his hands he had stripped the Dremora of any chance he had at having true love. Within his own hands he destroyed and now with the same hands he would amend this broken bond. "... Xilivicus... _please_..."

The Churl was pulled from the memories that tossed like tides in his hollow body. His weary eyelids drooped over his narrow eyes as he knew that the Hero hadn't much time to roam this sinister castle in the sky. He avoided the answer that the Hero wanted by another, "... Lord Dagon shall strike again upon Tamriel. It is very clear that this time... he will shut the jaws of Oblivion and open the gateway to his new sovereignty upon Tamriel. You mustn't let him succeed." A rolling chill ascended Xilivicus' spine as he knew that the time had run out. "... You must know that I forgive you for what happened upon that day. If it is any constellation, it is what I insisted to happen. Please, dear friend... take care of them."

The Hero's expression grew even more perplexed as he questioned rapidly, "Them? What do you mean them? Xilivicus, I don't-"

Xilivicus feet turned to billows of violet smoke as he began to fade from the dream. The Churl bowed his head as he had no time to respond to the man's infinite questions. With the last words he retained he uttered, "... _tell them I'm sorry_..."

Just as he spoke the last word, he vanished from the reverie and reality itself like a candle snuffed out in the dead of winter. The colors of Oblivion began to run together as if the scenery was merely a canvas of wet paint and water had dripped upon it. Everything faded into blackness around the Hero for he could not even move his legs. He was immobilized by force and by his own fear. Darkness surrounded him once again as he fell out of the abyss of his mind and began to fall into consciousness.

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The brilliant fireplace roared comfortably allowing some of its heat to fall upon the hearth and rest there for a while. Even though the room was fueled with such efficient warmth that was graciously dispensed from the flames, it had seemed that this would not entirely thaw the tattered and torn carcass of the Hero. The blackness perched upon his eyelids scattered and drifted far away from him. The shadows of the flames flickered over his glistening tanned face as he first began to stir. The throbbing pain that had taken refuge in his chest now seemed to bother his entire body. His muscles awoke with him as he pushed himself up to glance around.

_Xilivicus, I don't... no... no- you were not real, were you? It truly _was_ only a dream... how foolish I was to believe that. _He told himself as he blinked away the weariness that hung from the lashes of his eyelids. Everything sharpened as he could finally see where he was. Yes, he knew this place. He had visited it often. The main temple of the Blades' fortress looked just the same as it had when he had left it to fight for Tamriel. He tossed his eyes down upon his immediate surroundings to see a mixture of empty and filled glistening bottles next to the bedroll that had been positioned next to the roaring fire. As he hunched forward even further to look around, he cringed in pain as he felt his tattered skin brush against the material of his bondages

What had happened upon the battlefield? All that he remembered was sprinting up the coiled snake-like ramps that led to the Sigillum Sanguis. Those images had been smeared into darkness as that is when he had drifted into that unbearable trance. The man crutched all his weight upon his right side as he lifted a hand to press the drenched coils of gold away from his heated face. The fire had proven effective for his cheeks were the color of rose petals. The deep rich wooden door behind him had cracked ajar causing the Hero's ears to perk. His body cringed for a second as he pivoted his head to look at his visitor.

The slender porcelain figure of Elizabeth glided into the room with ignorance of the man's recovery. Just as her eyes fell upon him her lips coiled into a grin and she hurried rushed over to him. Her petite hand fell to her abdomen as he gripped the edges of her housecoat soon pulling it tighter around her figure in hope to keep it from falling open and exposing her velvet nightgown. As she came to his side she had kneeled down and with hands folded in her lap she sat and admired the bondage that she had wrapped across his chest. "... I'm so glad you're awake," her hushed soothing voice told him, "we all feared the worst."

The Hero lowered his gaze in shame for even now he couldn't bare the presence of the maiden. It had smoldered his skin which was covered in the follies of his actions. His lips became sealed as he wished that- like his memories- he could wish her away and she would vanish for the moment. The Altmer's ashen brow creased as she had hoped for some response from the Champion. Her head had cocked hardly to a side as she overlooked him. She saw the hindrance of grief that he sheltered willingly in his body. Her shimmering sapphire eyes shifted across his face as she waited for a moment longer. When his answer became silence, she questioned him lightly, "... are you alright?"

"I... I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," he finally answered with a shaken voice. His head pivoted and his devastated glistening eyes glued upon hers as he needed for her to understand. He needed her merciful grace. "... I could have... I could have saved him. I could have saved him and stopped before he had... Oh, Elizabeth... what have I _done_?" He turned his head away to the fire as if it carried the answer. The emotions began to overwhelm him as he could no longer stomach the guilt of all his actions. The weight of the world- the fate of Tamriel- the guilt of _his_ death... it all had been bottled up for too long. His previous dream had been the trigger for this emotional breakdown.

Silence was her answer as she turned her eyes to the fire as well. What was she to say to him? Oh- yes... you have ruined my life as well as our relationship. I never want to see you again—no... she couldn't be cruel. The guilt and pain he felt now was his well earned punishment. A weak smile pulled to her lips as she told the knight, "... I half expected you and Xilivicus to be working with each other. You have given him precisely what he wanted."

The man's ears perked and he turned his head back to her with a saddened façade, "... he loved you Elizabeth. I would never—he would unquestionably never..." his eyes closed as he concentrated upon his words and as he caught grasp of the precise words he opened his eyes and informed her, "... there is _no_ man upon this earth who would wish to die knowing there is a girl who is waiting for him to return to her. Xilivicus loved you ever so much, Elizabeth... and I stole his life from you."

"You stole nothing," she laughed weakly while shaking her head softly. Her long silver tresses glowed in the firelight as she turned her head. Her eyes fastened back upon him as she explained, "He told me it would be better off if we had never met," her forced smile soon faded as she could recall those fiery eyes that burned through her. She remembered the way he spoke and how he never wished to submit her to a life with a Daedra. In that moment, she could see the movement of their bodies together. She could see how he arched his back as he lifted himself from her embrace to watch her as he pleased her in a way not every man could. His eyes beheld the beauty of her face as he would rock back and forth upon her. She snapped herself away from those memories by closing her eyes and shutting closed the jar that held his memory. "... I denied the thought of him leaving... I suppose that—that the Divines had something else in mind and you were only acting upon the fate that they had carved into stone."

"Elizabeth... for one moment could you think of yourself and not the damned Nine Divines and their plan for this world!" the Hero spat with a hurtful glare. "... You _loved _him. He _loved_ you... how can you possibly be _fine_ with me murdering him?!"

His voice lifted into the parapets of stone which made Elizabeth heave a heavy sigh from her chest. As she looked back upon him she answered, "... it hurt to watch. It still hurts now and it shall hurt for my entire life. To think of what could have been is hard for your actions had engulfed them in the flames of hatred. Revenge will not settle these feelings and hatred will not bring him back. My friend... I have forgiven you for everything... don't you think it is time you forgive yourself as well?"

Silence engulfed them and their eyes continued to hold together. The security and elegance emitted from the Altmer's eyes was quickly taken in by the eyes of the knight. His weeping heart had been settled ever so slowly as he began to realize there was nothing that could bring the Dremora back. The words that she had spoken to him had been absorbed into his mind and just like the light of a candle it had discharged a bright light that fought back the growing darkness. With another painful thought, the man turned his head forward as he spoke out to the maiden, "... I just wish there was something I could do..."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly knowing that behind his flaws there was a sympathetic creature that only wished for acceptance. A gentle hand lifted and settled across the man's darkened shoulder. The man's head turned as the High Elf spoke to him, "... I know you do..."

While he leaned upon his right side, he lifted his left hand and placed it over the maiden's with a smile creasing across his face. His fingers gripped onto her skin in a appreciative sign. Her words had taken the weight from his shoulders allowing his mind to stretch further then his difficult past and to carry on to what the future may hold for him. With a gracious chuckle, the knight said, "I wish there was another way to express my gratitude other then a meaningless hand gesture."

Elizabeth laughed herself while shaking her head and pushing him over slightly causing him to nearly topple over. He made a rather ridiculous face which caused the Altmer to twitter even more. As she withdrew her hand from his shoulder- and discontinued her laugh- the Hero overlooked her and questioned, "... so I guess you are dealing with this rather well. I am glad to see you're much stronger than I."

The Altmer smiled faintly as she lifted to her feet and crossed her arms across the thin fabric of the housecoat. "... it's rather late, my friend. You probably had no idea you slept for an entire day."

"An _entire_ day?" He questioned in reassurance while tossing his eyes up to her.

"Mmm-hmm," she sounded off with pursed lips and a slight nod of the head. She glanced around and made certain that everything was in order. As her eyes fell back upon the Hero she grinned and told him, "If you wouldn't mind I am going to head back to bed. If you need me I'll be up in the room right next to the emperor," the mere thought astounded her when she thought about it, "You should get some more rest yourself—Tamriel is waiting to see its valiant knight rise up to fight yet again."

"Oh boy," he muttered sarcastically with a grin, "I just can't wait."

A gentle giggle came from her mouth and she turned her body to the door. Just before she left she glimpsed down at the knight and bid to him, "... Sweet dreams, Great Champion of Cyrodiil."

Just as he was to issue the same farewell, he heard Xilivicus' in his mind and he muttered off to the maiden rather quickly, "... I had a dream about _him_... about Xilivicus, that is."

Elizabeth's long curved ears had perked as she had heard that name. Her head pivoted around rather hurriedly causing her tresses to spin in the air. Her eyes sheltered a slight interest as she wheezed, "Oh?"

The Hero nodded frantically while explaining to her, "... I dreamed he lived... and... and he told me how much he misses you." He was careful with his words for he knew that far too many words could cause her strength to dissipate and her sadness to resume its reign upon her heart. With a scowl, the Hero informed her, "... he told me that there was another part of him... somewhere outside of Oblivion and to tell 'them' sorry and that I was to take care of 'them'." He laughed weakly as he brandished the mere thought as just his imagination creating ridiculous images. "It was a rather weird dream... a little silly if you ask me."

"Yes," her voice was bleak and so distant; nevertheless, it appeared as if she were right there with him with her attention on every word he spoke. A weak smile upon her face as she agreed, "It sounds like a rather weird dream."

As he turned his eyes to her he couldn't help but allow a scowl to mask his façade, "... Are you _sure_ that you're alright, Elizabeth? You don't have to lie about it."

"I'm fine; truly fine," a brighter smile lit up her face and she bid the knight farewell soon gliding back to the door of which she had used previously.

Just as she had turned her back to him, the Hero became ever so skeptic of her words. His eyes were fastened upon her as with his final words of the evening he had whispered out into nothingness; _who are you trying to convince, Elizabeth: Me... or yourself? _His eyes drifted back to the fire as he positioned himself upon the bedroll and ever so simply he had drifted back to a dreamless slumber.

Elizabeth ascended the stairs rather leisurely as she sheltered many thoughts in her head. She could still see the knight's pained face as he looked at her in incredulity at her appearance and actions. Her head was held high as she rounded the corner and saw that Baurus had left his post near the heir's door. Possibly it had been Jaufree who pried him away long enough to get some sleep. The maiden's grinning appearance faded into nothingness as she sauntered to the paper sliding door which stood idly next to the emperor's door. Her fingertips fitted perfectly into the curve made in the handle. She pushed the door open and slipped inside. As she turned around and closed the door she also closed the door upon all the lies.

Her body weakened and no longer could she hold that elegant poise of a High Elf. Her body broke apart causing her to collapse upon the frame of the sliding door. She slid down until she was sitting upon the floor with her hand still fitted perfectly in the handle. Her other hand had risen and covered her mouth as she cried silently to herself knowing she couldn't hold the emotions any longer.

**Are you **sure **that you're alright...? **

_No, I don't believe I am... how can I possibly be alright?_ She saw the rising and falling of Xilivicus' back as he rocked back and forth upon her. She felt his teeth biting into her skin and his hands ravaging her body.

**He told me how much he misses you... **

His hot breaths were falling like fog upon her heaving chest as the warmth from both their drenched bodies began to boil his blood. She could feel his firm sturdy hands fall upon her bare hips where his hands fit perfectly over her hip bones.

**He **loved **you! You **loved** him! How can you possibly be fine with me murdering him?!**

She could remember when he had grasped her tightly and forced himself upon his back. Her eyes grew wide and she could hear his wonderful laugh as he joked about her being the scholar of Tamriel and yet she was so clueless upon this subject. She remembered her laugh. It was so ample with happiness and affection. Xilivicus was kind and patient with her as he instructed her on how to move her body. Her eyes fluttered as she was overwhelmed with the sensation. Her cheeks turned pinked as she lowered her torso and pressed herself against his breathtaking and handsome body.

**I had a dream about **him**. About Xilivicus, that is.**

She remembered how his lips tasted. She remembered how it felt when he had nibbled at her ear. Even now she could still see those eyes. Those fiery eyes. Even though he wasn't a Dremora they altered back to the color they once were. That blazing tangerine. Those eyes had exchanged grief for love. Those eyes observed great amounts of pleasure. Those eyes... yes... those eyes.

**Elizabeth... I love you more than the stars in the sky. I couldn't imagine life without you, my sweet, my darling. ... I swear to you... I swear by my life that I shall never leave you. I shall always guide and protect you, Elizabeth, through all life's disappointments and victories. **Xilivicus grinned as she requested he say it once more. Say those three little words to her that lit her world up brighter then those stars in the sky causing her adoration to run deeper than the rivers coursing through Tamriel. **Elizabeth... **_**I love you**_...

"... Xilivicus..." Elizabeth sobbed lightly to herself as she pulled her hand from her face. She allowed it to fall lifelessly beside her as she could only focus upon those eyes that had burned their way into her mind. His memory turned only to smoke and her love, which once put the magma of Oblivion to shame, turn only to ash which vanished when a breeze would carry in from a distant land. "... I _hate _you."

**Are you **sure **that you're alright...?**

_No... I don't believe... I am._

**_--TBC--_**

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_****_This was more of a... tragedy romance chapter and yes that was what I was going for. If you were hoping for some action well too bad. You're gonna have to do without it for a while. I think we have maybe four or five chapters left. Just a heads up... READ ... AND ... REVIEW! _**


	27. Masquerading Lies Behind Closed Doors

**_Uhm... haha... erm... yeah this is an extremely long chapter. Around... 33 pages on Microsoft Word or something? If you wanted to know why it took so long to update-- that is probably why. If I get any complaints about this chapter being too long I will make certain that I never make a chapter this long ever again. I do hope you enjoy-- not very actiony. But anyways, enjoy._**

Song: Passion – Utada Hikaru

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The next morning rolled in through the thickening white mist that lingered outside the fortress. The blistering sun had stood upon tiptoe as it glanced over the jagged shoulders of the mountains that seemed to circle Cyrodiil. The Blades were raised from their mats instinctively and almost by design. They stalked across the immediate premises as fear and anxiety hid beneath the safety of their helmets. As Oblivion woke upon this morning, the Blades knew that it would not settle for such a defeat as it had experienced the few days prior to now. Especially since no imperative lives were lost on Tamriel's side. The fog crept through the gate like a vagabond attempting to find shelter for a harsh winter's night. Only the rising sun seemed to push it back out upon the snowy terrain, clearing the temple's steps and courtyard.

The temple doors had swung ajar allowing the old worn structure of Jerald to saunter out into the courtyard. His arms had wrapped tightly around his chest in and attempt to preserve the escaping heat. His hot breath billowed out before him and rose into the misty air. He took deep breaths of the crisp mountain air as he would need all the energy that it could provide for him. Later in the morning and early in the midday, he must address his children of the matters that seemed critical at the moment. His eyes shimmered as he reminisced the last few days. He had recalled the anguish that overcame him when he only saw two of his three sons pace through the grand door—a look of grief was upon them. Orrick's heavy shoulders slumped under his padded armor as he could not dare face his father; however, Daelon approached him and without more ado told him of his brother's passing.

Jerald grieved within his own time and even so he was still strong. His son died with honor upon the battlefield in hopes to save Tamriel. For this, Jerald would hold him high in his heart and remember his childish ways and youthful spirit as well as his hardened heart of courage and wisdom. As his gold trimmed shoes shuffled across the old worn cobblestone courtyard, he looked out past the walls of the temple and to the transcendent peaks of the Jerall Mountains. His crystal eyes absorbed the natural beauty of these magnificent steeples of boulder. His black hair had fallen from its casual oiled position allowing some onyx strands to fall across his creased brow. A few jagged streaks of silver had rooted their way through the man's scalp and through the follicles of hair showing just how old he was getting. He hadn't objected their presence for he accepted his age of seventy-five. True to the fact that he wasn't getting any younger; however, he still had a ways to go until he certified himself to be just another old babbling geezer. His father had lived to be 156 and so he had hoped the same fate for himself.

As he marveled at the beauty surrounding this safe haven, another Asquerana had escaped the warmth of the temple to be embraced with the brisk mountain air. The temple door had closed much louder then expected which alerted the father of which child it was. His unmoving eyes focused upon the horizon as he called out to the wind which carried behind him and struck the ears of Daelon, "... did you sleep well, son?"

The answer was delayed as Daelon had been slapped with a cold burst of wind. His teeth gnashed together as he stepped forward and allowed his sore eyes to adjust to such brightness. His amber eyes had settled and he looked upon the back of his father. _How is it you are so strong in these desperate times?_ The young Altmer questioned himself as he stepped forward and replied, "Yes, sir."

"I am glad to hear that," Lord Asquerana grinned as he turned around to welcome his son. His unkempt hair fell further across his brow as he cleared his throat and rapidly began, "I heard... that Grandmaster Jaufree had offered you a preparatory position as a Blade. He told me how fearless you were when you fought upon the battlefield and how you daringly charged through the Great Gate in search for Elizabeth. You make me very proud, son."

Daelon nodded his head in comprehension as he spoke softly out to his father. His wavering voice carrying through the smooth and gentle movements of the wind, "... I had never thought of myself as one to be offered such a noble and high-ranking position as this," his head bowed as he thought over his words and pieced them together. His lips had pursed as he made certain that the cold of the air would not invade his mouth and freeze his lungs. "I had hoped to return to Kvatch when this was all over... I want... I want to be there and protect it from ever being harmed again."

Jerald gave a head nod. His structure grew hard as he stood his height and looked over Cyrodiil which nestled itself beneath a thick sheet of crystals and snow. The Altmer glanced to his son and told him, "I don't think you'll have to worry about Kvatch, my son. After this is over I am certain it shall never be threatened again."

Daelon stood in silence as he tossed his eyes to the horizon as well. Cyrodiil began to stir as the blazing sun tossed its glorious golden hand across the land soon bringing life to every slumbering being and thing. The coldness began to seize the better of him as he began to shiver in the cold of the morning. The young Altmer's face grew stiff as the memory of Caldwyn began to flood his mind. His poor mangled body tossed so carelessly aside causing a few billows of snow to leap into the air as he struck and rolled across the frozen ground. Daelon could see those unfeeling demonic eyes of that damned Dremora. Just as he began to think of the wretched realm of Oblivion, another matter came to his mind and his head pivoted rapidly around as he questioned, "Has he waken up yet?" Daelon didn't think it necessary for a name for his father knew precisely who he would be speaking of.

"He awoke in the middle of the night. I'm glad that he had survived Oblivion yet again. He is rather blessed by the Divines or has the luck of the Gray Fox." Jerald scoffed with a gentle smile pulling across his pale lips.

Daelon turned his eyes away as he began to question many things to himself. Surely, he hadn't the answer to any of these questions, but he thought it necessary to ask at least someone. With one last glimpse to his father he told him, "I think I will head back inside now. Orrick and Elizabeth should be waking up right around now."

Jerald smiled politely at his son soon nodding in acknowledgement. His head turned back to the horizon and he allowed the beauty of everything to captivate him yet again as his eldest son turned and slipped back within the safety of the temple walls.

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Daelon slithered silently back into the warmth of the dim room feeling all the cold slip from him and vanish like a puff of smoke. His ears perked as he heard the Hero's distinctive Colovian voice. The smell of smoldering wood flooded into Daelon's nostrils as he leisurely proceeded with his eyes upon the fireplace where the Hero was. The knight had healed progressively from night into this early morning. He had risen from his bedroll and paced around the room speaking with fellow Blades and even questioning Jaufree what their next plan of action was.

Daelon watched as Jaufree bid farewell and hurriedly made his way to the training area to check upon newest Blades recruits. The Hero's lively eyes shifted and fell upon Daelon with a soft grin. He stepped forward and greeted the Altmer cheerfully which made Daelon almost wonder if he had amnesia as well.

The Altmer remembered perfectly how strict and callous the Hero had been upon the day of the battle, but now he had seemed transformed into a very kind and gracious Imperial man. Daelon's eyes drifted down to the man's opened tunic which brandished the thick bondages surrounding his upper chest. With a curious head nod, the Altmer questioned, "... how are you handling it?"

The Hero's eyes fell to his chest and he chuckled softly while glancing back up to his friend. He shrugged his heavy shoulders and retorted, "I've been in worse condition. Still, it's not just some walk in the park. It has its moments of true pain." Just as the Hero had answered him his eyes flashed with a question and his attention snapped to the Altmer, "... do you know where Elizabeth is?"

"No," Daelon answered hurriedly with slightly widened eyes. As his amber eyes narrowed he cocked his head to a side and inquired almost guardedly, "Why?"

"I ran out of health potions during the night and was wondering if she could give me a few more. I want this damned wound healed before Martin and Jaufree decide the next course of action." The knight explained while patting his hand gently upon the bondages a wince soon becoming of his face.

Daelon looked circumspectly at the bondages. His lips coiled downwards as disappointment smeared across his face. He knew clearly that the wound would never heal in time. However, he had seen quite a bit of miracles in his many days and by the hand of the gods he could be healed sooner then expected. "If you're looking for Elizabeth I'm sure she'd still be in her room. Other then that you would have to ask Jaufree or maybe even Orrick." _That is if you can even find him. _Daelon had thought after he spoke.

After bidding farewell, the Hero paced over to the sleeping quarters and slipped through the door. He was silent as he shifted across the steps and rounded the small case that led to the second floor. Many Blades were still asleep upon this frozen and dreary morning. Even Martin was still lying lifelessly in his bed, probably encircled in a fit of sheets with slobber staining his pillow. The Hero stumbled down the hall as he focused his eyes upon Elizabeth's idle door. Within his mind he could see her throwing open the door and frightening him just as he was about to enter. Was she even awake? Did she even have any more potions? Would she tolerate him awakening her from her sleep? A few of these questions stormed his restless mind as he crept along the wall like some sort of burglar. His fingertips were gentle as they slid within the handle and pushed the sliding door hardly back. His head of golden locks cocked to a side as he peered in and whispered in a deep rich voice, "... Elizabeth...?"

A head cocked to a side as well in almost a mirror image of the knight's head. Elizabeth grinned and let of a cheerful little laugh as she called him in. The sliding door slide as far open as it could allowing the Hero to saunter into the room. A few candles had been lit making the room glow a beautiful and warm golden color. Upon the desk sat a few books that had been taken from Jaufree's personal collection. All the books were opened nearly halfway in with little charcoal marks around some of the important words that the maiden had wished to remember. As the man looked upon this gargantuan pile he could bring to mind the day that he had walked into the temple to see Martin sitting around the same pile of books. Dark marks had settled under his calm blue eyes for he had spent most of his time with his nose stuck within a book.

The Hero tossed his head around the room with a soft chuckle as he murmured, "... why didn't I get a room like this?"

Elizabeth grinned as she walked back over to the books and closed a few. Certainly not before she put a quill between the golden crisp pages to mark her place. Her extensive silver hair had been pulled back and placed within a very tight ponytail. The hair arched its silvery back and swooped down like a horse's tail. It bounced with each step she took and shook with each shake of her head. Her porcelain face was fully exposed now instead of hiding behind a hoary veil. Her petite frozen rosebud lips pouted as she gave off a small smile while stacking a few of her books. When she had finished she tossed her eyes over her shoulder and questioned, "I suppose you are feeling much better then?"

"Oh, tons," he replied while walking a little further into the room. He crossed his arms behind his back causing his shoulders to pull back. He felt his muscles contract in his neck as he did this and suddenly he had remembered why he had came here. His eyes drifted across the room and suddenly befell the girl as he asked her, "I was wondering if you had any more health potions. I would really like this wound to heal as fast as possible."

"I have already given you a maximum dose. The rest of the healing will be up to your body," she explained while turning her back to the desk and leaning back upon it. Her arms crossed before her chest, resting gently upon the material of the burgundy gold trimmed dress that Jaufree had fetched for her in Bruma. The dark smooth material caressed her curves with a lover's touch. "I'm sorry to say," she continued with a hidden frown, "but there's not much else I can do for you."

With a heaved groan the Hero ran a firm tan hand carelessly through his golden locks. His fingertips dug into his scalp causing a diminutive sensation of pain and delight. His eyes shifted across the room as he thought silently to himself. With a swift eye shift, he glanced back to the maiden and questioned, "How long do you think it shall take?"

As she pondered over his question her eyes fell to his torso. She examined his body as if he were a collected specimen upon a pinning board. Her vision was gentle and very precise. With each advantage of his body came a faster healing rate; on the contrary, with every disadvantage came an addition to such a rate. She raised a hand to her chin soon tapping the pad of her index finger across the smooth and warm surface of her lips. Her eyes lifted back up to her friend and she frowned lightly with the answer he dreaded, "Maybe a day or two."

His hopes began to fade within a dark void as she had told this to him. Oh, how he had hoped he would be healed in a few hours or even less then that! No telling what Jaufree and Martin had figured out—and he would surely not sit idly by while they sent another Blade or just some paid adventure. The new hero would end up dead and Jaufree and the Blades would be one step behind while Mankar Camoran took a step forward. No, this he would not allow. With a desperate sigh, he questioned while waving his hands in the air hoping to bring forth the answer he desired, "Is there _anything_ you can do?"

The Altmer's face became hardened like a statuette as she considered this. With a harsh shove off the desk she stood upon her two feet which were spread out a ways. She proceeded forward and stood directly before the Hero. Her hands lifted to his tunic as she spread apart the two loosely hung pieces of material. She observed the bondage and then replied to his question, "I may be able to heal you myself—but I can't promise to seal the wound."

"Anything that might work, I will try." He said while glancing down to the bondages with desperate eyes.

With a flick of her wrist, she motioned to the petite oak stool that casually stood before the cluttered desk. The knight caught on very quickly and made his way over to the little furniture. He was careful sitting for he didn't know if such a feeble looking piece of timber would be able to hold him up. The stool had not made any foreboding creaking noise that suggested a humiliating fall as he sat. Quickly the phrase, 'don't judge a book by its appearance' came to his mind and he turned to the mainden soon pushing the thought of a defective stool from his mind. Elizabeth stepped nearer with her eyes fastened upon her contracting and loosening fists. She watched as little orbs of blue appeared and vanished in her palm. She made certain that she could perform a Convalescence spell that may be able to heal the Hero's wounds. Just as she was certain she could preform the spell, she kneeled down before him and began to unwrap the bandages upon his chest.

Her fingertips were nimble and ever so gentle as her hands had moved about the abrasion upon the man's left breast. She unwrapped the wound like a child may do upon their birthday. Eager to see what surprise hid among the wrapping yet ever so wary for there might be nothing at all. Her trained eyes skimmed the area as the wound began to reveal itself. Splotches of dried blood had stained the bondages and she was careful for she didn't know if the wound was bleeding anymore. The curtains were pulled away and the abrasion took the stage. It was traced with a puffy swollen pinked edge as if it was showing just precisely how long and wide it was. It was the width of the fang of a Dremora longsword. The man was lucky that it hadn't been a claymore or even a battle axe that had pierced him for he may not even be alive in this moment.

Elizabeth's trained eyes observed the dark swirling crimson which pulled together the two pieces of skin to hide from the light of the room. Upon seeing this, her faith in the spell began to increase. She had feared the worst of the wound. A sickening golden pus, darkening area of infection, jagged chips of metal nesteled upon his skin—there were many things that could have been terribly wrong with the wound and yet there seemed nothing immediately wrong at all. Mara and Dibella must have been watching over him.

The curve of the maiden's palms began to emit a radiant cerulean sphere. The pulsating orb seeped out of her hands and began to fall like fog upon the man's chest. The Elf kept her hands moving for she didn't want to only heal a section of his wound; she wanted to heal the entire thing. Her hands moved in relaxed circular clockwise motions in hopes to cover his whole chest. The Hero felt a frozen chill run through his heart as he could feel the wonderful arctic rush of the spell. The pain that throbbed in his chest was now calmed under a perfect sapphire blanket. The knight leaned his elbow back upon the table in a rather relaxed position. As he leaned back he was also attempting to pull his eyes away from such a blazing light. His lips coiled into a grin and his eyes squinted as he smiled down upon the healing wound. His eyes suddenly shifted and he looked upon Elizabeth with comfort and a friendly sort of intimacy. "… Thank you for doing this, Elizabeth."

"You needn't thank me," she smiled while continuing to observe the area. She could see the tinted blue scraps of skin begin to crawl back together. Her eyes glimpsed up to her friend for a second before soon returning to the healing slash. "It's the least I can do for you," a scowl creased her face and an overwhelming saddened sensation overcame her heart. "I've been so cruel and oblivious to you and your feelings. I only wish for you to forgive me of that."

"Forgive you?" scoffed the Hero with an amiable smile, "I should be the one begging for forgiveness. The past is the past, Elizabeth. The only thing we can do about it now is put it behind us and start anew."

"Such wise words," she told him while glancing back to him again. Her voice was soothing and kind as she spoke, "… you sure have changed since I last saw you—what happened?"

His warm brown eyes observed his wound before returning to her, "… I... I began to realize how precious life is. Why waste my days in hatred and arrogance when I can spend it in happiness with the people who are closest to me." He turned his eyes to the desk to observe the open books whose pages seemed to glisten in the light of the flickering candle. He wondered if he might know any of the things that she happened to be studying. A grimace creapt upon his face as he had quickly familiarized himself with these works. All the books spoke the same thing and that was, 'CONJURATION'. The Hero turned his eyes back to Elizabeth with a manifesting sympathy. _You told me you were fine._ He spoke to himself. Even if he hadn't wanted to bring the subject up, it had seemed his mouth fell ajar and the words slipped over his damp tongue, "… Elizabeth you can't summon him from the dead."

The constant clockwise motions quickly came to a halt as she heard his words. The spell faded into a smoke and soon vanished all together and she turned his eyes up to him. Those eyes no longer held the innocence that they always did. Her face tightened in annoyance as he told her this. _How would you know? Have you tried? Have you tried to call someone back?_ Her lips pursed and her teeth bit harshly down upon the side of her cheek as she spoke out to him and the soothing rich tone she used to shelter now vanished and her words began harsh and strident, "I think it can be done."

How could she think that? The only thing she would be able to get out of summoning _him_ would be a floating crystal spirit and that may not even happen. Did Daedra even have souls that could be summoned back? Surely Xilivicus had turned mortal, but that did not mean he was given a Daedric spirit or a human soul for that matter. Her eyes held all the pain in the world as she looked up at him. She wanted to defy him and prove that she was right. She wanted to force him to lie to her—to tell her, 'I think it can be done! I think you can bring him back!' Was he jealous? Was that what made him disagree with her? No, it was the truth that made him disagree. His brow furrowed over his shimmering dark eyes as he spoke softly to her in hopes to calm her rising anger, "Elizabeth… it _can't_ be done. If he were still alive in Oblivion then yes, I think you could do it and I would wish you the best of luck in doing so, but…" he stopped for a mere moment to reconsider his words and even his own opinions, "… but he died in _Oblivion_. Gods know if his spirit could escape that realm or even if he had a spirit-"

"-he had a spirit," Elizabeth interupted with a sharpened tongue.

"-my point is, Elizabeth," the Hero continued calmly, "He was a _Daedra_. I haven't ever heard of someone summoning a Dremora who had been wiped from the records of Oblivion before. Believe me, Elizabeth, I have been all across Cyrodiil and Oblivion as well. I haven't heard or seen anyone who could do that."

"Then I'll figure out a way to do it," Elizabeth argued while pushing herself to her feet. She glanced to the wound to see that it had sealed. It could be easily torn back open if the Hero had attempted to go on any missions for Jaufree or Martin so he would have to wait a few more hours until his skin had strengthened and entirely sealed.

The Hero forced himself up as well causing the stool to finally let off that predicted wary creak. The man narrowed his eyes and with a saddened head shake he told the fuming maiden, "… don't do this, Elizabeth. If you get completely involved with this summoning you will only cause yourself more pain. Xilivicus is _dead_. You must accept that."

"He isn't _dead_," she snarled while twisting her head back around and tossing him a scolding glare. "… maybe… maybe he drank a part of the potion. Maybe he was reborn in Oblivion. There is still hope!"

"No," the Hero shook his head while stepping forward. First she would be in denial and then she would turn to accusations, he was certain. "There isn't any hope left. It's over, Elizabeth. There's nothing else you can do."

Violent screams echoed through her mind as she wished so much for the knight to leave her room immediately. His mere presence fueled her anger and annoyance for he continued to object and deny her attempts to summon back the only being who she ever loved and who ever loved her in return. The flooding memories of Xilivicus began to cloud her mind and her body began to weaken just as it had in the early stages of the morning. She attempted so frantically to hold upon the last morsel of hope that escaped her body. Her head tore back and forth as she snapped, "Yes there is!"

The Hero proceeded with those dark sympathetic eyes. He reached forward in an attempt to bring the Altmer to him, hoping to comfort her. She tore herself away and turned her body away from him. She faced the wall as she lowered her head so her gaze would fall to the floor. Was this the side of her that she wished to hide from him? He stepped even closer and shook his head as if she were watching him, "… Elizabeth…"

"Stop," she snapped while wrapping her arms around herself, "Just stop, I don't want to hear about your pathetic attempt to keep Xilivicus away from me. You hated him. Don't lie—you were _glad_ when you killed him! If I summon him back I'm sure that you'll only murder him again! You never did change did you? Did you?!" Her tone of voice struck a high pitched yell as she could no longer supress these emotions she wished to hide until she was alone and shrouded in the darkness of her room. Her fingertips dug into her sides causing a twinge of pain to run through her nerves. "Would you just leave me alone?! _Leave me alone! Just leave!_" Her voice shrieked out and pierced through the walls like jagged bars of metal.

Her voice was shrill and thunderous as it came from her contracted throat. The sonance of her voice had caused the Hero's eardrums to throb in a twinge of ache. Tears flooded down the Altmer's rosy cheeks for her nerves had finally unraveled. Her back heaved as she sobbed and she knew that if she faced the man she would only sob even louder. Her hands lifted and formed into tightened fists as she pressed them against the rough surface of the wooden bedroom wall. The crown of her head pushed against her petite white thumbs as she bowed her head in hopes to control her blustering sobs.

Over the blubbering noise of her crying, she had heard the faint scratching noise of the sliding door close. Had the Hero truly left her in peace? Her head had jerked from its position against her fists and she tossed her gaze to the door to see the knight standing besides the door. His hand still lingering in the handle as he closed and slid the lock into the wall. His hardened condoling eyes turned to the maiden as he had told her, wordlessly, that he would surely not leave her alone in this state. Elizabeth's face was distorted as she looked upon him in anger and sadness. Her rounded small nose became as rosy as her cheeks and her eyes glistened now like diamonds in a river basking in the rays of the sun. Her lips were pulled under her teeth as she attempted to hold back her hateful screams. Her lips trembled and finally she demanded of the knight in a harsh voice, "Get out of my room, _now_."

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered her demand by walking to her in a quickened stride.

"I'll scream…. G-gods help me—I'll… I'll scream bloody m-murder." She threatened while stepping back into a corner. She had quickly realized that he could pin her in the corner and this made her leap over the mattress and make her way to the other side of the room.

"Go ahead," he told her while proceeding after her. He had pushed aside objects to clear his path as his eyes were fastened upon her. The muscles in his body tightening as he prepared himself for a struggle. "Scream as much as you want. If you would like you can even strike me down. Shock me, burn me, freeze me…" his eyes had glimsped away to the glistening sharpened blade of an Akavari Katana whose head rested against the edge of the desk. "... If you would like you may even slash my chest back open. Elizabeth, I won't leave you here like this."

She shook her head furiously while snarling, "Stop acting like my Hero! I don't need a hero—I had one... and now he's dead."

"I'm not trying to be your hero," the knight's soothing words flowed into her and calmed her heart for only a few seconds. "I'm trying to be your friend."

"Then be a good friend and leave me the bloody hell _alone_!" She screamed while seizing a nearby Conjuration book from the desk. Her grasp had tightened on it and with one toss of her arm she flicked her wrist and catapulted it forward. The pages rustled together as the book spun through the air in an attempt to hinder the proceeding man.

The man stepped out of the way and continued to watch the maiden as he stood straight before her. Elizabeth looked up to him with frightened eyes for she feared some sort of punishment even though she was certain that he would not dare harm her. Her body jerked forward and she bolted to the door in hopes to escape from the Hero. Just as she moved past him, he had pivoted and launched his hand forward and seized her forearm tightly. Elizabeth yelped as she felt him seize her. His grasp had sent her skin on fire as if he were some sort of excruciating ailment. Vigilantly, he had pulled her back to him and held her securely to his damaged chest. She twisted and turned in hopes to escape his clutch, but there was no prevail. Her dress brushed across the newly sealed wound soon beginning to open it again. Her hands pushed upon his chest and he winced in pain but did not relinquish. The strength at last escaped from Elizabeth and she became a sobbing distorted figure in the man's constricted embrace. Her head buried itself upon one of the droopily hung sides of his tunic as she cried profoundly. Her tears stained his shirt; nevertheless, he hadn't mind.

His saddened eyes narrowed as he pulled her even tighter to himself. Oh, how he wished that he may take this burden and hurt from her. He wished there was something he could do to save her from this misery. But this would have to be a phase of her life that she would have to deal with on her own. No one could carry this burden for her. His square jaw was placed tenderly upon the crown of her head as she buried her head even further into his shirt. He stood there, idly, and became the crying shoulder which Elizabeth needed so horribly. Why hadn't he comforted her sooner? Was it for the reason that he had, in reality, believed her fabricated proclamation of being just 'fine'? As his left arm held Elizabeth securely to him, his right hand had lifted to the back of her head and caressed his innocent fingertips through her lengthy silver tresses which veiled the pain and suffering that was nestled in the darkness of her mind.

His eyes shifted across the floor as he could hear her abrupt breaths and her arduous sobs that she struggled to silence. Her fingertips gripped cruelly into his shoulders as she collapsed completely into his arms like a broken shell of her former self. His desire to take the weakness from her became an illness to him for he could feel his own body deteriorating along with hers. His murky chocolate eyes became hazy as his own sadness was exposed in this room. He closed his eyes vehemently and a few teardrops slithered down his tanned cheeks.

The knight and the scholar clasped onto each other in desperation and in dread of complete solitude from ever returning to a state of happiness. They stood alone in the center of this cluttered undersized bedroom with only the hope of the other person to accommodate them with the salvation they so desperately needed to escape their atrocious and haunting past.

-+-

The main temple had cleared of regular Blades for Jaufree had called a clandestine session between the Asqueranas, the Heir, and the Champion of Cyrodiil. The fire shone brighter then it ever had as it lit the room allowing some luminosity to fall upon the opened crisp pages of Mysterium Xarxes that Martin had brandished to the surrounding observors. He explained most of what he had learned by reading it and many other things that had come to his mind in the past few days. Jaufree and the Asquerana men sat by listening intently, nodding in comprehension and sometimes putting in their two cents. Martin's aged sun kissed hands lifted the two intruments that the Hero had sought for him in the last few weeks. In his right hand he cradled the Great Sigil stone who appeared as a gargantuan hellfire pearl. In his left hand he cradled the Great Welkynd stone which appeared as a beautiful sparkling crystal which gave off its own eerie radiance.

Martin's knowledgeable calm blue eyes had lingered upon each and every face hoping he hadn't confused anyone. His words were gentle and simple as he had explained how these two great curios would provide them a portal which only the Hero may pass through to find Mankar Camoran, retrieve the Amulet of Kings and return it to Cloud Ruler Temple so that Martin may travel to light the dragonfires and become the new emperor. For this was the only way to keep Tamriel from falling into the darkness and becoming the new kingdom of Mehrunes Dagon.

Just as Martin was about to conclude, his brow creased and he glanced around the room with shifty eyes. At last, he turned to Jaufree and questioned lightly in his rich deep voice, "... speaking of our Hero... where is he?"

The old Grandmaster stood befuddled as he shook his head with no helpful reply. The firelight shone upon Martin's back as he turned to the Asquerana family. Now he became only a silhouette of the heir as he directed his attention to them. Daelon had tossed his eyes towards the living quarter's door and he lifted his voice soon answering the question put before them all. He swirled his hand in the air as if he attempted to wave the answer toward himself, "... Last time I had heard from him, he was looking for Elizabeth."

With a head nod, the heir stood up and pivoted his head slightly to the side as he told Jaufree with a very delicate tone of voice, "I'll see if they are still in her bedroom."

Jerald's eyes widened considerably as he heard this. A rather surprised sensation became of him. His head cocked to a side as he sputtered, "... her... _bedroom_?"

Martin turned to Jerald and with a nod he had affirmed it. His lips parted as he explained to his elder friend, "... I had been up in my room moments before and I heard them talking. I hadn't really paid attention to them—it would have been rude to eavesdrop upon their conversation. When Jaufree came to get me I had thought he had fetched the maiden and her guard," he intertupted his talking with an added explaination, "... I had been reading more of Mankar's works... I get completely engulfed in reading I hardly pay attention to the outside world, you see."

Daelon lifted himself from his wooden stool with a gentle smile coiling across his lips, "I'll fetch them then, that is, if you don't mind, sir."

Martin grinned politely as he took his seat yet again. "Not at all," he replied to the Altmer's proposal. With a distant chuckle and a lowered gaze, the Imperial man spoke lightly as he knew that his kind joke might offend the prudish behavior of the High Elves. "... make sure you knock before you enter, though. I wouldn't want you to... intrude upon their activites."

Just as expected, Jerald had tensed with a certain disgust. Not for the heir, but for his choice of words. Surely his daughter would not dare... she wouldn't... or would she? The elder Altmer turned his gaze away with a furrowed brow as he thought soberly of the thought of his daughter fornicating with a man out of wedlock. He had taught her better then that. Surely the joke was just meant to lighten the spirits of the people in the area.

On the contrary to Jerald's reaction, Daelon had chuckled as well. A bright grin pulled over his lips as he bowed his head in respect and told Martin before turning to leave, "I will make certain I do alert them of my precense."

Daelon pushed himself through the cracked door rather silently. His padded shoes stepped lightly upon the wooden floors as he trudged up the ancient steps and up into the higher living quarters. Leisurely had he walked for he wished to marvel at the woodwork of the walls and the doors that lie ahead of him. His thick raven tresses fell over his shoulders and chest in waves and nearly blended into the dark material of the tunic that was brandished that suspended from his slender frame. His skin glistened in the light as if his flesh was burdened with a gentle oil. As he approached the sliding door to his sister's chamber, his hand hurriedly lifted to the framework and just as he was about to knock considerably, he hindered. His eyes fell upon the shimmering structure of the handle as he thought to himself for a mere moment. Would Elizabeth really be doing anything with the Champion of Cyrodiil? Then those piercing tangerine eyes came to his mind and he grinned. _How foolish of me—she has Xilivicus. Why would she want to do anything with the Hero?_ His mind was innocent for he hadn't known of the passing of the former-Dremora who perished in the lake of fire that he had faced a few days before. He didn't think it essential to knock and for that reason, he hadn't. His hindered fist lowered gradually to the handle and slowly he had placed his fingers under the golden slab and he pulled the door back soon entering the room, "... Martin Septim would like..." his voice broke off into silence as he looked upon Elizabeth's mattress. His eyes were fastened upon the slumbering lifeless figure of his sister whose body was draped across the bare chest of the Hero. The man's head jerked up and his eyes widened dreadfully as he caught glimpse of the man who now spectated the position of Elizabeth and himself. Daelon's façade had been frozen in time as he looked upon the two. Even though he wore a mask of happiness, his voice was comparatively dreary and angered. His grinning lips parted and he demanded softly—in hopes not to wake his sister, "... what are you doing with Elizabeth?"

The Hero glanced down bemused as if he hadn't known that Elizabeth was even in the room with him. His fingertips stroked past one of her bare pasty shoulders for the material of her dress hand slipped and now lay cloaked under the flowing taupe sheets of her bed that had formed over their entwined bodies like a second sheet of skin. The man's lips had finally parted and he explained gently, "... she was crying, Daelon. I... I finally got her to stop crying and... and so I sat us down upon her bed and she rested upon my chest and fell asleep. I didn't plan for her to fall asleep," his eyes slipped back down to the beautiful slumbering crown of the maiden as she slept on, not bothered at all by her brother's abrupt appearance. "... she was healing my wound," the Hero had told him while tossing his eyes back up to the frozen structure of the male Altmer, "... and we got in a fight and then she cried."

Daelon's eyes narrowed sympathetically as he looked upon his sister. Had the divide of Oblivion and Tamriel caused such a saddened emotion to overflow Elizabeth's heart? Could she truly not live without looking upon Xilivicus' face? This, he hadn't known. The Altmer stepped into the room soon sliding the door behind him with his eyes still upon his sister. His footsteps were wary and kind against the floorboards as he moved forward. He could still see the redness lingering in Elizabeth's cheeks. A weakened smile came to his lips as he chuckled and shook his head, "... I guess when you had closed the gate, Xilivicus was still in there. I bet she misses him terribly."

The Hero's face dissolved into a gloom-stricken façade as he looked up at Daelon in disbelief. Elizabeth hadn't told anyone? She hadn't told her _family_? The Hero lowered his gaze to the innocent form of the maiden as he replied with a lie. The guilt began to form over his shoulders yet again as he knew that once the Asquerana family had found out the dirty truth that he would be only seen as a monster in their eyes—just as he was a monster in his own eyes. "... Yeah... I guess so." His voice was rather bleak for the moment for he basked in the dark memories of shoving Xilivicus into the river of lava. _**He told me how much he misses you**_He recalled himself saying. His eyes winced and he spoke gently to himself; _My gods... I've ruined your life, haven't I? _

Daelon heaved a profound sigh as he glanced over at the paper sliding door with gentle amber eyes. He glimsped back at the Imperial man and told him, "... Martin is waiting for you downstairs. He has figured out the new step to finally bring down Mankar Camoran."

The Hero shifted his body carefully as he attempted to slide free of Elizabeth without awakening her. The matress had groaned beneath him as he slithered from the Altmer's grasp and sat upon the floorboards with a softened smile. He looked up to Daelon and saw a hand reached out for him. His hand leapt through the air and seized his friend's hand which soon hoisted him up and lifted him to his feet. His bones creaked and finally awoken themselves for he hadn't moved from that position in quite some time. Just as he was about to walk forward to the door, his head had pivoted and his glance fell upon the lifeless slumber of the woman. "... would it be safe to leave her here?"

"... this is Cloud Ruler Temple," Daelon chuckled lightly while striding to the door and sliding it open carefully. He tossed his gaze to the back of the Imperial man and whispered gently to him, "... this is the safest place in all Cyrodiil at the moment."

_There is no such thing as safe. Not in these times. Not in Tamriel. _A voice had snarled into the Hero's ear as he turned and looked to Daelon. He wanted her to sleep. He wanted her to dream about a happier place and never worry death and the loss of a love that had been murdered by his hands. Resuming his pace, he walked to the door and slide out soon closing the door behind him knowing Elizabeth would be safe from anyone outside of Cloud Ruler Temple's walls.

... but what if someone wanted to harm her _inside_ the walls of this Temple?

-+-

It was _that_ dream.

The dream where she was back in Kvatch.

Every forgotten piece of rubble that collected dust had been lifted and place back in its original form. All the pieces had formed perfectly like a grand puzzle set and the final product would be the enthralling and majestic surroundings of the lively and ever so beautiful Kvatch. Her feet were bare as she meandered leisurely down the cobblestone streets. Her soft heels had hardly kissed the ground as she walked; cautiously. The evening had seemed rather calm compared to the rambunctious ruins that lay beyond the walls of this ideal dream. Her silver tresses twisted in the air like snowy ballerinas waltzing across a midnight blue. Her mind seemed rather empty as she merely took in the scenery that loomed around her. Her heart seem inflated with a happiness that was formed from her imagination. A smile was plastered across her face as she skipped down these streets; innocently. Even though she spectated this marvelous landscape with ample blue eyes, she was blind to precisely what was happening. The buildings that towered above her were not made of limestone or brick like she had remembered so vividly from her past. They were made of paper. The trees that erected from the soft verdant earth were just a compiled structure of memories.

Slowly the blindfold began to fall and Elizabeth could clearly see what was going on. Her mind was tricking her. It all appeared to be just some sort of method to calm her restless mind and her wayward heart. Her head slowly shook back and forth as she told the hushed voices of Kvatch. "… I can see what's going on… you can't fool me." She proclaimed while turning around making certain that everything that might hear her, could.

When the mirage refused to disperse into the dark void of her thoughts, Elizabeth surrendered and continued to trudge through Kvatch's streets. The eerie silence had pulled her nerves so tight they might break. Paranoia invaded her body and her mind began to think irrationally. _Could this be a nightmare or possibly a dream? It may seem all beautiful and elegant compared to the scandalous state it once was in. But haven't you learned not to judge things by its appearances, Elizabeth? _She whispered to herself making certain she would be alert at any moment.

"…for what reason would I have a nightmare?" She questioned the other side of her which walked through the footsteps of her shadow. "If I may remind you, I'm in the safest place in the world."

_That's what you said about Kvatch… or should I refer to it as the _former_ Kvatch. _Her other side snarled to her as she examined the emerald ivy that crawled up the sides of wells and old houses, its plush leaves unfurling like flags in the calm breeze.

"… Kvatch will be restored one day. I just know it," Elizabeth proclaimed to herself.

_It will never be fully restored. Forever shall it be haunted with the shadows of Daedra. With the shadows of the Oblivion Gates. One day, it shall be torn down yet again… and so the cycle continues. _

The Elven maiden scoffed and shook her head. As she listened to these words, the voice was gradually altered into a darker and deeper male voice. She could hear the sinister accent and the harshness that loomed within the tone. However, she could also feel a sense of security when listening to it. Her eyes narrowed as she thought of the owner of the voice. Her mind ran upon a single track as she walked across the gargantuan pale grey limestone of the bridge that led to Kvatch's glorious castle. "… you're beginning to sound like…" her voice trailed off into the night as she couldn't remember that name.

The name which she naturally feared and learned to respect. The same name which used to force her to conform to its every opinion and demand. Just as the name began to flicker back into existence, she saw two piercing rubies. They shimmered like firelight and they drew Elizabeth to them like a moth to a flame. Her bare feet shuffled even faster as those two gems formed into crimson eyes.

From the base of her prolonged shadow came two jagged murky horns which coiled backward like two cuspidated Elven daggers bored of their virgin-like state, thristing for one droplet of blood to taint their peaked edges. From the base of the horns came a dark onyx head which formed from all the misery and dejection that surfaced when she thought of those two bloody eyes. Elizabeth's lengthy shadow undertook the process to come together as four limbs and a mammoth brawny body. With each step that this behemothic being took, Elizabeth had to take three. From the blackness of the face came those two glimmering bloody eyes that focused upon the back of Elizabeth's head. The two corners of the jagged nefarious lips coiled up in a exhilarated smirk.

"… beginning to sound like," Elizabeth began again as the thought began to slip from her clutches.

"Beginning to sound like who…" Broga had purred in his deep accented voice. His head had cocked slightly to a side as he glanced around her to see her scowling and troubled face, "… my darling?"

The maiden continued to walk onward, entirely oblivious to the fact that the demonic and brooding Commander now walked as her shadow as she trudged further into the castle's limits. Her head and lowered and she spoke back to the Dremora who followed her, "… you're beinning to sound like an old," her mind had gone blank and she was in lack of a better term as she described the man, "… friend."

Broga lifted his head and tossed his fiery eyes to the heavens which cradeled all the newborn stars as well as old. A few violet puddles were tossed about the cosmos and prancing silver stars danced across the surface merrily. The old Daedric Commander had never seen such beautiful stars, "Would he have relished the beauty of such a magnificent place as this?"

"… He destroyed it once," Elizabeth informed the voice. She stopped before the grand doors to the castle. Her eyes lingered upon the details that were etched finely into the majestic oak entryway. Her hands had lifted ever so warily as she continued to stare at such a vivid impersonation of the door she used to see on very frequent trips to the castle to visit the Count's daughter, Marissa. "If he had the chance I am certain he would destory it again."

"I'm sure he had better things to do then continue to destroy such a pitiful city," Broga had stalked over to a wall soon running his jagged tenacious nails across the limestone. It broke away at his fingertips and he continued to watch it crumble; unaroused.

Elizabeth had laughed heartily as she listened to his words. Her eyes had been blinded for the mere moment and she bowed her head and continued to watch the door as if she waited for some sort of magic to happen if she stared long enough. "… you do sound like… like," she lost the name yet again.

"Like," the Commander had purred while pushing himself away from the wall. His heavy feet trudged across the cobblestone courtyard and he approached the maiden rapidly. His pace had quickened and just as he had come into range, his hand had lifted and he forced the name into her mind ever so violently, "…Broga?"

At last, the blindfold had been lost and the trance that she had been put into had disolved like a billow of smoke in a rushing breeze. With a prompt jerk of the head, she turned around to see the towering ebony Dremora charging at her. She had no time to react to his attack. She began petrified by those eyes. The Dremora had hunched down as he enveloped his hand around the maiden's scrawny porcelain neck. With a rushed gagging sound, Elizabeth had seized the Commander's hand in hopes to release his tightening grasp; yet, there was no prevail.

"…B-Brog…" Elizabeth had wheezed as her back was forced upon the middle of the castle's doors. Her face nearly pressed against Broga's as he desired to look her straight into the ocean eyes. _My gods, this is a nightmare! _She screamed into her own ear.

A sinister chuckle came from the depths of his stomach and he closed his eyes as he basked in the ignorance for just merely a moment. His grip had contracted hurriedly as he opened his eyes to watch her writhe in pain then his grip had gradually loosened. To Elizabeth's horror, she had began to feel the pain of his touch seep through her pores and cause her heart to shudder. Her pupils had disappeared in the vast blue as she wondered for a moment: Could this possibly be more then just a nightmare? Could it possibly be another distorted version of reality?

Broga's jagged teeth bit into his pouted lower lip as he tried to contain a strident chuckle. As this amusement had ceased, he snarled to the maiden, "… Would it seem… that it is not only Xilivicus that haunts the dreams of you Cyrodiilic beings?"

"Y-You're just a figment of my imagination, nothing more then… then a figure composed… composed of all my memories and thoughts." The Altmer attempted to rationalize the situation.

Broga disagreed with a head shake and he moved even closer to Elizabeth so it would be his own strapping body that held her against the door. His cruel yet adoring eyes narrowed as he focused upon the misery and sadness that loomed upon the façade of the maiden. His unoccupied hand had lifted from his side and carressed a few lingering strands of silver from her face, so that he may gaze fully upon her face. "… No… that isn't how it works." His lips had smacked together and just as they had parted he had informed her rapidly, "You see, there is a certain way for us to haunt your very dreams. Your very thoughts. Your memories of Daedra are not only a collection of thoughts and past dealings. They may actually summon a part of the Dremora to every dream that we are willing to take part in. Therefore, I may be with you for the rest of your miserable little life—_or_ maybe not." He grinned merrily and rather frightening as well. His eyes had incidentally fallen to her compacted chest which just so happened to press her breasts together showing a rather pleasant amount of fresh snow skin and cleavage that hid behind the gentle silk fabric of a nightgown. Even though his head had not moved an inch, his eyes had shifted back up to the maiden's and he questioned to her, "… do you think if I were to ravage and claim your body right here that you would awaken in a mixture of your sweat and my own?"

Elizabeth's muscles had tensed in defense as she knew that he would clearly not stop if she were to plead. Her eyes had frozen with a lifeless cobalt as she stared into his awaiting eyes. Her lips had pursed and calmly she had avoided the answer at all costs, "… what are you doing here, Broga? Xilivicus had burdened my friend for a reason—now what is your excuse?"

His fingertips had twiddled a few pieces of her fine hair and his eyes had drifted to the wall as he conjured an answer. His lips had pulled to a side and as he returned his gaze to her a deviant grin coiled on his lips, "… would it be enough to say that I merely wanted to gaze into your… glorious and _captivating_ eyes, yet again?"

"… I _want_ the _truth_," was her reply.

Broga scoffed as he told her with a shake of his head, "I had feared that was what you wanted to hear."

Elizabeth's nostrils flared and she demanded hastily, "The _truth_, Broga… please."

"As you wish, my sweet." Broga had grinned while lowering Elizabeth back to the ground. The pale nubs of her toes kissed the cement and finally she stood flat footed with her eyes fastened upon Broga. The giant had straightened his back and loomed over her, having to completely tilt his head down to look at her. "Our dear sweet Xilivicus had come to your little Champion with an apology… now I come to you with an omen."

"What sort of omen?" she questioned with a wary soothing voice.

"One of charming butterflies and glorious rays of sunshine," the Dremora grinned while stepping back from Elizabeth. His now playful grin had disappeared into a cyclone of malice and annoyance as he barked, "What do you bloody _think_, Elizabeth?! You have personally humiliated myself and even my Lord. Upon the battlefield we had expected to defeat your trifling hides and yet it appears you have come out on top! Kudos, my dear, many kudos to you and all of yours. My Lord is not pleased. Not one. Bloody. Bit. This shan't be the last of me or Mehrunes Dagon. Things are beginning to happen. _Great_ things. I do believe we will meet again upon the planes of Cyrodiil."

"… Grandmaster Jaufree and Martin Septim are formulating a plan to end the Oblivion gates so you may never return to Cyrodiil." Elizabeth had snarled while rolling her petite hands into throbbing fists. "Enter onto our land again and we'll send you back begging for mercy."

Broga had rolled his eyes unimpressed soon turning to a side to glance away. Annoyance began to flow through his body each time that this Altmer had opened her mouth to speak. She was so much more charming when she kept _quiet_. "… do you really believe your feeble attempts to frighten me will keep me away from Tamriel? If so, then you might want to reconsider even entwining yourself with Martin Septim's destiny."

"What could you possibly do, Broga? You have tried many a time to beat us and yet you don't succeed. What makes you think this time will be any different, hmm?" Elizabeth questioned with a sneer.

Broga chuckled and shook his head, "… believe me, pet. This time we've done something we never would have before." Just as the Dremora was to relinquish this neverending fued, his eyes had lit up like a torch upon a winter's night. A grin had creased his lips and he stepped closer to Elizabeth as he snarled, "… must we always fight, Elizabeth? Must it always come down to a nasty exchange of words between us?"

"… yes… I do believe so." She replied warily. With every step he took forward she took back or even to a side to make certain that if he were to charge again that she would have a great chance to escape.

Broga advanced cautiously. The thick pads of his feet were gentle upon the ground as if he were uncertain that it would even be able to hold his weight. A short chuckle did he emit after he had inquired, "… you know, you never _did_ answer my question, my dear. Do you think if I were to desecrate you here, that you could distinguish my aroma in Cyrodiil?"

She didn't like the sound of his voice nor did she like that sparkle of lunacy dangling in the slits of his eyes that became apparent with each step he took closer. Together they had moved across the cobblestone steps of the courtyard like chess pieces. He, the corrupted rook, chasing after Elizabeth, the defenseless pawn. She was only tolerated to move but one space as he was able to move as many as he desired—that was, if it were within the board. Just as the Dremora neared, Elizabeth could see his rough warm grey fingertips trembling by his side. He had just dedicated all his attention to the maiden, she was sure. With one abrupt move, he would charge and force himself upon her and all she could do would be to finally succumb to his immoral desires.

"… this is a dream, isn't it?" Elizabeth questioned in a wavering voice, "… if… if desired enough I can wake myself up. Y-you'll never get the chance to harm me then—you can't win."

Broga giggled at her ignorance and he loosened his shoulders and took a few steps forward while whispering to her in a gentle voice, "Let me explain something to you, Elizabeth Asquerana." He hunched his great bulk soon leaning over to look the maiden in the eyes. He absorbed all her fear and pain and used it as strength and energy to power his own body. His face became emotionless like a wooden mask; therefore, Elizabeth could not detect anything from his voice nor his appearance. Broga had lowered his eyes to Elizabeth's heaving body for merely a moment as he thought of the words. His eyes narrowed to slits and he glanced back up to the Altmer while continuing on, "… this _isn't_ a dream, it's a nightmare. You _can't_ control whether or not you wake up. If you do—then that's perfectly fine. I love a great chase. Makes the prize all that much better in the end. To the contrary, I've got around a hundred more years of trying so I think I will succeed one day. But if you _don't_ wake up—well…" He chuckled and finally the masquerade had ended and the Dremora pulled the mask from his face revealing all sorts of mixed emotions. He grinned out of joy and even hatred. His eyes swirled with adoration, and yet, disgust. His body tensed with anxiety and also with a calming spirit. "Then I suppose you can answer my question the _next_ time we meet."

His body became a graceful black blur as he had lunged forward and tackled Elizabeth back upon the wall. She gasped for air, for the abrupt collision had forced most of the breath from her feeble lungs. Darkness overcame her and she could feel some sort of jagged pins seizing her nightgown and ripping it apart. The shrieking ripping material of her attire cried out to her and the voiced that lingered in her mind tried ever so hard to scream at her. They tried to give her the energy to escape; however, her head became a swirling pit of confusion and fear. So many bustling thoughts burdened her and she could not make out anything whatsoever. Her body became a lifeless frozen statuette as Broga's sick twisted joke did not seem all that fake. Her eyes were wide as she watched as her pale fragile skin began to show even more. With Broga's black hands upon her body, it had made her look even more pale. Or possibly it had made the Dremora look darker then ever before. He moved hurriedly with one hand planted against the frozen limestone wall as and anchor, the other one groping Elizabeth body. Broga's eyes burned ever so brightly upon this night. He now seemed utterly determined—something that hadn't happened to him in a very long time.

Time began to slip away from Elizabeth like a blur and her weakening body was overcome with a forceful pain and ounces of pleasure. Her skin was ripped to shreds and fresh blood poured down the sides of her body causing her exposed nerves to burn like a raging inferno. Her screams echoed out into the dead silence soon piercing the heavens and breaking through the walls of such a horrid nightmare.

-+-

"… No… please, stop! Sto-op… no… plea-ea-ease.. Leave me _alone_!" Her vibrant voice shattered through the walls of her room as she thrashed wildly across the surface of her mattress. Her fingertips dug harshly into the fabric of the divan as horrid flashes burned scars into her mind. Painful tears escaped through her fluttering eyelids soon staining her cheeks as she sobbed heavily.

Her body became entwined with her sheets which constricted her causing her to roll helpless against the mattress. Her face buried into it as she muffled her screams. Pins were forced through the pores of her flesh and with each throbbing pain that she had felt it had convinced her even more that this was another form of reality and her Hero would not come riding in upon a noble white steed. The shadows of the room had worked against her as they became her hidden chains and bondages that blinded her and kept her away from the true reality that lingered outside the walls of her nightmare.

Abruptly, the sliding door to Elizabeth's room had been forced back. The edge of the frame had knocked harshly against the side of the wall and two figures shifted into the room hurriedly for they had heard her desperate moans from the main temple. Her brother had ushered himself into the room for his heart had pounded like a raging thunderstorm beneath his chest in fear that something awful had happened to his sister. He stood there, petrified, at her threshold with his glistening amber eyes fastened upon her seizing body. His ears ached with each shrill howl she gave off. What was there that he couldn't see? Were the spirits of the deceased Daedra avenging their deaths sevenfold? What was he to do? His mind had emptied of everything as he merely watched her.

When the Hero had entered; however, he had immediately fell by her bedside and unwrapped her from her constricting cocoon. His misty dark eyes shifting across her body as he yelled for her to wake up. Just as he had finished unwrapping such a delicate figure, she had lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, the shadows that binded her had drifted away into the darkness like sinful slithering snakes. Elizabeth's eyes had ripped open and she sobbed heavily while clutching onto the Hero. The smell of firewood lingered upon his tunic which had seized the girl's attention and tore her from the dreadul nightmare that had fallen upon her slumbering head. Her nerves were sawed into pieces and her heart was left for dead after the encounter with the demonic onyx monster who haunted her every thought and dream. Her entire body quaked with fear and hatred as she sobbed loudly and demanded through gnashed teeth, "Don't leave—don't leave me here! Please.. d-don't… he'll… he'll come back—I know he will!" She whimpered hurridely while seizing onto the man's back.

He cradeled her in his arms with a furrowed brow as he soothed her with his gentle words, "We won't leave you here alone, I promise. It's going to be ok, Elizabeth. I'm here now." He formed his spread fingers over the back of her head holding her tightly to him hoping this would calm her shattered senses. He hushed her as she cried heavily onto his tunic choking down a few dampened sobs. With a wary glance, the knight had tossed his eyes up to Daelon. His lips had pursed and he looked upon the Altmer with desperation and his look had clearly questioned: _What happened to her_?

Of course, Daelon hadn't known the origin of such misery; however, he knew that his sister had never waken from her sleep before in such a vivid and frightened manner. What ever happened to her in the nightmare that had overcome her like a fatal illness had seemed to plague her mind with so much fear that it may have killed her. _How can I help, Elizabeth?_ Daelon's hidden voice had echoed out into the room that only he had heard. He watched her feeble pale body embrace the Hero's torso desperately. _How can I help you fight an enemy that I cannot see?_

The three adults all closed their eyes as their own problems and worries began to pervert their minds to the darkness causing them to fall into the darkest of voids which would not relinquish their forgotten and useless hope until this entire Oblivion crisis was over. Through the floorboards near the bruised mattress a darkened shadow of Elizabeth's nightmare did seep through the thin cracks soon disappearing as if it were never there to begin with. It left the trio sitting in their sorrows as they all questioned themselves:

_… why me? _

**_

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_****_The chapter was going to be even longer with a descriptive rape scene in, but when I looked back at it I really didn't want to let people read it. It seemed really... adult... for this fanfiction so I just saved it in another file so I could write more to it later. By the way, in case you haven't noticed I like Broga and Elizabeth together. Anyways, READ AND REVIEW! _**


	28. The Oppurtunity

**_Ok it's not really long like the last one... but I think the next one might. I had the hardest of times writing this stupid chapter, hehe... I just didn't know which way I should take it after the last chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! _**

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-+-

From the depths of the Temple, Jerald had called to his son. Daelon's head had pivoted and his ears had perked as he heard his name being beckoned. Quickly he had returned his gaze to the lifeless form of his sister and the Hero. A grimace had become of his face as he could clearly see that he was not needed here. He could no longer help his sister—that would be the knight's ambition now, just as it was Xilivicus'. "... My father is calling me... will you two be alright?"

The Hero had tossed his gaze up with a nod. His arms had wrapped tightly around the maiden who sobbed gently into his chest as the memory of Broga now became scorched into the walls of her mind. Her chest heaved suddenly every once and a while as she was struck by those two piercing lustful eyes. Her own eyes clenched close as she attempted to shove the very thought of him from her; alas, it was futile. Just as Daelon had departed from the warmth of the room and closed the sliding door, the Hero had pulled back his head as he endeavored to look upon Elizabeth's face. His dense dark eyebrows fell over his shimmering woodland eyes as his soothing voice had called out to her, "... Elizabeth... I need you to tell me what happened."

Her nose had shifted a few times as she had sniffled a few sobs. Her head had drooped down as she leaned back and attempted to form the scenario into words. A trembling hand had lifted to wipe away freshly fallen tears. Her eyes were now red from all the sobbing she had done as she weakly answered his demand, "... I... I dreamed o-of Broga." Her eyes lifted and she could already see the malice swirling within her friend's eyes. "You... you had a dream o-of Xilivicus and... h-h-he told you things... w-which you couldn't imagine, right?" She seemed so desperate, the Hero had thought as he had replied with a head nod. "Broga... he... he came to me in my dream. He told me... this wasn't the l-last of Dagon. That he... he would return. I don't know how they could r-return with... with us so _close_ to victory. A-after that... he..." her eyes became misty and they had clenched shut as she could not repress a frightened sob. Her head had lowered in embarrassment and she shoved her head into the man's chest as she gripped tightly at his tunic; frantic.

The Hero embraced her yet again in a way to calm her tattered senses and her fleeting cries. His eyes had narrowed as he looked upon such a beautiful disaster. _What had he done to you, Elizabeth?_ He questioned himself as he opened his parched lips and uttered, "... I need you to tell me what happened."

"... He _raped_... me." Her head lifted and she looked at the Hero with such a great amount of fear. Her body was trembling all over as she could practically feel his strapping warm body pressed against hers. She could still feel his deep burgundy tongue run against the smooth porcelain curve of her neck. His fingertips still seizing her hips and fondling her bare body. "He _raped_ me," she repeated miserably, "It felt so real—I...I could feel the pain and the heat. I could hear my heart crying out for myself to wake up, but I didn't. I... I only could lie there..." her eyes became misty again as she snarled, "I could only _let_ that bastard have his way with me."

He suppressed the burning fits of anger that were blossoming on the dark side of his heart for now was not the time. He needed to show this Altmer maiden how much he cared and how much he had wanted to right the situation. His lips had pursed and he held the maiden even tighter in his arms. He could feel her fluttering heart beat out into his chest as their bodies were constricted together. He buried his face in her bare shoulder soon breathing his warm breath out upon her skin. Even though this action reminded Elizabeth of her nightmare, she could not help but to feel comforted by him. He became her guardian more and more with each passing moment that they were together. He guided her from the darkness and led her into the light so she was able to see that the world could offer so much more then just sadness. The maiden's fingertips loosened upon the fabric of his tunic and softly she began to caress his back. His back lifted and fell with each breath he took and gave off. His coiled golden hair held an aroma of wildflowers. Elizabeth had always loved this smell. Her eyes fluttered closed and for once in such a while it had appeared that her heart had been calmed. Her breaths gradually slowed and became serene. Her pouted pinked lips gave off a choppy profound sigh as she could feel all the worries begin to slip from her like heat in a wintry storm. Just as Elizabeth had thought this storm of inequities had subsided, she heard the Hero croak, "... I'll be leaving tonight to find Mankar Camoran."

Elizabeth's heart had been struck by the arrow of truth and her eyes had widened. Her breath became shifting and she pulled away from the man's embrace with a softened glare. Her head had shook frantically and she wheezed, "W-what?"

The Hero had lowered his shamed gaze as he knew that moment before now he had told her that he wouldn't leave. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he told Elizabeth while lifting his gaze ever so slightly, "We need to get the Amulet of Kings back before Mehrunes can strike again. It's the only way to stop this anarchy and restore Cyrodiil to the land it was before."

"...w...why you?" she questioned while tilting her head considerably to a side. Confusion had run across her mind as she began to think of all the capable Blades that lingered within these ancient halls. Did they not have the experience to accomplish such a task?

The Hero had smiled dimly as he had formulated an answer in his mind that had stroked his ego quite a bit. "Elizabeth, I am the strongest and fastest Blade. Possibly not the smartest, but I digress. Martin and Jaufree need me to do this. I am willing to give them my life if needed be. Anything for Cyrodiil to at last live in peace... anything for _you_ to live in peace."

If not for the confusion that had hindered her emotions from being expressed, she would surely brandish a cherry blush upon her cheeks. With a calming voice she had inquired of him, "Can I not come with you?"

"This will be a journey I must take alone. I could not stomach the thought of my actions leading to you or one of your brothers getting hurt... not again." The Hero had told her truthfully as he had placed his hands upon her own.

Elizabeth shook her head with a creased brow. How could she possibly alter his mind upon this very delicate matter? The fate of Cyrodiil now lay within his hands as it had before. She was grateful that she knew the man behind the armor and shield. She was indebted to the man who saved her from Oblivion and swore to protect her even through the period where they did not care for one another. Her fingertips wrapped around his hands and she held his hands tightly in her own. They emitted a comforting warmth that she hadn't felt in such a long time. Her eyes lifted to his and she heaved a profound and burdensome sigh as she told him her opinion on the matter, "Two warriors are better then one, my friend. Please, you must reconsider and take someone with you! You may not stomach the thought of us being hurt, but I can hardly imagine the scenario where you might indeed die."

"I won't die," he told her stubbornly.

"What if you do?" She urged while gripping his hands tighter, "... I worry."

"Worry for what?" He asked with a friendly chuckle. His head had bowed as he contemplated for a moment. He wished to seize the right words that might soothe her senses and allow him to walk into Paradise without having to fret about the wellbeing of his Altmer friend. "This is the part where you should tell me the Gods will be on my side, so they'll see me through and bring me back with the Amulet of Kings so we may reunite the heir with his destiny."

"Oh... how I wish it were that simple," she had moaned while leaning back. Her shimmering eyes were cast upon the floor. Her stomach became entangled and she knew not if she would be safe during his departure.

The Hero withdrew his hands from the maiden's and quickly he had placed his fingertips upon her sallow yet rosy cheeks. He could feel the warmth that had lingered there from the fit she had earlier. As he turned her face to his she inclined toward him to heed his words. A gentle smile caressed over his face and he shook his head allowing some coiling golden locks to fall across his sun kissed brow. His shoulders shrugged as he spoke, "I _vow_ to you, Elizabeth... I won't leave you here. I won't allow myself to let you live without a guardian—without someone who will... will look after you and... and take care of you. Now that is the least I can do for the pain I have caused you in the past. You must let me go for a day so I might spend the rest protecting and serving you." He laughed and cocked his head as he sheltered a dashing grin, "Afterall, you _are_ the potential Countess of Kvatch, and we all know that Countesses and Counts need the most protection overall."

"What about Martin?" Elizabeth had asked with a furrowed brow. "You swore to protect him."

"And so I shall," He told her with a nod of agreement. "I shall personally guide him down the streets of the Imperial City to light the Dragonfires, but after that moment my loyalty belongs to you. I am sure Martin would surrender me to a greater cause. No offense, but you aren't the greatest fighter."

Elizabeth laughed jovially which soon turned her eyes into crescent moons. _That's what you think, is it?_ She giggled in her mind as she thought of herself fighting the greatly renowned Black Daedra Commander, Broga, and she still lived. The Hero laughed with her and as she listened to him laugh she felt her heart flutter in her chest. He was a blessing to have around for within a few moments he had soothed her senses and for a trice she had forgotten the sorrows which burdened her so. "So, you think that you're the liable candidate that shall protect me from all harm?"

"I know so," he had confidently told her while posing a Heroic face which only made Elizabeth giggle. Her head pushing down against his hands.

"Then, good sir, do tell me what you should do if I was attacked," she cooed while propping up an eyebrow.

He thought for a moment about the question while withdrawing his hands from her face. He arched his back and leaned back soon heaving a relaxed sigh. He inclined yet again and told her uncomplicatedly, "I would give my life for yours."

Silence had become of them as a smile blossomed upon the maiden's heart-shaped lips. Her brow rose and she asked him gently, "... truly or... are you merely saying that to please me?"

"Truthfully, milady," he had told her while nodding his head and closing his eyes for a mere moment. His lips had pursed and as he opened his lips he looked upon her and told him with a gentle smile, "The world would be better off with losing just some guard then a cultured and charming Countess."

Silence befell them again and they merely stared at one another. A mixture of woodland brown and ocean blue ran together in one swirling tide. A smile blossomed upon both of their facades as they purely enjoyed the silence together. Just as the Hero began to think of such a wonderful moment, his mind became invaded with those piercing tangerine eyes. His skin nearly crawled from the bone as he could feel the hatred passing from the afterlife and striking him down. Elizabeth was _still_ and would always be Xilivicus'. If would be foolish to think she would want any part of him after what he had done. Suddenly, those tangerine eyes turned to darkness and the Hero sheltered a frown as he asked peacefully, "... why haven't you told your family about Xilivicus?"

The question had stunned the maiden for she surely had not seen that coming from him. How did he even know about her keeping the fate of her lover a secret? Her head had lowered and she surely knew that no more tears who be shed for her lost guardian. Now was not the time. When she had lifted her eyes she said, "... my father hated him. My brothers avoided the mere thought him, I am sure. They wouldn't care to know of his death."

Two thick eyebrows fell over the Hero's lovely woodland eyes as he looked upon the maiden with sorrow. He knew that Daelon had cared for him, but it was true that Jerald had hated Xilivicus and would more and likely rejoice in his passing. The Hero's firm strong hands fell over the maiden's and he had whispered into the dimness, "... I am sorry."

"Don't be," Elizabeth had smiled weakly while tossing her serene gaze upon him. "The past is past; let us focus upon the now and the soon-to-be future."

"Your mercy astounds me," he scoffed while shaking his head. "I don't think I could ever forgive anyone if they took..." he trailed off in his words and turned his head away in absurdity. He bit callously into his tongue and within his mind he had battered away at himself.

Elizabeth's gaze remained serene; nevertheless, her brow did curve upward as she heard this. She turned her eyes to their hands and then urged him on, "If they took who?"

The Hero laughed weakly and shook his head as he told her truthfully yet forlornly, "How can they take someone away from me when I have no one?" His eyes were casted downwards as he could feel his heart ache in that fact.

"If it is any constellation," Elizabeth had said with a petite sigh as she withdrew a hand and propped it under his firm square jaw. She turned his head up and told him, "You will always have me. It's not much, I know, but at least it's something, right?"

"That means a lot, Elizabeth, it really does." His mind was impatient as he looked upon that beautiful smiling face. _Kiss her, go on then!_ He heard himself snarl in his ear, _why else do you think she said that? She's lonely, go comfort her!_

_**I'd be comforting her for the wrong reasons, **_he had told that voice rather foolishly. He needed to push the thought from his head. Xilivicus was a sparkling diamond in the eyes of the Altmer; he would only be a speck of rubble compared to the Dremora's brilliance. _You're missing the opportunity to be what she needs! _

_**That's an opportunity I never had... could you possibly just piss off? **_He had asked the voice within. His eyes shifted back and forth between the maiden's and he could only force that smiling mask upon his face that he had held in moments like this when he knew the chances of ever becoming anything to Elizabeth Asquerana were slim to none. _I understand... you're waiting for the right moment._

He ignored that voice once he heard the sliding door fall back and the heavy booted footsteps of the Grandmaster. The Hero cocked his head and quickly withdrew his hands from the maiden's, directing all his attention to Jaufree. The old man grinned as he saw the young couple sitting close upon the divan. With a nod of his head, the Blades Master had spoke out with his raspy voice, "... It's time, my friend."

The Hero frowned and quickly nodded. With each moment he delayed this event, it had strummed one of his nerves and made him even more anxious. The man lowered his head and then asked of the Grandmaster Blade, "... could I possibly have a moment with Elizabeth before I leave?"

"Of course," Jaufree permitted him with his gloved hand still lingering in the handle. "Get suited up and come down when you're done. Martin and I will be waiting for you in the Temple."

The Hero nodded his head and turned his eyes back to the Altmer. His ears perked when he had heard the sliding door close and yet again they were left alone. His hands clenched together and then relaxed as he endeavored to get himself prepared to hold his silver sword once again and trudge into a realm that he had never been to. He swallowed a lump in his throat and said deeply, "... I guess I shall see you again when I return."

"I suppose," said she with a weak smile.

"Will you and your family still be at Cloud Ruler Temple, or... are you leaving for Anvil?" His eyes were desperate as he looked upon her.

"My father hasn't said anything, I am certain he would like to contribute to these events as much as he can. I'm sure this is a dream of his to personally help the heir to the Septim throne." Elizabeth laughed as she gave a glance to the door.

_The right moment,_ the voice cooed. The Hero could feel himself lean forward and as an excuse he had quickly leapt to his feet and coughed, "... If... if it's not much to ask I would like you to help me get suited in my armor. The damn cuirass... it's like trying to wear a house." He laughed weakly.

Elizabeth rose to her feet allowing her elongated silver tresses to fall across the front of her dress. A grin beamed up at him and she said, "I would be honored to help."

The Hero became hindered as he thought of something to say. Something that might calm her mind... or possibly something that might be a wonderful phrase for his grave if he didn't make it out of Paradise. Ironic name for the place, isn't it? "... Elizabeth," the word fell over his tongue and flopped to the floor like a lifeless fish.

The Altmer's long curved ears perked and she raised her brow in response as if awaiting his words. The Hero watched her with a grave façade and quickly he had rushed forward and enveloped her in his embrace. His lips fell upon hers and he kissed her so deeply and lovingly.

... _Now why can't you act upon that daydream?_ His voice had snarled in his ear as he still merely stood before the Altmer maiden like a thoughtless lunatic. He shook the thought from his head and smiled weakly, "... I... I..." the words became sour and his stomach had not spat them out. His lips remained parted and his brow furrowed as he saw the reality. He turned to the door and bleakly said, "... I think we've let Martin wait long enough."

Elizabeth nodded and walked to the door and opened it. The Hero lingered for a moment with a saddened gaze and then soon he had followed the Altmer out of the room and down into living quarters where she would suit him up.

-+-

It had taken Elizabeth only moments to help the Hero suit up. He had gotten the steel greaves and boots on rather easily. The only trouble he had was with the cuirass. True to his words, it was rather heavy. The maiden attempted to lift it; however, it appeared as a boulder and she had nearly strained herself trying. The Hero hoisted it up simply; his muscles bulged underneath a layer of sun kissed flesh. Perspiration already burdened his brow. Elizabeth had directed it over his head and when it had been finally put on she had situated it. Just as they were to walk out of the quarters, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the dullness of the once refined steel armor. The Hero heaved a groan as Elizabeth insisted that she polished his armor before he left. She had got a tattered taupe rag that had been used to shine other armor around the living area and with some grease she had began polishing the cuirass. The aroma from the oil had lifted and singed the Hero's nose forcing him to turn his head up and stare at a cobweb which had been strung to a rafter in the ceiling. His eyes narrowed and he could think not of what to say to shatter this awkward silence.

The steel began to shine and with each shimmer it reminded Elizabeth of the day that he had come to rescue her. She had almost forgotten what a human had looked like since she was surrounded by so many Daedra. Her eyes had narrowed and she worked around his shoulders moving a little closer. Her soothing melodic voice shattered the silence at last, "... are you afraid?"

He finally realized she was asking him and he looked down to her. Her face was inches from his as she leaned in to polish between the crevices of his shoulder plates. He blinked rapidly and replied in almost a sputter, "... I... I do not fear for my life."

"Why not?" Her eyes narrowed and she moved around his bulk to polish his back.

The Hero's calm woodland eyes fell to the dusty floor as he had contemplated the answer. Why hadn't he felt fear creeping in through the cracks of his soul? His brow creased and he retorted softly hoping the words would find their way behind him and to the maiden's ears, "... I... don't know why. Ever since I can remember I have never truly feared. I have been shocked in moments, indeed, but I never feel fear in my heart."

Elizabeth finished and lowered her gaze considerably. Never being able to fear sounded like a great reprieve from her worried mind. Her fingertips lingered upon his slick armor as she began ponder the mere thought of having no fear. Was it even possible to the human mind? "... You fear nothing—nothing at all?"

_That's a lie_. His voice snapped into his ear. _That's a lie and you know it. _He hushed that voice by ignoring it completely. He feared _nothing_. That was what he believed and there would be nothing to change his mind—period. His eyes narrowed and with a head nod he had expressed his answer. Elizabeth laughed gently as she looked at him amazed. Her hands fell to her side and she told him, "You must be very courageous and brave under the armor, then. You have the heart of a _true_ hero!"

_True heroes fear... true heroes don't lie._ That voice chimed again in his ear. _True heroes don't _murder.

"Yeah," he chuckled weakly while turning to the temple door. "I... I guess I'm a true hero then, aren't I?"

"I think so," Elizabeth had told him with a nod. "You have saved so many lives by putting yours in jeopardy, you have closed Oblivion gates all over Cyrodiil single-handedly, and not to mention you have sought after the heir to the Septim throne and saved him from death. If that does not make you a true hero then I do not know what will."

The Hero's lips became parched as he walked to the temple door. He hoisted it open and stood back allowing Elizabeth to go first. She thanked him with a beautiful beaming smile and a head nod. He quickly entered after her to see Martin Septim standing in the center of a great crimson diagram that had been mapped out on the floor. His eyes lingered there for a moment or two before returning to Martin. He heaved a profound sigh as he stepped forward to speak with Martin. Behind him, standing around the tables and pillars stood a few faithful blades and most of the Asquerana family, Orrick still would not leave the comfort and solitude of the training area.

Martin's eyes were desperate as he walked up to the Hero and told him with his soothing rich voice, "... I have found a way to open a portal so you might travel to Paradise and retrieve the Amulet of Kings. The portal is only temporary; however, and will vanish once you travel through." The heir had placed a comforting hand upon the man's shoulder plate as he had asked him, "... are you ready to go through, my friend?"

The Hero nodded solemnly with his distant eyes upon Martin. The heir had turned around and at two points of his diagram he had placed the Great Sigil stone which pulsed a deep sinister crimson. At the other end he had placed the Great Welkynd stone which emitted a pure and serene blue haze. As Martin had done the incantation to open the portal, the Hero had tossed a glimpse over his shoulder to see Elizabeth. He felt his heart beginning to shred to pieces. He wanted ever so much just to... embrace her... like he had back in her quarters. When she grasped at him in desperation. She needed him back there. Could she not tell that he needed her now?

A blazing portal had been summoned forth and a warming sensation swept over the Hero's body which forced him to turn his gaze forward. Martin stood by its side with saddened eyes. No one had been into Paradise; therefore, no one could warn him of the dangers ahead. The Hero stepped to the portal and just as he was to slide within its fiery embrace—

_You fear nothing—nothing at all? _

He stopped.

His body had tensed as he knew the true answer to that. That answer could only be expressed now. He did not know if he would escape death's grasp this time or if he would be claimed for eternity. He pivoted and walked away from the portal which caused Martin to stand there speechless. The heir had almost chased after him, but he saw where he was going and allowed the Hero to leave. The portal was stable enough to wait, so would the heir then.

The Hero walked with haste and a burdened tensed posture as he slid between Daelon and Jerald who watched him warily. Elizabeth furrowed her brow and looked up to the Hero and questioned with a hushed whisper, "... what's-"

His hands lifted to her cheeks and a kiss of metal ran across her skin which caused chills to roll down her spine. Her eyes lifted to the Hero's and before she could muster another phrase, the man had lowered his head and pressed his lips firmly upon hers. His brow furrowed and for a second he had allowed the sorrows and frustration to seep through his grinning façade. Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered closed as she melted within his hands feeling like she wasn't here. She felt like she was back in Kvatch. She felt like this war had never happened and the many sorrows that had gathered within her had vanished in the breeze. The Hero slowly pulled away from her lips and mustered a few words that only the Altmer could hear. Jerald and Daelon stood there astonished with their ears perked to hear what the man was saying; alas, it was futile for them to even try.

Elizabeth's eyes became misty and she looked back and forth between his eyes with a weak smile pulling across her blushing face. She seemed to be attracted to his touch for she only had moved closer as he had caressed her cheeks and felt the warmth that they emitted. His heart did not release that sadness that he had sheltered. He felt like tearing his heart out for how bad it had ached him. His forehead leaned against hers for a moment as he had finished whispering to her. His hands had withdrawn from her face and he stepped back knowing it was time to leave her.

Elizabeth's body had leaned forward as he retreated. Her brow furrowed and she watched as the silhouette of her hero had loomed over her and finally turned and sauntered into the portal. A flash had erupted from the portal which blinded the maiden. Her hands had lifted and covered her eyes, but she wasn't fast enough to stop the searing pain from burning her eyes. When she had finally got back her sight she tore her hand from her eyes and looked forward to see scorch marks upon the limestone ground.

The portal was gone.

Her _hero_ was gone.

Her eyes searched rapidly around the room as though she thought it was a mere joke— a silly illusion that Martin had set up. Regrettably, it was not. The Blades had cleared the room and so did Jaufree and the heir who could only wait for the return of the Hero. The only people who were left were the Asqueranas. Jerald gave his daughter a wary glance as the thought of early had once again plagued his mind. He kept his frozen eyes upon her as Daelon had asked her in a wheezing voice, "... what... what did he tell you?"

Elizabeth's eyes were frozen in the air as if the Hero was still standing before her. Her petite pasty fingertips had lifted and pressed against her supple pouted lips as if the kiss still lingered there. The memory became engraved in her mind and finally Daelon's question had broken through the barricade and was sung into her ears. Her head lifted and she looked at her brother with a distant look. Her voice was plain as she had told him, "... he... merely told me goodbye."

Jerald narrowed his eyes and finally slipped away back to his studies, Daelon had done the same. Elizabeth's head turned back to the living quarter's door and silently she had glided over and slipped inside. She drifted up the stairs and upon the way she could hear the echoes of the Hero's soothing wavering voice, "... I do fear, Elizabeth, I truly do..." Her hand had grabbed the handle of the door and slowly she had pushed it open as she allowed the words to wash over her like a tide being thrown in the ocean's grasp. "... The thing I fear the most..." She sauntered into the room and closed the door behind her. The silence had escaped from the room and she was left with those words which repeated themselves like a resonance across a cavern wall. "... Is failing to be your guardian... and in the end losing you."

She moved over to her bed and laid down upon it. Her form sank into the pleasing mounds of down and as she closed her eyes she spoke to herself;

_... You sound just like him. _A few innocent tears slipped between her eyelashes as she attempted to rest. _... Why should I attempt to conjure him... when he's living inside of _you

A trembling smile pulled across her lips and she opened her eyes and laughed gently, "... Mara... how devious you are." With that, she had succumbed to her weariness and allowed slumber to overcome her. Her heart ticked like a clock; awaiting the return of her Hero, until then. She would dream—and this time she would not be burdened with the memory of Broga.

... But the memory of another.

_**--TBC--**_

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_**Alright then... for everyone who DOESN'T like the Hero.. I'm sure you didn't like this chapter much. Unless you rejoiced in his sadness. I have decided that I won't do a sequel. I'll leave you with just one written work of mine that has an ending... that more and likely you will be happy-- but you will be sad as well. Please READ and REVIEW, my darlings! Have a wonderful week! ****  
**_


	29. My Sister's Keeper: The Hero's Return

**_Sorry I've been gone for so long. I've been on vacation and well... I had no idea how to take this next chapter. It might seem like more of a filler or... whatever. But I just really needed this chapter to connect the previous story to the next chapter of events which would be getting Elizabeth the Hero and Daelon to the Imperial City with the Amulet of Kings. Well, I hope you enjoy. You better write a review. It took me long enough to write this chapter so, 'grrrr'_**

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"Pathetic sac of pus," Dagon's voice had boomed from the depths of his stomach. His blackened claws gripped at the limestone armrests as he looked upon the betrayer. "I give you a task," he waved his hand towards the guards. "... a simple task... and even with all my armies at your feet you could not accomplish it?!" 

They caught glimpse of his gesture and together they raised their war hammers, whose sinister spines twisted wickedly, into the air waiting for the blow. They were finally swung down and together they collided with the back of the betrayer. The bruised and bloodied body had toppled forward and rolled across the darkened filthy granite floor. The darkness had encased the criminal, no matter; the Council knew precisely who it was. With each swing of the hammer the council members cringed. They heard the distinct and bloodcurdling snap of bones and the shrieking tear of skin. The beaten man's body was just a rag doll tossed carelessly around for the amusement of Mehrunes Dagon. As the beaten man forced himself up onto the base of his palms, the guards had proceeded and together they had lifted their hammers and forced them down upon their brethren's back. The man was brutally forced back upon the ground with a yelp of sheer pain pulsing through his shatter bones. The Daedric Prince lifted his hand and called off the guards for he wished not to kill his leading Commander so easily. "...Commander Broga, what say you to such a heinous defeat at the city of Bruma?"

The Commander lifted his heavy head as he heard his name beckoned by his Lord. Thick droplets of sinful blood rolled over his blackened lips as he hardly the strength to speak. His arms trembled as he pushed himself up and pleaded, "Sire," he spat a glob of blood which coated his jagged teeth and had merely made them invisible, "There was nothing I... I could _do_. The armies had failed... most and nearly all of the Daedra had been killed! We've... we've been underestimating the opponent, my Prince. Their Champion... he must be i-inhuman! We've tried again and again, milord! He's nearly indestructible!"

Dagon had rolled his eyes in annoyance soon glancing away. He hadn't mind if his temper had gotten out of control and his devoted worshippers would perish in his rage. He could always fashion himself new ones who were more physically able then these lot of rubbish. His jagged dark hand lifted to his chin and he propped his head up as he thought to himself. He finally turned back to his Commander and while motioning towards him, the Prince had demanded ruthlessly, "Fetch me the scholar... we shall see what she has to tell us about this so called 'indestructible' Champion."

"I... I'm afraid I can't do that, sire," Broga had whispered out dejectedly while bowing his head in shame. So much pain had overwhelmed him like a furious tide tossed within the eyes of a hurricane. His eyes clenched closed as he prepared himself for these next words and the beatings that would follow them, "... she had escaped with the Hero."

Dagon's black eyes gave off a spark of malice and hastily he had lifted his hand and motioned for his guards. This time, he would not pity the useless and failing Commander. The guards came forth with their hammers thirsting for another taste of the Daedric man's darkened blood. He was beaten mercilessly, his blood slithering through the cracks of limestone staining it forevermore. His bones became distorted with every blow and no longer had he appeared a willed and physically built Commander, but a fragile and shattered onyx vase. Mehrunes had placed his claws over the armrests as he watched these events unfold. His main Commander had failed his prime mission. This would be the beginning of a series of hellish days to come for Broga. His agonizing screams echoed out into the council chambers. Many a Dremora had turned their eyes away after some time for they could not stomach such a merciless beating. Bones jutting from the skin and finally the Dremora had collapsed lifelessly to the floor. His raspy breathing was choked down by blood that slipped down his throat. He coughed and let his weary eyelids fall over his now serene crimson eyes. _I shall sleep but for a moment... and maybe in that moment_- his eyelids had closed and his last glimpse was that of Dagon calling off his guards. _It shall be Elizabeth who haunts my dreams_. His fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pain became so unbearable that it had forced him unconscious. He lay upon a blanket of crimson waiting for that angel of dreams to descend upon him and take away all his sorrows and burdens. She had saved his life back in that plane of Oblivion... if only she were here to save his life now.

"Take _him_ to dungeons. Maybe the next time I send him off to Tamriel he shan't fail me," Mehrunes façade became a fiery blur in the faltering eyes of Broga. He had finally cascaded into sleep hearing only one last phrase from his master, "... for the sake of his immortal life... he better not fail me."

-+-

Hours had passed by like birds soaring through clear skies, and soon and rather lively Elizabeth had opened her eyelids while lying upon her bed. Her head nestled within a blanket of silver. When her eyes had opened, they seemed rather hazy in the dimness that had befallen her room. She dreamed of _him_ again. Her body had formed over his as he cradled her lovingly in his arms. Together they had rested beneath a flourishing tree upon a hilltop in Cyrodiil. The rushing wind was kind to their faces giving them a bustling cool sensation that went well with the warming rays of sunlight that shattered through the treetops and fell upon them like shards of gold. Strands of his fiery hair had fallen and cascaded into her face. Her eyes slowly opened and she saw the dark royal purple skin that she had learned to absolutely adore. Her fingertips brushed across its surface and faintly she could feel the heartbeat of the man. Her head rested across his chest allowing the sound of his innocent heart thump into her ear. She grinned and pulled her head up soon looking upon his face. He looked serene and gentle compared to what he usually had. His eyelids cracked open and his tangerine eyes fell upon Elizabeth with a shimmering admiration. His lips had pulled upward and he shifted his head soon looking her in the eyes. His brow had furrowed and he purred, "... good morning."

She sheltered a gentle laugh and her head had leaned up and she kissed his soft violet lips feeling all the warmth inside his body rush within hers. It felt so _good_ to be in that dream that she never wished to wake up. Reality was a golden garden and this dream became the weeds that strangled the plants making them wither. Xilivicus raised his hand and lightly had he placed his fingertips upon her round cheek. They slid back across her face and ran through her lengthy tresses. His eyes shifted between hers and he looked so... happy.

As Elizabeth reflected more upon this dream, she could feel an aching throb rush through her heart. Her eyes had fallen closed and she continued to tell herself, _He is dead, Elizabeth, you have to let him go._ Just as she was to rise from the bed, her nerves had been bitten in her lower abdomen. A hand had flown down and seized the pain and her brow had furrowed. Before she even had time to think of why this might have been she felt a sickening contraction in her throat. Her mind now fell deeper into her head as it became a warning of sickness. She clenched her lips together and heaved a sigh trying to calm this sudden illness. She gave it a few moments to subside; however, nothing had changed. Her stomach continued to wage a war within her and she could feel her entire throat contract. Gradually, she had risen from her bed and stumbled to the door. _It'll go away... all these emotions are just really getting to you. _She had told herself as she moved a little faster down the stairs that led to the living area.

Her lips became sealed in fear that if they parted a sickening bile would escape them mixed with whatever else she could have eaten in the prior hours. Her arms wrapped around her body attempting to protect it from harm as she went. When she entered into the main temple, the maiden saw hardly no one for it had seemed that everyone was off doing their own things. Jerald was possibly getting things situated for their travel back to Anvil. Daelon was more and likely honing his swordsmanship in case he had encountered Broga again. This time he would not lose.

Elizabeth slid across the heated marble floor with a shaky wobble for her stomach began to ache her and vivid embarrassed images came to her head making her ache all the more. Her eyes were cast to the fire and as she looked within the promiscuous dancing flames she couldn't help but to be seduced. Her crystal eyes were drawn to this inferno and she couldn't break herself, she felt like a moth drawn to a candle. Images of Oblivion began to liter her head as she let these flames embrace her mind and smolder her nerves which were once in contact. The fire had burned her soul.

Just as Broga's eyes used to.

Just as Xilivicus' harsh voice used to.

Just as Oblivion used to.

Had it been awkward if it had happened that the thing she feared the most also was the thing she adored the most? Oblivion both frightened her and intrigued her. She was drawn to it and she would never escape its embrace. She was bound to it by chains now. She had played with the fire and now she had been burned.

But here she was... alive. She was now experienced and renowned. She had walked through Hell's fire and she was healthy.

Her stomach lurched in her stomach and she had nearly fallen off her feet in pain. Possibly... she wasn't healthy. Her eyes clenched shut and gradually she had made her way over to a seat. When she had sat herself her eyes were tossed down to her stomach where the pain had settled like a sparrow making its nest in the crook of a tree. Her brow furrowed and she pondered the thought of a nurse. She had been exposed to so many elements in the last week or so—certainly something had polluted her lungs or something much worse.

Immediately, she could see Xilivicus' handsome face. The knots in her stomach doubled and so much worry became of her as she pondered the thought: Could she be pregnant? Certainly not, that was outrageous. She was ever so sure that Daedra could not reproduce sexually. That worry which burdened her mind had warily settled down ever so slowly until she thought, _but he wasn't a Dremora at the time..._

The worry flew off its feet in a wild rage causing her stomach to churn. She couldn't bear his child. The mere thought could bring tears to her eyes; a baby of a Daedra and Altmer? The babe would be a pariah upon its own people if they were to find out where the infant had come from. Elizabeth's hand had lifted to her lips as she silenced the moans from her stomach which had crawled up her throat and escaped her parched lips. For now she would only listen to the rational voices of her head. She could always pass the child as the Hero's if it had come down to it. He had sworn to protect her and this would be the exact way he could express his devotion.

... But he would have to bear watching a child grow into the very image of the man he had murdered.

Would not the memory haunt him until his death? An irreconcilable chill rolled across her bones and she swore that the spirit of her deceased lover attempted to soothe her. She thanked him within her mind and quickly shed the thought from herself. Her hands folded across her lap and she continued to focus her gaze upon the flames. They, too, soothed her. Elizabeth fell into a world of her own allowing all the burdens of this world melt like wax and drip into the abyss. Just as she had nearly left the world behind her, she felt smooth fingertips press against her shoulder. Her eyes refocused and her head pivoted around to see Daelon standing behind her with a distraught look painted across his sun kissed façade. The maiden's brow had furrowed as she had situated herself all the more to her side to look upon him. Her parched lips finally cracked, "... is everything alright, brother?"

He had remained silent for a considerable amount of time before answering. His eyes tossed to the side as he drew himself closer and sat by his sister's side. His legs crossed and his hands fell limply upon his thighs as he compiled the words. How had he even come to the temple? He hadn't remembered traveling here. He only remembered thinking of Elizabeth and how awful she must feel at the moment. His dark raven hair fell before his face hiding his amber eyes as he thought. When the words had finally come to him he looked up at Elizabeth, "... where is Xilivicus?"

This question had surprised her and for a moment she, herself, hadn't known the answer. Her lips had pursed and she looked back to the fire as if the answer had been held captive by the embers. Her eyes narrowed tiredly and she questioned, "Why do you ask this?"

The male Altmer's shoulders fell at this and he looked to the flames while answering her, "So many things have been happening to us recently. Most of these things have been happening to you, Elizabeth. Obviously I can tell that you and Xilivicus were separated and he lays in Oblivion and you here. At first I thought the best would soon come, but then the Hero had..." he trailed off and his mouth remained agape as he formed together his next words. "Elizabeth, please... shed some light upon this situation. All these things are so confusing to me. Allow me to glimpse into these events—I want to help you!"

"No one can help me," Elizabeth had told him while giving him a gloomy glance. "There is nothing that anyone can do."

"Elizabeth," Daelon pleaded, "... what has happened? I want to know."

As he begged her to go further into the subject her eyes became misty. Painful memories were resurrected from the depths of her mind and she could see the Hero shoulder-blast Xilivicus. His body tumbled through the air and with a fleeting glance he had looked her way. His eyes shone brighter then the lava and in that moment he had said, 'Goodbye'. His body melted away and turned to ash before it plummeted into the depths of despair. The maiden closed her eyes as these memories stung her and continued to draw up emotions which she had gotten rid of, or at least she thought she had. She turned her head away as she considered laying it all at Daelon's feet. He was possibly the closest to her besides the Hero—would he not understand?

But then again he was the son of Jerald Asquerana.

What if he had the same point of view that her father had? What if he would only scold her and expose her to the world? She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let strangers curse the name of her former-lover. Her head shook frantically and she told her brother, "I'm sorry, Daelon. There's nothing I can tell."

"Lies," he hissed while unfolding his legs and forcing himself up to his knees. He planted his hands upon the armrest of the chair. The wood gave off a wary yawn as the Altmer leaned upon it. His eyes narrowed and he continued with concern in his tone, "You are hiding something from us, Elizabeth. You are hiding something from me! Please, I beg of you, tell me. I will understand—no matter what you may think I am nothing like father. I will not spurn you from the family."

"It's so complicated," Elizabeth tried to explain while keeping her gaze from him. Her eyes scanned the floor as a few forgotten tears were hampered.

"Then simplify it for me," he told her.

She lowered her head even more and continued, "It hurts too much."

"Then let me carry the burden," he told her while placing his hand upon her own.

Her head twirled around to him sending a few long tresses of silver to kiss his cheek. Her hair glistened like snow in the firelight. Tears were nearly overflowing her innocent eyes. Her lips trembled and she whispered vulnerably, "No one knows what it is like..."

"Then force me to understand." He continued to tell her. His other hand had lifted to her cheek wiping away some of her tears. His lips had pursed and his thin eyebrows curved downwards as he could feel the sadness already. "Make me _understand_."

As she looked into those loving amber eyes she couldn't help but to feel herself beginning to shatter. Those eyes were so much like Xilivicus' and yet so different. Daelon's fingertips upon her skin were gentle and loving; a brotherly touch that calmed her. How they had never been close before she hadn't known. Her lips fell to pieces and she had begun her story. It began many days before this.

When Xilivicus was human.

Daelon's eyes shifted between her own as he listened. His face fell as time went along and her story unfolded even more before him. So many things began to piece together now. Things were finally beginning to make sense. When Elizabeth had told Daelon that she and Xilivicus had made love, her brother's grasp upon her hand had tightened. Not out of anger—but out of tolerance and compassion. She had explained what happened within the last realm of Oblivion, and how the Hero had murdered Xilivicus. When she began this part of her epic tale, she began to cry.

There had been an interval as Daelon soothed his sister by embracing her tightly. He kissed her forehead and rocked her lightly in his arms. When she had finally been settled, she carried on. She explained of his death and how it had affected her from that day. She told him of how the Hero had come into her room and saw her Conjuration books. She told of him embracing and loving on her and how she had the nightmare of Broga. Her life story had been placed before her brother and the entire time... he had only sat there with his eyes fastened upon her. He did not interrupt or even scold her after she had finished telling her tale. He only sat there; listening.

When she had finished he looked upon her and told her, "... you must not tell father."

"I hadn't planned upon that," she told him while wiping her eyes with the base of her palm. She looked back to him and heaved an irregular sigh as she asked him, "Daelon, what am I to do? If... if the Hero's intentions are true—when this war is over he will wish to..."

"Elizabeth," interrupted he, "... do you have feelings for him?"

Silence overcame them and all that was heard was the sizzling of the fireplace whose chips of wood became ash and flames erupted into the air. Elizabeth cocked her head and slowly looked to her brother while answering him, "... sometimes... when we are alone I believe I do. When he is so near and I can hear his heartbeat. It reminds me... of Xilivicus. He had said that he lived on in this realm, Daelon, what if he meant that he lived on in the Hero?"

The Altmer sat back and lowered his gaze as he thought. Just as he was about to answer, he saw that Elizabeth embraced her stomach and closed her eyes. His brow furrowed and he asked, "Are you alright?"

She smiled meekly and retorted, "I am slightly nauseated, that is all. I believe all these emotions and events are getting to me. It is nothing."

A grimace overcame him and when he looked back upon his sister malice and sadness swirled like a cyclone in his amber eyes. He sat in silence for a moment or two allowing the warmth of the hearth to overflow him. Slowly, but surely, he had risen to his feet and kept his eyes away from his sister. Elizabeth watched him warily as he turned away and stalked over to the living quarter's door. The maiden called out for him and he stopped for only a minute to hear her ask him, "... Daelon... what is wrong?"

He glanced over his shoulder and refused to answer her question, "Call to me when the Hero arrives. He shouldn't be much longer."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and watched as her brother slipped into the darkness and disappeared leaving her to herself.

-+-

The sun was high in the midday sky casting the long darkened silhouettes of many trees. From the darkness came a large and sinister form whose eight legs trudged across the ground carefully. Its two human-like hands folded before it as it moved. The wild wind blew its long silver hair and its pure eyes lifted across the terrain observing the gardens of Cyrodiil. Velthada moved leisurely as she climbed the hilltop and made her way to the shrine of Mephala. This was a rather pleasing day, or at least she thought it was as she ascended the hillside. When she saw the limestone statuette of her Prince she felt a rushing pride and loyalty overcome her heart. However, it hadn't overcome the sadness which she felt.

Xilivicus was dead.

Mephala would not be pleased.

Velthada climbed across the rocks and soon she saw she was alone with the statue. When she drew close she heard the voice of her Prince whisper to her tiredly, "...Velthada... you have returned to me with news?"

"Yes, my prince," the Spider-Daedra had told her in her melodic rich voice. She bowed considerably and when she had risen she sheltered a frown across her blackened lips, "It has come to my knowledge that one of your pawns has fallen into the clutches of death, milord."

"Which unfortunate Daedra was it, my servant?" Mephala questioned.

"Dremora Xilivicus," Velthada replied while lifting her eyes up to the statue's eyes. A frown creased over her face and she continued, "There is more as well."

"I grieve over the loss of such an admirable pawn in my weaved plans. But he had played his part... what else is there to tell, little one?" Mephala hissed. The Prince's voice echoed around the Spider Daedra nearly making her cower.

Velthada's eyes shifted across the statue's base as she thought of how to word this, "... It has come to my attention that... even though Xilivicus has passed on to the next life, he lives again."

"Lives again?" Mephala snarled, "... what do you mean?"

Velthada closed her eyes and answered her Prince, "His spirit lives within the womb of the Altmer maiden Elizabeth," as she spoke this she could remember the night she had taken Xilivicus into the Watch's Keep. She sat by the slumbering maiden's side and when her hand had fallen upon her stomach she could feel the life filling her womb. She could sense the growth of an infant within Elizabeth. "Before his death, my brother had lain with the Altmer and together they concieved."

Mephala laughed wildly as she heard this. Oh, the web had just gotten even larger upon this news! So much betrayal and hatred would rise from this event! This would not be the last of Oblivion and Tamriel mixing together in such malice. The Prince felt very pleased and with a soothing voice she had told her servant, "... leave me now, Velthada. Run back to Oblivion and make certain no one learns of our meeting."

"Yes, milord," Velthada bowed and just as she turned to leave she heard Mephala whisper her last words.

"Oh, Velthada, what a web we have weaved!" The Prince had sighed.

-+-

A few more hours had passed and night began to fall over the land. The moon reached its head into the sky as it breathed darkness over everything. Many things had fallen into a slumber awaiting the new day; however, there were still a few people still wide awake. Cloud Ruler Temple became anxious as their Hero had not returned. Most of them had feared the worst and they had set themselves up in chairs waiting for his return. Daelon and Elizabeth were two of these people. The rest consisted of Martin Septim, Jaufree, Jerald and even Orrick had showed. The youngest of Asquerana men had placed himself the back of the room away from everyone else. Within him the war still waged as he tried to fight back his rising emotions. His twin brother had been murdered before him. Neither he nor anyone else knew how long it would take before he was well again.

Daelon's arm was draped around Elizabeth's body as he sat in silence. His eyes were plastered upon the flames of the fire. Darkened circles slept under his drooping eyes and his fingertips caressed his sister's shoulder lightly as he knew she was deep in sleep. Her head leaned upon his chest with her hair covering her like a broad silver blanket. He glanced down to her with a grimace as he knew that the Hero would not show up tonight. This had became apparent for many people and slowly the crowd began to thin until there was only Daelon and Elizabeth left.

The male Altmer heard his sister sniffle a few times and he glanced down to her seeing a smile pull across her face. His brow furrowed and he pushed back a few strands of hair to see her beautiful smile. Those happy tears slid through her thick dark eyelashes and slid down her round cheek. She must have been dreaming. Oh, how he praised the gods that they let her sleep in peace. If the world would not show her happiness at least her dreams would. He caressed his fingertips through her hair hoping this would keep her asleep. His neck and back began to ache as he had been sitting awkwardly so that Elizabeth would be comfortable. The hours slipped by and Daelon could not keep his eyes open any longer. The Hero would not return tonight. With a last burst of energy Daelon had shifted Elizabeth and picked her up. He cradled her like an infant and took her to the living quarters. As he ascended the stairs he tossed his eyes down to her.

He remembered a long time ago when she was merely a babe and he was five or six. She hadn't yet learned to walk so he had carried her around. He held her tightly to himself as he walked to the living room and up the stairs to the play area where Bromus would be waiting. She had always looked so innocent and oblivious. It pained him when people would use her and treat her awfully. He shifted her onto one arm as he pushed open the sliding door and stepped in. Gradually he shuffled his booted feet across the ground until he was to her bed. He hunched over and placed her comfortably upon the bed hoping that she would not have another nightmare. Just as he slipped his arms from her he had heard a distant crash. His ears perked and his eyes widened as he had realized what it was. Elizabeth stirred for only a second before falling back into the clutches of sleep. Daelon raised himself and hurriedly rushed from the room sliding the door softly into its slot behind him. He made his way down the stairs and exited the living quarters quickly and surely, he had thought right.

The Hero breathed heavily while tossing a bloodied wooden staff to the floor with a soiled blue robe wrapped around it. Blood stained his once polished armor and sweat burdened his brow. His coiled golden hair hung into his face and he slowly turned to look at Daelon with a weak smile. He lifted a heavy gauntlet and showed the glistening ruby of the Amulet of Kings. "I've got it."

Daelon looked unimpressed. He stood as a statue merely looking over the Hero with hardened eyes. The Hero's gauntlet slowly fell back down to his side and his breath still rushed a faltering smile upon his lips, "... what... what's wrong?"

The Altmer walked forward with a lowered gaze and just as he came close enough his arm launched backwards and swiftly he propelled his fist through the air and it collided it with the Hero's jaw. The man stumbled backwards and the weight of his armor caused him to come crashing down. He collided with the granite floor sending off a loud ruckus from beneath him. The Amulet of Kings became loosened from his grasp and it slid across the floor lying idly in the wide open. He groaned as he felt some of the jagged parts of his armor pierce into his back causing him a throbbing pain. His brow furrowed and he lifted himself up with a broken lip whose blood shimmered like the amulet.

"You son of a bitch," Daelon barked vilely with tapered eyes, his hand shaking the ache away for he hadn't expected to hit him that hard. His face throbbed with a reddening malice and a vein showed upon his forehead as he continued, "How could you _do_ that to her?! How could you _kill_ him?"

"What are you..." his voice trailed off and suddenly he knew. His brow furrowed and his anger was lost within the tide and he attempted to explain, "Daelon... please... it isn't what it seems."

"He's dead, isn't he?" Daelon stepped around the Hero with a tensed structure. His hands were gripped into fists and rationality was lost within his swirling malice. The warmth of the fire behind him provoked his anger all the more. The rising flames became his hatred and the heat that pulsed from it was his annoyance. "You were jealous of him, that's why you did it! You understand what I understand now, don't you? You know precisely _how_ Xilivicus lives on—don't you?!"

There was silence and slowly the Hero had avoided the question with an explanation, "I was overcome by hatred and envy, Daelon. You must believe me that I never meant to cause Elizabeth this much harm. I'm doing all I can to justify—"

"Justify?!" Daelon scoffed, "You're trying to _justify_ the situation?! You think that protecting and being with Elizabeth for the rest of her life will justify _this_? I had thought you heroes smart. I suppose I was mistaken."

The Hero stepped nearer with a creased brow and eyes that pulsed annoyance. His teeth gritted and he snarled softly to the Altmer, "Her child is _fatherless_... who else can she turn to?! Who will understand her?! Who will protect her?!"

"I will," Daelon hissed while leaning closer. His nose wrinkled as he sneered, "She is my family; she is my little sister. I'll do whatever I can to provide for her and keep her safe. I won't let the murderer of her beloved to be the step-father of her child!"

"We can't have anyone know of the origins of the baby," the Hero argued while lifting a gauntlet to his head. He rubbed his temples harshly while continuing quickly and silently, "I must pretend to be the father so Elizabeth will be safe. What would people say if they knew the baby came from a demon?"

"He _wasn't_ a demon," Daelon retorted. "He was more human then you are."

The Hero's darkened eyes narrowed as he glared upon the Altmer. His structure became tensed as well as the two of them walked circles around each other. An army of brown and an army of amber fought as they continued to hold a fierce look. The man turned his face away and then questioned lightly, "... are we even sure she is...?"

The Altmer lowered his gaze and shook his head, "... the only actual proof we have is the fact that elves conceive children at a higher rate then any other race. Altmer is an ancient tribal collection and to continue the species the birth rate is exceedingly high. The possibility of Xilivicus and Elizabeth..." he trailed off while tossing his eyes away. At last the truth had hit him and his heart began to fall within his chest. A hand lifted to Daelon's lips and he placed the pads of his fingertips against the smooth texture of his lips. "...what are we going to do?"

"You're going to pretend you knew nothing," the Hero snarled while stepping closer. "When it comes to it I shall confess to sleeping with your sister—"

"We can't just pretend we don't know the truth!" Daelon argued.

"If we want your sister to be safe—if we want the child to be safe—we must pretend." When he had finished speaking, he quickly made his way to the Amulet of Kings and scooped it into his grasp. He held tightly to the precious jewel as he pivoted his head and told Daelon, "In the morning I shall present the Amulet of Kings to Martin and we shall begin our journey to the Imperial Palace. I want you to come with me—you and your brother as well as your father."

"...and Elizabeth?" Daelon inquired, "She won't let us leave so easily without her."

"Dagon had sworn to attack again and I am certain that it would be upon the way to the Imperial City or even within it. It may not seem brilliant, but the safest place for Elizabeth is with us. We can't allow her to stay here. If Broga were to find out we had left her here..." he trailed off with a head shake and he had finished lightly, "... I won't let him kidnap her. Not again."

Daelon nodded and crossed him arms, "So by midday tomorrow we leave for the Imperial City, by nightfall we should be in the palace and before the next morning Martin shall light the Dragonfires and stop Oblivion from overtaking Tamriel." A weak smile spread across his lips and he laughed meekly, "... is this how it feels to be a Hero?"

The man grinned and nodded solemnly, "I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"What about after the Dragonfires are lit? Elizabeth will have her child in a few months from now. Are you to stay with the Emperor or with the woman who bares the child of a Daedra?"

"As I live I shall protect and serve Cyrodiil," said he. His eyes turned to the flames and he continued lightly, "...but I, too, must serve my heart. For that reason I shall remain by Elizabeth's side. I am forever indebted to her."

Daelon turned his eyes to the flames as well. The pulsing brilliance caused him to narrow his eyes. The anger seeped from him as reality set in. He couldn't continue to hate the Hero for his past doings. There was nothing he could do about it now, so he must move on just as the world had. He chuckled lightly and questioned the Imperial, "... I can only imagine what if would be like if Xilivicus was alive."

The Hero furrowed his brow soberly and continued to watch the flames dance before him. His lips had sealed for a moment as he merely thought over it. He would continue to serve under Elizabeth Asquerana, but he would have to watch as the only woman he loved married and bore children to a Daedric man. The heartache would be unendurable and he would indeed die not long after. But Elizabeth would be happy, and she would live on and spread the word of the Hero who had saved Kvatch and protected her until his final days and also saved all of Cyrodiil. He would die in peace. But... this daydream would never happen for he had murdered Xilivicus and all Elizabeth's hopes and dreams that lied within that Daedric heart. "... I never heard of a Daedra being grieved over like this before."

"He wasn't really Daedric in our eyes," Daelon had corrected him with a faltering smile; "He was family."

The Hero turned his eyes downwards to see the sparkling Divine gold and ruby of the Amulet of Kings. His grasp had tightened upon it soon hiding it from his sight. His dark woodland eyes lifted and he said, "...go rest, my friend. Tomorrow is an exceptionally significant day."

The Altmer man gave a nod in comprehension and he turned towards the living quarters to head off to bed. Just as he was to walk through the door the Hero had called his name. Daelon gave a glimpse over his shoulder as the Imperial man told him, "... Xilivicus would have made a wonderful father and husband to Elizabeth. I am genuinely sorry that I had taken him away from all of you."

Daelon bowed his head and glanced back to the living quarter's doors as he replied to the man's apology, "You are but a human, my friend. You sin just as the rest of us do and I can tell that you are going to serve your punishment. I only wished that you would have come to your senses before that fateful day in Oblivion. Xilivicus is indeed dead, but his spirit lives on. If it were not for him we all wouldn't be here right now."

"... Indeed," the Hero spoke softly as he thought over it.

"Get some sleep, my friend," Daelon grinned while walking through the doors. "You need it more then the rest of us." With that, he had departed leaving the Hero to himself.

The Imperial man stalked slowly towards the fire looking it deeply into its ember eyes. The warmth of the hearth had overcome him and dried the once fresh blood upon him which belonged to Daedra and Mankar himself. The heat had burdened him and caused him to sweat even more turning his sun kissed skin golden with a gleam. His eyes were alit as he contemplated over the thoughts that loomed within his mind. His eyes scanned the embers thoroughly and gently he questioned it, "Who is the one that is protecting us and bringing us further down this rickety and darkened path? Is it the Nine Divines who we worship daily?" His brow furrowed and he whispered lightly for only the fire and himself to hear, "... or is it a Daedric Prince whose intentions are thus far anonymous?"

The sound of gold against gold was music to the man's ears. He narrowed his eyes and turned his back towards the flames with that question looming in his wayward heart. That night he held loosely upon the Amulet of Kings, for he knew with the coming morning the true trial would begin and not everyone would walk from this war alive.

--_**TBC**_--

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**_Hope you enjoyed this filler-sort of Chapter. Usually no one likes fillers because they don't have a lot of action and such-- but I know a lot of you are praising me for giving the beat down on Broga --although it pained me to write it since I love Broga and I think he's a sexy beotch-- and there were things I needed to clear up so here you are. Final chapters ahead. I think maybe three more. Maybe only two. But I think three._ READ AND REVIEW!!! _You know you want to tell me what you think. Except you, flamers, who only want to bash the story._ **


	30. The Final Journey: Broga's Rebirth

**_Here's the update. I hope you enjoy. It's all leading up to the last chapter which will more and likely be two away from this one. _**

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-+-

The bleeding sun rose across the lakes of lava awakening the brooding souls of the Daedra who stalked across the terrain aimlessly. Neither Clannfear nor Dremora could sleep in fear for their own lives. Commander Broga—the strongest of them all—had failed Mehrunes Dagon so miserably that he had been beaten to an inch of his life. What hope did they have to recapture the scholar or even Martin Septim himself? Their faith spiraled through the depths of their minds being overcome by darkness. A few Daedra had collected in a courtyard conversing silently with each other. Suddenly, from the entrance of the yard they had seen a messenger. His face was grave with disappointment and fear. He carried within his grey claws a single golden scroll. His eyes shifted across the yard and he entered the scene hastily giving not a glance to his brethren.

The crowd of Daedra watched him pass with scowls creasing over their faces. They heard his thumping heart and the aroma of fear lingered upon his presence. What worse news could be told to Lord Dagon? The grand onyx doors to Dagon's temple were thrusted open and the messenger disappeared within its embrace traveling quickly. His worn boots trekked across the limestone ever so softly hoping not to interrupt a council meeting; if there was one. The messenger's eyes lifted across the parapets of stone which loomed many yards into the air disappearing and finally reappearing near the spider-like glass of the dome that loomed overhead. This dome showed the great crimson sky whose colors ran like blood. Flashes of lightning and roars of thunder echoed throughout these heavens making the messenger move even faster. He came to the Council Chamber's doors and without thinking he intruded. When he had stalked into the large courtroom he heard the council members fall silent. Dagon's heated black eyes befell the little messenger and without even looking to his Prince, the Dremora tromped over to a council member and handed him the letter. His dark mahogany eyes lifted and his hoarse voice finally spoke. That identical grave look hindered any other emotion besides dread, "... A correspondence from Dremora Kathutet from Mankar's Paradise. He had been resurrected in the Plane of Havoc."

Hidden behind the crimson cowl, the Dremora had frowned. The messenger bowed respectfully and quickly fled the scene for he knew he didn't want to stay to see the reaction to the letter. The councilmember had stood up and unfurled the scroll, his silver eyes soon skimming the daedric symbols. His eyes widened and he slowly read aloud for he could tell that Dagon's curious eyes were upon him;

"Upon the fiftenteeth of the fifth month, morning rise of the third star the Champion of Cyrodiil had approached the path to receive the Bands of the Chosen. His quest was to find and slay Mankar Camoran. As you may tell from my resurrection I had been slain along with all my brothers who were within the realm. Mankar Camoran, Raven Camoran, and Ruma Camoran had been slain upon the final hours of the day. Paradise had been destroyed and..." the Dremora stopped for a second to lower the scroll from his frightened face. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he had finished the sentence, "… the Amulet of Kings is in the hands of the Champion."

A thundering roar shattered through the walls sending dust to flutter through the thick atmosphere. The strident call had echoed out into the heavens causing the thunder to cower before it. The windows of the temple shattered easily and many eardrums were shattered as well sending rolls of blood to slide from the citizens' ears. Pillars crumbled and lava boiled with the heated fury of Mehrunes Dagon the Prince of Destruction. The council fell to their knees pleading for their Prince to show them mercy. They cried loudly and some screamed seeing the walls on the verge of collapsing upon them. Dagon had shattered the limestone throne and now he stood with his jagged onyx horns nearly piercing the top of his temple. One of his gargantuan hands had seized the hefty and very terrifying battleaxe from his side, soon ripping it from its sheath. His jagged teeth gritted together and with a thunderous voice he summoned a guard to fetch him the only capable man who knew the terrain of Tamriel.

-+-

The dungeons were peaceful and silent and certainly were not bothered by the strident calls of the Daedric Prince. The battered and broken body of Broga laid across two healing slabs for his body was so much larger then the regular Dremora. He lay unconscious with the sweet fantasies of the Altmer maiden raiding through his restless mind. They were entire opposites for she had the fairest of skin and he the darkest, her silver hair was tamed and beautiful while his was a gleaming onyx with streaks of a darkened crimson, her eyes were a crystalized innocence while his were the darkest of reds which held all the contempt in the world. His darkened lips were sealed and his brow considerably furrowed as he dreamed of her. He could feel her delicate touch upon his cheek and slowly her fingertips ran down his body. He let this pleasureable feeling trance him. Her fingertips ran down his sides and right when they had reached his hips, her fingertips dug into his skin and tore him apart as if he were made of naught but paper. His eyes ripped open and he heaved deep breaths. Sweat burdened his creased brow and all he could do was stare up at the grimy ceiling which had collected both blood and mold from the past decades. Broga's lips became unsealed and he could feel his swollen heart pound furiously under his chest. Fear had choked him and he nearly vomited a mixture of blood and bile.

He cocked his head to a side seeing no one around him. This had calmed the man's shattered nerves. He desired to lift himself from the table and stroll around the courtyard; however, his wounds and splitted bones hindered him. "…you're awake," a soothing melodic voice cooed to him.

Broga whipped his head to his other side soon knocking his horns against the rusted metal of the healing slab. He ignored the discomfort and snarled out into the blackness which surrounded him, "Whose there?!"

From the shades approached the Spider-Daedra with a sincere frown pulling across her magnificent façade. Broga was calmed slightly when he saw her saunter into the golden light of the torch's flames. His eyelids fell and he whispered to her, "Sister… have you come to heal me?"

"I would never stoop low enough to help such a vermin," Velthada answered truthfully. Her hands folded before her now as she marveled upon his broken and pitiful carcass. So many years she had seen him in the highest of physical condition and when he was his healthiest he would betray her beloved brethren and slaughter down her own Sister-Daedra. He would use his brawn as a tool to gain fear from the Daedra who served beneath him. Now that he lie a pathetic waste, begging for mercy—she would only admire the masterpiece that the war hammers had made upon his sinful body. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke with harsh words, "What caused such a beating, _Commander_? What sack of lies brought this upon you?"

As she asked him these mocking questions it had neither bothered nor saddened him. She had all the right to treat him this way. For he, too, had treated others this way. His departed brethren, Xilivicus, the main target of his fury and jealously. Broga's serene crimson eyes had narrowed as he replied to her truthfully, "Lord Dagon had summoned me to Court after I had returned from the Great Plane of Oblivion. Right as I had entered he sent the guards upon me. My failure to overcome Tamriel and send the Siege Machine successfully into the other realm had brought this fate upon me. It had worsened even more when I had told Dagon that Elizabeth had escaped Oblivion."

Velthada narrowed her eyes and this time her question was formed out of curiousity and not as a way to twist her brother's arm. "…why hadn't you stopped her?"

Broga lay in silence.

The Spider-Daedra narrowed her piercing eyes and lowered her brow as she looked upon him. For the first time in a long time, Broga had surprised her. She advanced forward and lowered herself. From the fleeting glance she caught from the Commander's eyes she could see guilt and… heartache. A disturbed frown creased her face and she inquired, "… you willingly set her free, didn't you? You already knew that if you commanded her not to leave she would have been teleported back to Mehrunes Realm along with yourself." She leaned closer and hissed into his ear, "_Why_ did you let her go?"

Broga finally pivoted his head to Velthada. She cringed as she looked upon his face. He had been hidden in shadow and she could not see the extreme amounts of torture that the Commander had been submitted to. A deep purple bruise became of his broken cheekbone. His hooked nose slightly set off—no doubt by the great swing of a hammer. His skin had been ripped apart and blood rolled down his brow and across one of his eyes. The blood had been caught in his pupil which resulted in blindness in his left eye; this happened to be the same side of the face that Elizabeth had left a scar with the jagged shattered ends of a vial of poison. Velthada's heart twinged with pity as she looked upon such horror. The Commander let off a raspy breath as he told his Spider sister, "…I want her dead more then anything. I want to see her writhe in pain and suffer everything that I have had to suffer because of her."

"Why hadn't you killed her then? You sit here bickering to the darkness of how one little Altmer had ruined your entire life. You were a commander of Dagon's armies. You were loyal and he cherished you above all other commanders and generals. You could have gotten rid of her simply and forced someone else to take the…" she stopped when she saw Broga focusing his weary eyes upon her. Her eyes searched his own and she could tell that he had thought about it. Her tensed shoulders gradually fell back to a regular position.

Broga's eyes lifted to the dirty ceiling. His tongue ran against the arch of his mouth and he swallowed a thickened pool of saliva. His lips had parted and just as he said her name, he could remember that night she had come into the Watch's keep. She was crying. His plans of seperating Xilivicus and Elizabeth had been successful and she came to him after. When she had collapsed he had moved forward and they embraced. He could hear her voice echo through his mind like the sweet chime of a bell. It was music to his ears when she told him, _Please, don't leave me._ She wished him to stay. She wanted him to be near her, and that morning she had fallen asleep upon his chest. Oh, how perfect she looked. How the hatred and lust had melted away at the first hours of the new day. "... The image of Elizabeth has scorched my mind. I can't escape that blue gaze. Try as I might I can not flee from the dream the befalls me every night where it is I she is with..." his brow trembled and he laughed weakly. He was falling into the clutches of death. There was no reason for him to lie anymore. His logic was lost within the tide of delusion. He coughed heavily making his chest heave back and forth. A few beads of blood came from tattered sections of his skin as he had convulsed in such a way. Velthada held her hand over the man with a saddened gaze. True to the fact she had always wished pain upon him... but not this much pain. When Broga had ceased coughing he told his sister the truth, "... I love her. I need her near me. Damnit, Velthada, will death cease this desire? Will death finally set me free from Elizabeth's spell?"

"No," she whispered to him. "I don't think it would." Her eyes shifted between his and tears were leisurely summoned to her glistening irises. She smiled weakly and leaned a hand forward soon caressing a few strands of Broga's sweat dampened hair back from his broken and bloody face. When the Spider had thought of Broga's actions towards Elizabeth, a scowl was aroused. However, when she contemplated over it she could understand. The Great Dremora had always been given what he desired. He had been given authority, influence, the Watch Keep, and practically anything he requested. How hard would it be for him to watch as the only thing he had truly desired be taken from him by none other then Xilivicus, the prodigy of Mara and Dibella? The heartache and pain that must have influenced Broga to do all those awful things must have been great and still now, as Xilivicus lie dead, he could not achieve Elizabeth. She shared not the same feelings that the Commander had, nor would she ever. In time, Mehrunes Dagon would demand the death of Elizabeth Asquerana. Velthada couldn't imagine the sorrow that would bring the loyal officer. Who would he be devoted to: his Lord, or his heart?

Velthada sat in silence with her brother for some time, attempting to soothe his nerves. His thick onyx body glistened with sweat and blood in the torchlight. His breathing became exceedingly raspy and it became a burden to him. His eyes fluttered shut and he began to rest deeply; encased in sleep. Not long after this moment, a guard had strolled down the hall and entered the healing quarters. Velthada lifted herself onto her spiked black legs and directed her eyes towards the guard. Her head had lifted and she questioned, "What is it you need?"

"Mehrunes Dagon has requested the presence of Commander Broga." The guard had stated, his façade hidden behind a spiked helmet.

"Does our Lord not know that the commander is but a second from death? He is in no state to arise and walk from here to Dagon's courtroom." Velthada argued with a furrowed brow.

The guard stepped nearer and replied simply in a hoarse voice, "Lord Dagon is fully aware of the circumstances that Commander Broga is under." The guard's wicked spined gauntlet lifted to his belt and from it he pulled a battleaxe whose blade was sharpened and tips demanded a sacrifice. Velthada's face fell somber as she looked upon the axe. Her eyes lingered for but a moment, then she returned her eyes to the guard as he spoke, "For that reason, I tell you to travel to the spawning pits. Upon arrival inform the newly resurrected Broga that he is needed within the council chambers. Be silent upon your leave—I wish to keep our commander from waking."

Velthada wished to deny the request of this guard; however, her rank was beneath him. She bowed respectfully and quickly left. The tips of her feet shuffled across the floor. She desired to get as far away from the dungeons before the guard had finished what Dagon had not completed. Just as she walked into the elongated and musky hall, a great sound echoed from behind her. The axe had given off a fast paced chopping sound which made the Spider-Daedra cringe. Her eyes closed and she walked faster whispering sadly to herself; _Mephala, what will become of this war?_

-+-

The golden sun had risen gradually over the peaks of the Jerall mountains. The blazing orb had signed the new day and as the first rays broke over the boulders and rocks the Hero had risen from sleep. He had unsuited himself during the night and found it rather challenging. Usually, someone had always helped him, but this time he didn't want to awake anyone. A long tan tunic hung from his slender frame and a pair of leather huntsman pants clung to his legs. He walked barefoot across the ground not minding the draft of this frigid morning. He had escaped from the living quarters and upon his arrival to the Temple he found Martin Septim and Jaufree. No one had known of the Hero's return and so when the Grandmaster Blade and Heir saw him they had come over and embraced him. The Hero had presented Martin with the Amulet of Kings and both Jaufree and Martin marveled at it. The heir held it tightly in his hands with a faltering smile pulling across his aged lips. He looked up to the Hero and thanked him for all the grave danger he had trudged through to receive the amulet for him. Forever would Cyrodiil be within his debt.

The Hero merely chuckled and welcomed Martin. The faint sound of the living quarter's door made the knight pivot his head and glance over his shoulder. His woodland eyes were wide with hope and a smile pulled across his lips as he saw that it was Elizabeth who had entered the room. Right as his eyes fell upon her, he could feel his heart flutter but once in his chest. _It's her! She's here!_ His heart had twittered excitedly. Martin grinned brightly and soon both him and Jaufree had walked off to leave the knight and the Altmer to themselves. From the other side of the room, Jerald had entered. His peppered hair had been slicked back and his eyes were lively for he had just submitted himself to the air of the mountains like he had every morning. He had came to a halt when he saw the Hero standing before the fireplace. His eyes narrowed and he continued to watch.

Elizabeth's eyes blinked a few times to make certain he was not just some haze of sleep that lingered in her eyes. Her feet had shuffled forward and for a moment she was hindered when the Hero fully turned towards her. His golden curls were a mess upon his head; however, they still looked charming like they always had. He stood emotionless for but a moment. Within the depths of the fireplace a log had sizzled and let off a pressured pop. Upon this noise, Elizabeth had belted through the air at the Hero. When she came close to him, she had leapt off the ground and into his arms. Upon this same noise, the Hero had opened his arms. Distinctively they knew what was to happen. He embraced her tightly around the waist and her arms had wrapped around his hunched neck. He spun her around sending her nightgown to flutter through the air as well as her silver tresses. When he had placed her down upon the ground he withdrew slightly to look within her eyes. Her head lifted from his chest and she grinned up at him sniffling to some extent. The Hero lowered his head and smiled dashingly as he joked, "Miss me?" She laughed heartily and nodded frantically soon embracing him again.

Jerald narrowed his eyes and continued to watch them for a moment more. Slowly he had slid to the side of the room and disappeared through the living quarter's door with curious questions lingering in his mind. Elizabeth pulled her head away and questioned him, "… what was it like?"

"Considering the name is Paradise…" he teased. Elizabeth bowed her head with a giggle and an annoyed smile and when she returned her gaze to him, he had told her truthfully, "It looked beautiful, but there were Daedra patrolling the entire place and beneath it was a grotto where immortals were being tortured."

"That sounds awful," the maiden had said while placing her head against his chest. Her eyes had fluttered closed and she heard the soft sweet patter of his heart pulse into her curved ear. "I am so glad that you had come back."

"As am I," said he as he lifted a hand and caressed her long tresses. He felt his heart quicken its pace as he could feel her lips press against an exposed section of his collarbone. Her lips were gentle to his skin. Surely she hadn't meant to kiss him there. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the top of her head.

Elizabeth withdrew slightly and when she looked up to the Hero she had inquired, "When are we to take Martin to the Imperial City?"

"We leave today," replied he, "Around midday… and by nightfall we shall enter into the city. Jaufree is sending out scouts now to clear the paths and make the journey safe for us. If any Oblivion gates are spotted the guards shall close them. They are all capable enough to do so now that they have the hope and strength."

As the maiden heard this she was waiting for him to say that she would stay behind. She awaited a speech of how she was unable to fight. But… he hadn't muttered those words. Elizabeth cocked her head to a side and then asked, "Shall I join you on your journey?"

"I would have it no other way," the Hero had retorted with a grin. "You are an essential part to our journey. You, your brothers, and your father alike. All of the Asquerana hold a profound knowledge of magicka. Rather it be healing, defensive, or even offensive. You four would be important in battle."

"Do you suppose we would face any opposition upon our travel? No one would dare defy us now that they have seen Tamriel's true strength." Elizabeth had said while pulling away from her friend. Her arms had crossed before her and her eyes had scanned his own as they spoke.

The Hero had shrugged his heavy burdened shoulders slightly with a slight head tilt. When his shoulders had fell to their usual position he had told her, "… Besides Martin, the four Asquerana and myself—we only have Jaufree and one Blade. If Mehrunes Dagon were to send a small quadrant after us I am not sure that we would fair so well. We must have faith that the Nine Divines will guide us safetly to the Imperial City for Martin to light the Dragonfires. There is no one else to turn to now… let us pray that they come through this time."

-+-

The hours had passed and everyone began to suit themselves for the travel. When Jaufree had come to the eldest of Asquerana, the Lord had been surprised. He thought surely they would be left from such a vital part of the mission. But if the Emperor requested of their presense then Jerald would be obliged. The elder man had fit himself into his old Arcane University robes. He tightened the leather belt across his waist finding it to be as fitting as it was thirty years ago as it was today. A Blade had been sent to Bruma to retrieve the necessary equiptment needed. For Jerald it was a staff of fire and for Orrick, it was a strudy ebony bow fitted with a numerous amount of arrows. When Elizabeth had requested a steel longsword, the Hero had denied her request.

She became annoyed with him and quickly demanded why he hadn't given her the sword which she needed. His reply was rather straightforward. The Hero stalked near a table and from its surface he picked up a tightly wrapped item. When he moved back over to Elizabeth he handed it to her and spoke kindly, "You are worthy of more then steel, Elizabeth." She unwrapped it quickly and looked upon the item with widened eyes. The Hero grinned and finished, "… you are worthy of an Akavari Katana."

Elizabeth dropped the wrapping soon cradling the katana in her hands. It was light but possibly one of the strongest of weapons. The maiden unsheathed the blade and watched as it gleamed in the firelight. Her heart quickened and she flipped the blade over to see the craftmanship. It looked as if it were designed by the gods. Her eyes quickly lifted and she asked the Hero, "Is it alright for me to use it?"

"Jaufree had hoped you would," was his reply. He smiled brightly when she sheathed it and held it tightly in her petite porcelain hands. Her grin broadened and she heaved a deep sigh.

She felt honored to be the owner of a Blade's katana. She knew she was not worthy of it and never would she be. This certain blade only belonged to the best of swordsman. The trained and elite. Within her heart, Elizabeth had thanked Mara and Dibella for showing her such grace and love. The maiden had left for her bedroom and when she arrived she slipped from her current clothes and changed into something more suitable. Upon the petite desk against the left wall she saw an outift of leather. Her eyes had drifted over to it and she saw it laid out for her. A smile crept across her face and she worked it onto her body finding it to fit her fairly well. The smell of leather emitted from the attire and fled her nostrils. She inhaled deeply and slowly let off a deep sigh. Her eyes opened and with her gloved hands she wrapped a belt around her hips and upon the side was the Akavari katana. Her heart fluttered beneath her breast like a child's heart. She was both excited and frightened of the journey before her. She knew not of what this day would bring, but she knew that Mara and Dibella would be with her. She stood tall and strong and heaved a deep breath into her. The heaved breath forced the anxiety within her to seep through her pores and disppear. Her long waved tresses fell over the leather and appeared as coils of snow. Her eyes were lively and lit with the power of the goddesses and with the honor of being a part of this journey. Her lips became pursed and with a long stride she had made her way down to the Temple. Her feet echoed out across the aged wooden boards of the floor. Her heart made her body throb as she went. When she approached the doors to the temple she placed both hands over the faded handles and pushed the doors open. Her eyes lifted and quickly befell the crowd she saw.

Everyone turned their eyes to the living area's door to see their last member. Silence had fallen over them and coated them entirely. The maiden tossed her eyes across the crowd and like a candle in the darkness, the crowd had parted and in the middle stood Martin Septim. Hanging from his body were the ancient robes of the Emperor. As he stood clad in these robes, he felt as if all this time he knew his father. At last, after all these years he felt completed. Elizabeth walked forward and approached Martin. When she stood before him she had bowed humbly and told him, "May my blade serve you well, sire."

A warmth filled smile pulled across Martin's face as he saw Elizabeth before him. He had remembered that fateful day in Kvatch when she had come to him for potions and oils for Bromus. It had seemed like years since the Great Siege of Kvatch. Hopefully upon this day, he would light the dragonfires and the jaws of Oblivion would be closed forevermore. "I am certain you will be a great companion upon our journey, Elizabeth. Everyone is here," he turned his eyes to the armored Jaufree and with a slight head nod he told the old Grandmaster Blade, "... I believe it is time to leave."

"I agree, milord," Jaufree had wheezed while turning his head towards the Asquerana clan and the Hero, "Outside the walls of this fortress you will find eight noble steeds all ready for the long journey ahead of us. Baurus, Jerald, and myself shall remain in the center surrounding Martin. Daelon and Orrick, you shall take the lead and guide us down the paths. Your eyes are the sharpest we have and we need you to keep a lookout for traveling Blades as well as any bandits or creatures or... yes—even Daedra. Elizabeth and our Champion shall take the rear. If anyone is to attack I'm sure they would plan a surprise attack from behind. Elizabeth is familiar with Daedra and their attack methods and our Champion is... well... familiar with killing them, I suppose. We shall leave immediately and hopefully by dusk we shall be within the city. May your blades strike true, my dear friends, and may the Nine Divines guide you."

-+-

Everyone had found themselves a suitable horse and had mounted theirs hurriedly. Elizabeth and the Hero both rode the healthiest of white horses that were found within the collection that the Blades had provided. Daelon and Orrick gave each other a hopeful prayer before heading off down the snowy terrain of the mountains. The elders were quick to follow and last but not least was the Altmer and the Imperial. Elizabeth gripped the leather reins tightly hearing the tightening noise of rawhide against rawhide. Her eyes fell to her fists and after a moment she had tossed her gaze up. A few crystalized flurries waltzed through the frigid atmosphere dancing upon the crowns of the travelers. A billowing puff of smoke escaped the maiden's lips and her eyes were tossed to the Hero who watched her cagily. When her eyes had fallen upon him she had seen the smooth and reddened texture of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His cherry lips pouted and agape allowing a few billows of breath to come from him. His lips had sealed and he clicked his heels lightly into the side of the creature to get it moving. It snorted and followed the group accordingly. "... are you alright?" the Hero had questioned after a while of observing his friend.

The maiden snapped to attention and hurriedly answered systematically, "I'm fine."

They rode in silence only watching the path before them. Within their minds they played the most frightening scenarios that could possibly happen to them on their way or even within the Imperial City. Surely this hadn't calmed their nerves—only worsened them. Yet, they couldn't help themselves from thinking in such a manner. Just as these situations had burdened both the Hero and the Altmer, Elizabeth felt a twisting sickness erupt in her stomach and she felt as if she were to be sick. Her hand had involuntarily let go of the rein and instead it had seized her abdomen. The Hero had glimsped from the side of his eyes and watched her with a scowl. As he saw this he could only sense that what Daelon had said was the truth. If Elizabeth was... with child... going on this adventure could possibly well cost the life of her unborn babe or even herself. _I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her._ The Hero had said silently.

When the sickness had subsided, Elizabeth heaved a profound sigh and thought quietly, _If this continues, I couldn't imagine how it might affect my—_just as she even thought of fighting, her eyes ripped open as if she were struck harshly across the face. Her stomach had deepened and she felt the nerves pull backwards as those piercing crimson eyes flashed within her mind. Chills rolled up and down her spine. The worst case scenario... would be Broga appearing somewhere along this journey. He had overpowered her simply, he could overpower Xilivicus and she was certain if provoked he could overpower the Hero and everyone else who might come across his way. The Hero was a barbaric and sturdy man in battle; however, Broga was like a God of War. He not only had nearly killed her by just constricting her to his body, but she was certain if he had slammed his body against her own he could break her bones and render her useless. His power was unspeakable. His brawn was unimaginable. She knew he had held back because he hadn't truly wanted her dead. But he _did _want the Hero dead. If the Champion was matched off against Broga, Elizabeth would fear the worst.

"... it looks as if you had just seen death," the Hero had whispered while leaning off his horse a bit. "Are you _certain_ you are fine?"

Elizabeth held a faltering smile upon her face as she answered, "I'm just thinking to myself." When the Hero had turned away a pasty scowl had become of her façade. Her eyes turned forward and she thought quietly, _No, I didn't see death, my dear friend, I saw something much _worse.

-+-

Chatter sounded off like the twitter of birds at the first rays of the sun. Whispers were uttered out and some people even sat frightened in corners. Dagon still stood before his council with his weapon brandished. Veins pulsed from his skin and were shown quite well across his darkened crimson facade. His numerous black eyes were fastened upon the door and waited ever so eagerly for it to open and his Commander to come crawling in; pleading for a second chance. The doors had been drawn open by the guards and a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned to the door with widened eyes. Silence became of the room.

From the blackness of the hall, a great strapping man had strided into the room. A scrap of blood red fabric draped across his body to conceal his private parts. Torch light fell lustfully across his contracted onyx muscles. His thickened strong legs took long strides across the marble flooring hoping to enter swiftly and gracefully. The man knew his Lord would not wait for him much longer. An idea had come to him about what this was about. If Mehrunes had wished to see Broga as meek as possible, he would be disappointed. His entirely black lips coiled upwards in a smile as he approached the now standing Dagon. His height was indeed intimidating, but it hadn't frightened the Commander all that much. His foot drew back and his knee had bent as he stooped down and bowed before his Daedric Prince. The Dremora's unbound hair had fallen across his face soon hiding it. His voice; however, had risen from the shroud and lifted up to his Master's ears, "You beckoned me forth, my liege?"

The raspy breaths of Dagon were heard by all as he looked upon Commander Broga both astounded and annoyed. His lips drew back soon exposing his rotting sharpened teeth which stuck out in numerous places from his gums. "Be honored that I had restored your body, Broga. You had failed me miserably and I had thought deeply of allowing you to remain in the tattered and broken state that you were in."

"Your grace," Broga had cooed, "I am but a mere servant to your great will. My loyalty for you shall never falter again."

"Indeed, it hadn't," Dagon had snarled while hunching his back and lowering his gruesome head. The council watched their Lord; astounded, for never in their lives had they seen him alive with such movement and words. "I summoned you forth because I have a very delicate task for you. It has become clear to me that the Amulet of Kings now resides in the hands of the heir. He travels now down the paths of Cyrodiil guided by his guards and even the Champion and the Scholar of Tamriel."

At his last words, Broga's heart had leapt. His playful smile had fled his face leaving him only in despair. The Commander had straightened his structure soon turning his lively crimson eyes to his Prince. His eyebrows lifted in fright as he had hoped ever so dearly that Elizabeth would not be a part of the Emperor's final journey.

"You and a collection of assassins and mages shall venture forth onto Cyrodiil and hide behind the walls of the Imperial City. Together, you shall all station anchors for Oblivion gates. When the heir enters the heart of the city, the gates shall be thrown open and the wrath of Oblivion shall pour down upon the crown of the empire. As a final blow I shall walk forth unto the land and reek havoc. My name has been shamed by that decietful and prideful Champion of Cyrodiil. By my axe shall he or that montrosity of an heir be slain. By the end of that day you shall hold up the head of the scholar. The harlot is of no use to me anymore. You _will_ annihalate her. Do you understand your orders, Commander?"

Broga's mind was fleeting at the moment for he hadn't expected this of his Prince. By his hands Elizabeth would fall dead and Dagon would walk onto the terrain of Cyrodiil as any other Dremora could? Broga hadn't thought it possible! Mehrunes eyes were fastened upon the Dremora's waiting for his reply. After a moment of considersation, the Commander had bowed accordingly and with a wary and saddened heart, the man had told Dagon, "I shall do as you command, sire. I live to serve you."

"Very good," Dagon purred while bowing his head. He glanced towards the grand doors of his courtroom and beckoned forth the quadrant of mages and assassins that Broga would take into Cyrodiil. They entered the courtroom dressed within blackened robes. In order to disguise them well enough and not to raise much suspiscion, their horns had been torn from their heads and their skin had been colored a woodland green. Elder Xarovica had been the one to fasten them an ointment that would make them appear Dunmer. They stood in two thin lines with their eyes upon Broga. Mehrunes narrowed his eyes and snarled, "My arch-mage, Xarovica, had fashioned you a potion that would allow you to walk freely into the Imperial City just as any other revolting meek human. When inside you shall find a suitable way to get your brethren within the walls."

_A potion? _Broga had questioned himself. Just then, a flash of a memory had come to his mind. He saw a humanoid Xilivicus lying within the sands of Oblivion. Broga's heart fell and he thought quickly, _Am I to be turned… certainly not... Dagon would never approve of that!_ "The sewers are the safest way, milord," Broga had told his Prince while arguing over that certain situation in his mind.

Dagon gave a nod and then continued with the course of the plan, "... when everyone has been snuck within, the assassins will occupy the rooftops while the mages find suitable locations where the gates can be opened. Leave me now, another ranking officer will fashion together troops to send into Cyrodiil."

"Yes, my liege," Broga bowed and quickly turned to leave for the Watch Keep. There he would suit himself and find an anchored archway that would take them to Tamriel. Just as he was to turn and leave he heard his Master's voice beckon him. The Dremora stopped and with a cagy glimpse, he turned his head and looked up at Dagon.

"... fail me again, Commander, and you shall spend the rest of your immortal days locked within a cage of a dungeon; distorted and alone." Dagon spat hatefully.

"Yes, milord," Broga had whispered nervously. With that he quickly made his way out of the room with his troop following quickly upon his heels.

-+-

The commander had made his way back to the watch keep without hesitating. He did not take time to admire the thick frigid atmosphere which he could now embrace without feeling any pain. He could not marvel upon the vast seas of lava that dwelled just beyond the mere speck of land they stood upon. No, he had no time for these things. For he was well on his way to his own grave. Dagon no longer cared for the wellbeing of Broga's Scholar of Tamriel. He merely wanted to justify the situation by bringing down the most loved people of all Cyrodiil. He cared not for the feelings of others he only wanted to rid himself of the anger that had burdened his entire being.

Mehrunes Dagon was not a being you wanted to anger.

If you even as much made his temper rise a meager amount he would send the entire wrath of Oblivion down upon your fragile mortal soul. The Prince of Destruction would not rest until the Champion, the heir, and the Scholar lie broken and defeated beneath the tip of his axe. Broga shuddered at the mere thought of Dagon's wrath falling upon him. Thankfully for all these decades he had served accordingly or at least tried to. There were times where he had failed but he always seemed to prove himself in the end. Hopefully, this time would be just like the others. After he had found himself a suitable change of robes he swiftly made his way down the path to the old Arch-mage's tower. His eyes lingered upon the ebony tips which pierced the heavens. A anxious lump formed within the master's throat; however, he had quickly swallowed it and proceeded with a petite collection of caution. He took long strides up the coiled ramps and kept his eyes before him. Before he had even reached the top he heard a voice beckon out to him which made his muscles contract with a great deal of tension.

"Dear Commander Broga, why do you burden me with your precense?" that aged friendly voice had seemed spiked with annoyance.

Broga rounded the bend and saw the cluttered living space of the Elder. His eyes traveled over the empty vials which collected dust and the books that seemed piled high upon each other forming a great mountain. Broga lingered within the threshold keeping his hands by his side. He stood firm and resolute with his change of robes tightly held in his right hand, the other was idle. "Lord Dagon has…"

"—I know why you're here, Broga, I was just hoping you would leave me be and allow me to do my job" Xarovica cut through while shifting himself up from behind his desk. He closed a book that he had been reading and turned his face upwards. His aged facade seemed stern as he looked upon the younger male. His lips pulled tight across his face as his fiery eyes observed Broga. He had thought the man to be an inch from death… it appeared clearly to him that Dagon had brought mercy upon him in the solution of death. "You're here for the Elixir of Death, well I shall tell you the exact same thing I told the last Dremora who approached me in Dagon's request—potions take time and time is of little essence so you shall have to wait. Give me another hour and I shall have both- poison and potion- made for you. Until then, please leave me be."

The commander stood idle in the threshold of the room as if he hadn't heard a word that the Elder had spoke. His face emotionless as he just stared upon the elder man. Finally after an interval of silence he had said, "… I wish to stay."

"If you stay, commander, then it shall take me even longer to fashion you your dear elixirs." Elder-Xarovica had told him as he shuffled across the floor. He made his way to his bench where he found many different solutions basking in a vile liquid. His eyes observed these two vials and soon he would have to add more ingrediants to these mixtures.

"I could really care less if it takes you days upon end, Xarovica. The longer the better, I believe." Broga had snorted.

"Why the longer? Why the better?" Xarovica tossed his eyes over his hunched shoulder and coiled horn. "I thought you an impatient Dremora… certainly I am not wrong. What has become of your arrogance and cruelty, commander?" The elder man had a sharp tongue and was not worried of the consequences of angering Broga. Despite his age and his appearance Elder-Xarovica was fierce in battle and never in his long-life had he ever been defeated.

Broga had sensed that the arch-mage was deriding him; however, he hadn't time to pick a fight. He was already within a battle he wished he never joined. His brow furrowed and he ignored the remarks easily, "This war is pointless, I wish not to be a part of it. As long as you keep me here within Oblivion I will be safe."

"Safe from what?" Xarovica had scoffed while turning away from his vials and flasks with a look of befuddlement creasing his aged face. "The Great Black Dremora fears for his safety? Not just for his safety—but fears entering Cyrodiil? I thought you feared naught at all?"

"I do _not_ fear," Broga corrected him with a stern gaze. He stepped further into the room while holding tight onto his robes. He could see that he had caught the elder's attention with his words. He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a terrible one. His lips clenched together as he snarled, "Tell me, Elder one, what should I do?"

Xarovica had silenced himself when he began thinking. His mind processing these things attempting to figure out the Dremora's reasoning for not wanting to submit himself fully into this war. His whole life's teachings were that of carnage and revenge. What could possibly alter the motive of his heart? Amber eyes were tossed Broga's way in confusion. Xarovica hobbled himself over to his brethren with a frown creasing his lips, "You don't desire to battle, but you remain in the position of Commander of Dagon's Armies. You do not fear anything and yet you are wary to toss yourself within the gates to Cyrodiil? Your ways are contradicting, Broga. How am I to tell you what to do when I don't even know what the situation is?"

The commander lowered his head allowing his curved ebony horns to raise into the air. His crimson eyes surfed the tiles of the floor and slowly he had looked back up to his Elder who was watching him curiously. Broga's lips tapered but soon became loose as he said, "… surely… you remember the Scholar of Tamriel? Dagon has sentenced her to death and I, the one to serve it accordingly. That is why I wish not to enter Cyrodiil. The longer I remain in Oblivion, the longer she'll have to prevent the seemingly inevitable."

Xarovica furrowed his brow and quickly pivoted himself around. His robes twisted then finally fell customarily across his figure as he hobbled himself to his table side. His long bony hands had scooped up flasks and he glanced within at the contents soon dumping them into the vile mixture trying to finish the Elixirs of Life and Death. Broga glanced over warily soon stepping further into the room. When he had questioned the Elder, Xarovica had turned around and glared at him while telling him simply, "If you remain in Oblivion then your brethren will move on without you. Instead of Elizabeth dying by your hands she dies by anothers. You cannot deny or even ignore the beckoning of Dagon's orders. You will follow through with his plans for his words bore down into your heart and are sheltered there. The painful feelings will consume your mind and soul until you are so overwhelmed that you will do anything to silence the pain—even murder Elizabeth. You shall drink the Elixir of life and with it you shall walk as a man into the Imperial city. You shall open the sewers and guide your brothers out into the city. The mages will remain invisible as they anchor gates in every street. The assassins will murder the guards and possibly even the Champion or the heir. You; however, will find Elizabeth and…" he trailed off in his words.

"… and what?" Broga questioned desperately.

Xarovica furrowed his brow and his lips became a thin line as both he and the commander knew the answer to that. Daedra were made to serve their Princes loyally. The only thing that Broga could do now was make certain that her death was sweet and painless. Broga's broad darkened shoulders slumped as the truth had hit him. His eyes froze over with a film that masked his true emotions. Yes, he would kill Elizabeth. He would bask within her blood and take her dying breath away by the way of his lips. He would cradle her and watch as the life ran from her beautiful sapphire eyes. As the thought had ran deep within the rivers of his mind he began to enjoy the mere thought. He could see her gripping onto his armor lying limply in his burly arms. Her could see her glistening silver hair running over his hands like blood stained ribbons. Her eyes fluttered as she fell in and out of consciousness. Her lips parted and she whispered his name questioningly before she finally fell into the hands of death.

For a mere moment, Broga had felt honored to be the one to murder her. His heart began to swell and his emotions were once again suppressed entirely. Xarovica worked swiftly pouring mixtures into the black vial as well as the crimson one. He was precise and swift as he made the potions; not skipping a beat. For many decades he had been the arch-mage and hadn't failed in making a successful potion. He bottled the mixtures and slid them safetly in a pouch made of Clannfear hide. It was possibly the most durable leather found anywhere upon Cyrodiil or Oblivion. The Elder hobbled over to the commander and handed him the bag. When Broga took it into his hand he tossed his befuddled gaze at Xarovica.

The Elder Dremora shook his head and explained with a plain tone of voice, "… I didn't need an hour to make the potions. I just wanted to get back to my midday nap."

-+-

The breeze rushed down the hillside like a stampede of wild horses charging through the land. The sky was lit with with all sort of colors as if the sky was a canvas and the gods had painted a masterpiece. The sun gave its final farewall and began to nestle itself under a mountain range blanket. The grass below the hills looked like rolling waves of emerald basking under the fleeting rays of the sunlight. Upon the path that was upon the peak of the hill came the two horses of the Asquerana brothers. Their necks arched as they looked down the hill and a large grin came to Daelon's face. His wild untamed raven hair tossed in the breeze like an ebon fire. His neck twisted sideways and he called back to the other travelers. Their eyes fell upon him as he told them, "…the Imperial City is right below us. We'll be there in less then an hour."

Their trip had been exceedingly simple and rather safe for the Blades had cleared the path. They made certain there was nothing blocking Martin Septim's way to the Temple of the One. The elder travelers had rode on to the top of the hill to see for themselves. However, Elizabeth and the Hero had lingered behind. The Altmer had watched her family and her friends with wary eyes. How could Mehrunes not send some sort of force out to hinder them from entering the Imperial City? She had thought he would not admit defeat. Possibly, he knew he would never win.

"Thank the gods we're almost there," the Hero had whispered with a bright charming smile pulling across his lips.

Elizabeth remained silent for a moment, twiddling the reins of the horse in her hands. No, she couldn't be wrong. Paranoia began to settle in her brain and instantly she could feel Broga's precense around her. She could feel his breath and taste the sweat of his smooth solid onyx skin. The bittersweet aroma of bloodied sweat and brimstone lingered in her nose and she nearly choked upon it. _Dibella… Mara… please—don't let him be waiting for me there. Don't let him onto Cyrodiil's verdant peaceful earth. Let this be the end of our journey. I wish not to see him again… never again._

She had snarled this in a prayer. Her narrowed hateful eyes upon the horizon as her horse had trotted forward to where the rest of her band of adventurers were. She glimsped downward upon the complicated majesty of the Imperial City. Each wall loomed into the air, never penetrated by enemy forces nor would it be. Her hands clenched at the reins and for a second she remembered falling into Broga's arms. He held her so tightly and lovingly. He refused to leave her side that entire night until morning came and he was beckoned to war. But no, that side of him was demolished within a fury of anger, lust, and jealously. He was never the man she had dreamed him to be. He was just another commander of Dagon's armies.

Her glistening eyes were tossed down to the hilt of her blade and she felt her heart harden as she knew what she was to do. If Broga appeared within the walls of the Imperial City, it would be by her blade, that he was killed.

_**--TBC--**_

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**_I hope you all enjoyed reading. I'll update faster because I can't wait to write the next chapter. The entire battle in the Imperial City was my favorite part of the main quest. I have a few good ideas and stuff. Please READ and REVIEW! C'mon people, if you read the story up till now you must like it. Grace me with a review. Please, my dear friends? Have a safe weekend! _**


	31. The Great Massacre: Stand or Die

**_Here it is. What everyone has been waiting for. The last chapter and the Battle in the Imperial City. Yes, I know, it's EXTREMELY long. Well, I couldn't stop. And I also didn't want to write two more chapters. So you'll have to deal with it. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Read and Review afterwards. Please, I really would like feedback. There will be an epilogue. It's going to be the next chapter but it's going to be super short. Just gonna fill you in on practically everything that happens after the game. Enjoy, my friends.  
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-+-

In do time, the assassins that Broga had control over had found a suitable gate that was ever so near to the Imperial City. The commander and his troop had approached the towering ebony gate with eyes that marveled at its very essence of beauty. Broga had tilted his head back allowing his eyes to glimpse upon the spiked peaks. Flames were spat from the very mouth of the archway causing a few Dremora to step back in fear of being burned. A coiled whip of flame came from the fiery spiral and struck Broga upon the shoulder. The commander stood motionless and merely glanced to his robes. Billowing smoke rolled into the thickened atmosphere and slowly the commander had lifted his hand and patted out the petite yet growing flare. His serene eyes had lifted and he gave his first order to the troop with a strident and daring tone, "... head off into the land and scout the area. Make certain that the path is clear." He lifted his fist and held it up near his face. With a swift movement he had pointed his middle and index finger forward and his assassins sprinted onward. They ran like streams of water around him. Their footsteps were silent and they were shadows upon the ground soon disappearing within the gate.

One of the lead mages had stepped forward and bowed to its leading commander. His hood drawn and all that was visible from his cowl were his fierce crystal eyes. He bared his jagged teeth and snarled, "... what of us, commander?"

Broga held his gaze upon the archway. His eyes were affectionate and the gaze he held upon such a gate was almost a lover's stare. He tilted his head to a side and told the mage. "You shall wait. When the assassins give their authorization then shall we proceed. We must move silently and surely. I won't allow a mistake in Dagon's final plans."

The Dremora had bowed to his superior and stepped back soon taking his position in the horde of mages. Their robes ran black together and their faces hidden from the daylight. Broga heaved a burdened sigh as he pondered silently to himself. Would he truthfully be able to kill Elizabeth?

He could see her unclothed and wriggling against the wall as he nearly choked upon Xilivicus' distinct stench. He remembered her blade nearly striking him down within Oblivion's great gate. He could still feel the twinge of pain as the poison coursed through his body. Surely he was too large and resolute to be killed by the weakened poison; nevertheless, the ache of glass shredding apart his brow and cheek could not be easily forgotten. Broga's blackened claw lifted to his left eye and he caressed his healed face. Sure enough he had been given a new body, but he had grown accustomed to stroking the scar upon his eye when burdened. His eye slowly opened when his hand withdrew and fell back down to his side.

A few minutes had passed and two assassins leapt through the hellish fire and appeared with an Imperial guard in their tightened grasps. Their lips were pursed and they spoke of naught. Together they had shoved the man forward to bow at their commander's feet. The elder guard had gasped and his gauntlets struck the harsh terrain rather swiftly before he had collided with the ground himself. His head jerked up and he looked at the commander; marveling at his immense structure. Broga's unimpressed eyes were cast down upon the man and he stooped down and seized the fabric to his tunic which was sticking out only barely from his worn and undermined steel armor. The commander used only a meager amount of strength when he had lifted himself and even the Imperial. The man had gasped and squirmed in his grasp soon snatching onto his thickened forearm. The guard tossed his eyes across the troop and finally to the black Dremora who spoke, "... you are a guard of the Imperial city, are you not?" His voice was harsh and demanding which made the man cringe.

The guard's brow furrowed sending wrinkles across his vaguely rose-tinted forehead. The man's misty brown eyes were set upon Broga an elder husky voice coming from the pits of the man's stomach, "What do you want with me?"

"You are of little importance to me, really. The only question that I have that you may be able to answer is how heavily guarded is the Imperial city?" Broga had questioned him with a curled arm. His bicep causing the dark fabric of the robes to pull tight across his skin.

"I shall tell you nothing, demon! Martin Septim will be crowned and Oblivion shall be closed. You cannot prevent the inevitable!" The man had spat into Broga's face.

The commander's emotions were not shown through his stern façade. His grip tightened upon the man's tunic and he sighed heavily. With an annoyed tone he had told the Imperial, "The inevitable can always be changed." He jerked the man upwards and let him go into the air. With swiftness, his hands had flown up and gripped his skull. His blackened hands nearly encased the plump man's entire head. With one formidable yank the guard's neck had been broken and as the Dremora let him go the unresponsive body toppled to the floor and lie limp. Broga's eyes lifted to the assassins and he snarled, "Is it safe to move onward?"

The assassins both bowed before him and that was their response. The commander nodded in acknowledgement and he turned to his mages and told them, "Come, it is time."

-+-

They were silent and moved like the breeze against the trees. Their claws upon the hilts of their weapons as they predicted an attack. They were unseen and approached a hillside soon waving on the second regiment of Broga's troop. When they all came to the peak of the hill they saw that directly southeast of them lay the Imperial City and all its glories. Broga's eyes narrowed and from where he stood he could easily see two entrances to the sewers. He had traveled those paths and knew that within they were a jumble of pipes and underground rivers whose aroma was more rank then that of the decaying bodies lying behind the dungeon's walls. The commander turned to his mages and pointed to the sewer system upon his left, "Travel through there, and stick together. Follow the pipes to the closest manhole you can find. Become shadows and slither through the streets." He pointed to the right and told his assassins, "You lot shall travel that way. All sewer systems run together, find a suitable position and escape. You shall stalk the rooftops. I'll walk upon the surface and keep a close eye upon the heir and his steadfast followers. When they all are compacted in a secluded place I shall walk into the heart of the city and draw my sword. The mages will immediately anchor the gates and the assassins shall tend to the nearby guards. Neither man nor Mer walks from the Imperial City without restraint. Kill the guards of the heir and even the Champion if you must, but leave the woman Altmer alone, she belongs to me."

The troop obeyed their commander and quickly separated. The assassins remained in the darkness of the trees as they traveled down to the shore of the luxurious river. The mages followed each other in a straightened line. They moved gracefully across the verdant earth knowing if they saw any Imperial witnesses or other such folk they would have to deal with them accordingly before the word had spread. Cagily, the assassins had slipped within the water's grasp. They disappeared completely and only resurfaced when they had come to the mouth of the sewers. One Dremora had slithered from the water and with a forceful kick he had broken the seal to the barred door and the assassins disappeared once and for all.

The mages had honed their skills and learned many spells from the scrolls and other such works that were found within Kvatch. With the help of Sigil stones they had enchanted their items in such a way that they were able to walk upon the surface of the water. They rose and fell with the tide and hurriedly they had scrambled across the surface allowing only the tips of their toes to kiss the smooth and composed stream. When they had approached the gate, two Dremora had stepped to either side of the door and together they placed their hands upon the door. A billowing golden mist came from above the door and rolled down the entire exterior. The gate had been unlocked and the mages vanished within the sewers as well. The only Dremora left was the commander and he lingered to make certain there were no mishaps. His eyes lifted to the Imperial City and his heart swelled with both grief and concern. Soon he would be walking down the paved streets as a human and perhaps he would be graced to pass Elizabeth. She would not recognize him; nevertheless, it made his withered black heart flutter with a sudden delight. Soon after that... he would murder her.

The weight of Oblivion yet again was set upon his shoulders. He did not wish to fail his Prince for the price of such tragedy would be unimaginable, and yet, he didn't want to betray his own heart. Never in his everlasting lifetime had he felt this way about another person. He had been absorbed within himself and now he seemed to possess the need to satisfy another being besides his Lord Dagon. The feeling brewing within his very heart... what was it? He had not thought of the name for it and quickly he discarded the thought. Broga leisurely made his way down the path knowing it would take his brigade more then a few minutes to escape to the surface. He had time to spare for the moment. His eyes closed and he inhaled a deep and crisp breath of the fresh air that swirled around him. It filled his lungs and spiked his energy causing him to feel all the more alive. The darkness was rolling in and night soon fell upon the entire city. Torches were lit and their luminance could hardly be seen over the walls. The little children of the city fell deep within the clutches of sleep and mothers and fathers sat wide awake praising the Nine for such a marvelous night to a marvelous day.

Oh, and what a night it would be.

-+-

The time of twenty minutes had passed by like birds soaring overhead. Broga had found a suitable bridge to cross the river and he made his way up the steep incline to the entryway to the Imperial City. His blackened claws dug within the rock and earth and his muscles contracted and he pulled himself up. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple and cheek and soon he arrived to the climax of the mound. He heard the soft ring of metal against metal and Broga quickly leapt forward and hid behind a jutting wall of the Imperial fortress. He silenced his breathing and closed his eyes attempting to calm his nerves. When the commander had turned and looked he saw a single guard passing from the bridge to the Imperial bastion to the city. From his memories Broga had pulled out a single event that had dealings with the bastion. Yes, he remembered now. Xilivicus was imprisoned. He could remember working his assassins into the bastion's fortress which wasn't the easiest of tasks. The guards had certain rounds and they all seemed to flow together. It was nearly impossible for Broga to walk in unnoticed, thankfully one of the assassins knew of a spell to conceal them completely. It had indeed come in handy.

When the Imperial guard slipped through the gapping door, Broga had stepped from his place of hiding. The man breathed slowly trying to calm himself. He wasn't certain how long Xarovica's potion would last or even if it was effective. There was the chance of death as well. But the commander was certain that with his body frame and physical strength that the worst the potion would do was make him ill. One of Broga's hands slowly lifted to the pouch and he dug his hand inside. He kept his eyes upon the paved bridge knowing if he saw another guard he would have to disappear yet again. His heart pulsed in his jagged ears and soon he felt the gentle caress of the glass upon his fingertips. His eyes gradually fell and when he pulled out the potion vial he saw the sinister gleam of the onyx vial. _Will this mere potion make an authentic masquerade or will it also bring forth the desires and emotions I have been muffling all this time? _He hadn't the time to beckon forth an answer from within. He had wasted enough time as it was and he needed to breach the walls and make certain his brethren were safe. The fate of all Oblivion now lay in his hands. Bile swirled in the deepest pits of his stomach and for a moment he did feel ill. But he wouldn't have any of that. His fingertips gripped the dome cap of the vial and he quickly pulled it off and discarded it. A rising fume came from the bottle and Broga began to worry all the more.

But he hadn't time for that.

He hadn't time for anything.

It was now or never. Yes, it was now or never.

With a swift movement he lifted the bottle to his lips and quickly dumped the contents within his mouth. The poison stung his tongue and he had only nearly stomached the taste. His tongue rolled forcing the vile liquid down his throat. It soon constricted and he felt as if he were to vomit. His once sturdy posture now became hunched. The vial dropped and shattered against a rock. The noise echoed out to him and sounded as if the vial was shattered against his head. Broga's hands lifted and covered his mouth as he choked the wretched drink down. Immediately, he felt his bones begin to twist and distort. He muffled an agonizing scream with his hands as pain shot through his arms and legs. His body fell backwards against the wall and this was the only thing propping him up. The Dremora's muscles convulsed and he finally let his hands grip at the stone beside him. His fingernails were shredding themselves apart as he clawed desperately at the limestone. The once long and curved horns that came from the man's temples now retreated ever so slowly and excruciatingly back inside his head. It tore his skin apart and caused blood to rush down the side of his face. The poison became a purifying peroxide that had burned away the blackness of the monster's skin. His flesh became spotted and gradually the poison that ran through his veins had reached every part of him now. He leaned his glistening sweaty brow against the wall as the ache finally began to subside. He breathed heavily and allowed a moment for his skin to restore itself. His sleeve was hoisted up and with it he had wiped away the sweat and blood that had become of his face.

_I... I think it is finished. _He had whispered to himself as he weakly pushed himself from the wall. His hands lifted to his hood and he drew it back soon exposing his mask to the world. The sweet breeze of the night blew over his face and he basked within the delight of such a refreshing wind. His heart pulsed madly beneath his chest. He couldn't tell what he looked like; however, he was certain to find out sooner of later. Broga's hands lifted to his hood and he pulled it back up and just as he was to lower his hands he glimpsed upon his skin. His eyes blinked hurriedly and he was almost frightened at it. He had very pale skin, or at least it was much paler then he had been used to. His right hand had forced back the long bagged sleeve of his left and he glimpsed down upon his arm. His eyes scanned the smooth surface of his sallow skin. He flipped his arm over and looked upon the delicate skin of his underarm. Yes, he was positive that the poison had worked effectively. Broga lowered his sleeve and moved out into the moonlight. His head tilted back and he gazed upon the bright silver moon. Its rays fell upon him and nearly blinded his new eyes. He lifted an arm and covered his face as he adjusted to the rays. His arm lowered and his dark blue eyes finally focused.

Yes, what a night this would be.

Broga turned to the doors and he hoisted them open soon walking in as any other man would. He disappeared within the darkness and at last he was within the walls of the Imperial City. Dagon's plan was succeeding efficiently.

-+-

The doors to the Talos plaza district were pulled back by two guards who held their heads high as both the Champion of Kvatch and the heir to the Septim throne walked in upon the Imperial City's paved ground. Soon the heir would light the Dragonfires and this everlasting war would soon be over. A few people had collected upon the streets to marvel at the people who have served Cyrodiil by closing Oblivion gates, fighting upon the battlefield at Bruma, and even putting their lives upon the line while protecting the only heir to the Septim throne.

"... It feels so good to be off those horses," Elizabeth had whispered to the Hero who was close by her side.

He grinned down at her and nudged her playfully, "Try riding all across Tamriel, you wouldn't be complaining so much about one horse ride from Bruma to here."

Jerald glanced across the buildings and streets of the plaza soon taking the wizard's staff from his back and holding it tightly within his grasp. He walked forward with the flat wooden end pressed upon the ground, using the staff itself as almost a support for him. "The sooner we get Martin to the Temple of the One, the better."

"For the most part, Martin must go to see Chancellor Ocato prior to heading to the Temple," Jaufree had informed the Altmer wizard while tossing him a glance. "I'm certain that Ocato would be rather worried of us and his anxiety won't cease unless we see him. That and he would be honored to be there as Martin lights the Dragonfires."

Martin chuckled lightly and ran a hand through his light brunette tresses. His worn crystal eyes closed for a mere moment as he had said delicately, "I don't know if I'll ever get used to all this Emperor business, I still can't believe that this is happening to me."

The Hero stepped forward and placed a gauntlet upon Martin's fine royal purple robes. A grin pulled to his lips and he told him, "You'll get used to it, eventually, sire."

Martin laughed and let his shoulders slump as a weak smile played across his face, "Yes, well, hopefully."

As Jerald, Jaufree, and Martin moved forward down the street, Daelon had shifted his way through the crowd and soon wrapped an arm around his sister. Elizabeth's brow rose curiously and right as she turned to her elder brother he had embraced her lovingly. His arms held her tightly and he placed his head against her own with a wide grin. "Can you believe that we are a part of this all? I never thought... all this could happen to the Asquerana family. Mother would love to be here."

When Daelon withdrew, Elizabeth smiled and walked with him down the street. Her younger brother to her right while her older was to her left. It had been a while since she had saw Orrick. When she turned to look at him she felt so much pity and sorrow become of her. His once fine hair now a mess upon his head. Below his eyes were darkened circles and he hardly looked like he had the strength to make this long and trifling journey. Elizabeth had nudged Orrick and when she had caught his attention she asked him, "...how are you holding up, my dear brother?"

Orrick smiled weakly and nodded as he replied, "It is hard traveling without Caldwyn by my side. It is very uncanny that... that I'm alone this often now. But I am certain that wherever he is that he's looking down over us and is so proud."

The Altmer maiden grinned and placed a comforting hand upon her brother's back, "I bet out of all of us, Caldwyn is most proud of you."

Orrick laughed weakly and shook his head, "No, I doubt that." When his eyes lifted he looked to his sister and told her, "He was always amazed at how you went into the Oblivion gates. He found it even more marvelous that... that you fell in love with a Daedra. You were possibly the best sibling he could ever ask for. You've brought honor to our entire family, Elizabeth. I'm so glad that you're here with us this time."

"Yes, I'm glad, too." She had told him.

Daelon and Orrick had moved ahead when the Hero had fallen back in the group. Elizabeth grinned brightly up at the man and with a heaved breath she said, "You've become the talk of all Cyrodiil, my dear friend. You've closed Oblivion gates, you've saved Kvatch and Bruma, and now you walk side by side with the heir to the throne and he declares that he is forever within your debt. After all this, what do you plan to do?"

The Hero had chuckled at her words and one of his arms had lifted and wrapped around her shoulder soon pulling her closer. A few people within the streets that had been watching began to whisper to one another at sight of this. The Imperial man had pursed his lips and for a moment he thought and when the answer had come to him he turned to Elizabeth and grinned, "I plan on recommending you as the new Countess of Kvatch. I'm sure that shall clear up the debt that Martin owes me."

"Oh," Elizabeth gasped while looking up at him, her eyes wide with excitement, "Oh, you shouldn't! I... I wouldn't make a good countess."

"Yes you will," he argued while placing a good-humored glare upon his face. His eyes tossed forward and then he said, "After that... I believe Kvatch will be in need of a head of guard who will be able to care for them appropriately. I nominate myself for that position or possibly," he gave her a side glance as he proposed his next idea, "... a Count... to be by the Countess's side."

The Altmer's lips slowly coiled up in a broadening smile as he had said this. She couldn't exactly help herself even if she had tried. A vague blush came to her cheeks and she teasingly said, "Yes, well I'm certain that you would make a lovely Count, but a Count needs to be well-behaved and intelligent. I don't believe you are either, really."

He laughed and bowed his head, "I didn't know you could be so hurtful, Elizabeth."

The two laughed together and continued walking down the path, side by side. Far before them were the leaders of the group. Jerald had tossed his eyes back and to his daughter. From in front of him he heard Jaufree coo, "... I believe I hear wedding bells in the distant future."

Jerald came to attention and whirled his head around. His thick eyebrows fell over his eyes as he had questioned the Master Blade, "Elizabeth and our young Hero?"

Martin nodded and with Jaufree he had agreed, "It looks like your daughter will be taking one of my best guards away from me, Lord Asquerana," Martin quickly glanced to his side and told Baurus, "besides you of course, my dear friend."

Baurus grinned brightly and laughed, "Thank you, sire."

Martin looked back again to see the Hero and Elizabeth smiling. He then tossed his eyes to Jerald and inquired, "You are the last remaining wealthy family of Kvatch, Jerald. Have you given it any thought that you and your wife would be the next in line for Count and Countess of Kvatch?"

"We've thought over it, but we're getting rather old as it is. Kvatch needs fresh youthful leaders to guide her into glory. Someone like..."

"Like, Elizabeth and our Hero?" Martin had asked with a blissful smile. "We can't truly avoid the plan of the gods, Jerald. From what I've been observing over the last few days is a very strong bond forming between your daughter and the Grand Hero of Kvatch."

"He would make a perfect addition to your family," inputted Jaufree. "I've watched him mature and grow throughout this entire journey, my friend. He has the heart of a true Hero and he is very loyal to the thing he loves the most."

Baurus laughed and glanced back to the Altmer wizard while telling him, "Sure, he was imprisoned before he joined together with the Emperor, but we've all done things we're not proud of."

Jerald lowered his head and with a gentle voice he agreed, "Yes, we have."

-+-

"Have they entered the city?"

The mage bowed to his officer and told Broga softly, "They entered through the western side, sir. The assassins have stationed themselves perfectly on the rooftops. The moon is becoming clouded and for that reason the assassins are hardly noticeable."

"Good then," Broga had said as he glanced around the corner. He stood within a petite garden where the mages had surfaced from the sewers. The coast was clear, but he knew not for how long.

The head mage narrowed his eyes and said, "Sir, in which division of the city shall we anchor the gates?" His voice a mere whisper now in the shades.

Broga turned and looked at the mage and told him, "The heir travels to the place known as 'The Temple of the One'; in this district you will station your gates in every street. When I give the signal, you will secure the gates and Lord Dagon shall exude his whole wrath upon this piteous metropolis."

The mage bowed and quickly beckoned forth the rest of his regiment that lay beneath the city. Broga turned and gave a glimpse either way down the narrow corridors. He still saw no guard. By the second he began to wonder how this city still stood. The guard seemed mindless and insignificant. When the mages were all surfaced, Broga turned back to them and told them. You shall use your magicka and make certain that no one sees you. Find the district. Anchor the gates. That is your objective."

The mages bowed respectfully and within a gust of green they all vanished into nothingness. Broga narrowed his eyes and quickly escaped onto the streets of the Market District. The fastest was to get to this 'temple' would be through the center of the city. His head pivoted from left to right and finally he had made his way to the southern door. This would take him to Green Emperor Way.

-+-

From the Talos Plaza district, the doors to Green Emperor Way had opened. Baurus and Jaufree had walked in first with Jerald, his sons, and Martin soon following. The last to come were Elizabeth and the Hero. As they walked past the many graves before the Council Chambers, Elizabeth had looked upon most of them and wondered to herself; _how many of you lost your lives protecting Cyrodiil?_ Her hands were folded before her and she stood with elegance and a proper stance. A hand had lifted to her neck and her fingertips meant to stroke the soft glistening golden necklace she used to wear, but, alas, it was not there. Her brow furrowed and she remembered that the necklace was tossed within the magma of Oblivion to rest by her lost lover. _Xilivicus... _she whispered, _how I miss you so. _

Her somber eyes were cast forward and Martin ascended the stairs with Jaufree. Pacing before the entrance to the Elder Council chambers was Captain Steffan. His eyes had shifted to a side and he saw Martin and Jaufree approaching. Immediately, he made his way to them and bowed reverently. "Chancellor Ocato is waiting for you inside, sire."

"Thank you," Martin had bid him with a smile.

As Elizabeth and the Hero ascended the stairs, the maiden had closed her eyes for a mere moment. It had been a tiresome journey and she was glad that it was almost at its end. She couldn't wait to embrace sleep in a luxurious and comfortable bed within one of the taverns. Suddenly, when the thought came to her mind she could see a more or less nude Hero lying with her. Her head resting upon one of his arms while the other draped across her stomach.

"Pardon me."

Without delay, the peaceful vision of the Hero and herself had dissipated and she saw those two crimson eyes that scorched her very soul. She leapt in surprise and quickly opened her eyes to see a Nordic man attempting to make his way through. A smile had graced her lips and she laughed quickly feeling a little embarrassed, "I'm sorry."

Broga could hardly stand here this close to her without feeling the need to harm her in some way. He could feel his hand lingered over the hilt of his Dremora longsword which was fastened onto his hip beneath his robes. No, he would have to wait. Killing her here would only result in his own death. He smiled as well and watched as the maiden stepped back to let him through. "Thank you, miss."

Just as he was to pass, Elizabeth frowned and asked him, "Excuse me, sir," the Nord stopped and looked back at her, "have we met before?" She examined his fairly familiar façade with curious eyes. He had a strong chin and a straight hooked nose as well as thick black eyebrows that fell over dark sapphire diamond shaped eyes. From beneath his hood she could see a coiling raven strand of hair; however, it was somewhat difficult to see the _precise_ details of his face.

The Hero cast his eyes this way to see the Nord man for himself. The man had looked like any other Nord passing through the city to get home to his lovely wife. He couldn't really see any familiarity in his face. Broga had chuckled while forcing a charming smile to his lips. He shook his head and told Elizabeth easily, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, miss."

"Oh," Elizabeth sighed while smiling weakly, "Have a safe night then, sir."

Broga waved to her and turned his back with a smirk pulling across his face. Even from the darkness of his hood there seemed to be a crimson gleam in his eyes. A gleam for the massacre and downfall of Cyrodiil that was soon to come. _Elizabeth, my dear, may I ask... could you smell my sweat upon you even after the dream?_ He rounded the corner with a dark chuckle erupting from his coiled lips as he made his way to the Temple District.

-+-

The doors to the Elder Council Chambers were hoisted open by two Imperial Palace guards. They both bowed before the heir and watched in amazement as he traveled into the round room where the Chancellor was waiting. The Hero of Kvatch by his right and to his left was Jaufree and Baurus. The Asquerana family had shifted themselves to a side as they watched the events roll out. The Chancellor was an elder Altmer man, just like Jerald, who stood tall and proud of himself as every other High Elf usually did. A grin pulled across his face and he kneeled down before the heir as he approached them, "Martin Septim, by the power of the Council I claim you—"

Elizabeth heard a faint cry from outside the council chambers and she quickly turned to the door with narrowed eyes. _What could that possibly_...

"Chancellor Ocato! Chancellor Ocato!" A guard had rushed into the chambers nearly slipping upon the marble floor. His face was a pasty white hidden behind a helmet. He saw Martin Septim and nearly had the urge to fall before him and beg pardon for his interruption; however, this was a grave message.

The Chancellor stepped forward and told the man to calm down and take a breath. The Guard had done so and when he had compiled himself he told the entire group hastily, "Oblivion Gates have opened inside of the city, Chancellor Ocato. Daedra are running the streets! The guard is overwhelmed."

"Be still, soldier," Ocato had said very serenely. He folded his arms and told the guard, "The emperor stands before you," The Altmer turned to Martin and asked him, "What are your plans, sire?"

"I am not emperor just yet," Martin had corrected with a furrowed brow. "The only hope we have is getting to the Temple of the One..."

"It must be done fast, milord," the guard had wheezed with a solemn face, "for I do not think the guard can hold them much longer."

-+-

"Madman!" the fallen guard snarled, "H-how... can you betray Cyrodiil like this?!"

Broga grinned ever so vibrantly while taking his stretched sleeve and wiping his sword free of blood. The sinister spikes of the longsword caught hold of the dark toffee fabric and tore it. This hadn't bothered the commander much, "Dear man," Broga had said in a singsong way, "who ever said I was with Cyrodiil in the first place?"

The fallen guard had struggled to reach his weapon, but Broga hadn't given him much time to do so. The heavy boot of the Nord lifted and fell upon the man's chest soon pinning him to the ground. Broga lifted his sword and with a great thrust he sent his sinister fang through the steel of the guard's helmet and the sturdy frame of his bone. Blood erupted from the guard's head and he lie limp. This bittersweet liquid collected in a pool around his body ever so quickly. Broga forced his foot down upon the man's head and jerked his sword which was wedged between brain and splintered bone. A splatter of blood had struck his face and the man only grinned more vividly. His human heart raced beneath his chest and he never felt more alive then now.

His assassins had leapt from the buildings and picked the guards off rather simply. Severed heads and limbs lie in the streets as the mages anchored the gates. The paved streets quaked and twin spines erupted from the earth soon forming an archway. Hellfire swirled within and before the guard could do much of anything the Daedra had poured out upon the streets. A few men ran in fear of the towering onyx bodies of the Spider-Daedra who leapt upon their prey and with their long dark claws shredding their armor as well as their skin. The Daedroth feasted like kings upon the straggling plump Imperial men who could not make it to home. Broga watched the carnage unfold and he felt ever so pleased to be the one to deliver the first strike. Cyrodiil would fall before his feet this day, and soon the new kingdom for Mehrunes Dagon would arise from its ruins.

-+-

Just as the Elder Council chamber's doors were opened, the Hero and Martin were greeted with a bombardment of Daedra. The dark warriors had attacked the Imperial Palace guards who could hardly hold their own against such brute force. The strength and stance of the guards slowly crumbled into nothing. Their armor was penetrated by the wicked blades of the Daedra and soon the guards began to fall. Everyone fastened their eyes upon such a mortifying event. The Hero had glimpsed up and immediately saw a Spider-Daedra. He ripped his sword from its sheath and just as the wicked arachnid had leapt over the combating Daedra and guards; he had stepped forward and swung his sword before her soon slicing through her neck. Muscles and ligaments were torn and bones were shattered within her neck. Blood had erupted from the open gash and fell down upon the Hero like crimson rain. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he ripped the sword from her and allowed her bleeding carcass to fall lifelessly to the soiled pavement.

"How are we going to get to the Temple of the One? These Daedra seem to be everywhere!" snarled Chancellor Ocato who had torn his enchanted staff from his back.

Elizabeth tore the katana from its sheath and rushed forward soon embracing a fight with a Kynreeve. The Dremora was taken by surprise when the Altmer had shoulder blasted him down the granite steps. He toppled down easily having the weight of his armor to toss him off balance. When he had risen he had thrusted his sword hastily into the air for the maiden gave him no time to resituate himself. The Akaviri and Dremora swords clashed together sending a chime ringing throughout the air. The arms of the Altmer and even the Daedra shook as they could hardly hold off one another. Suddenly, Elizabeth had lifted a foot and kicked the Daedra harshly upon the chest. He fell over yet again and this time Elizabeth did not let him move an inch. She leapt forward and buried the tip of her sword in his armor. With all her strength applied it had pierced the strange metal and soon pierced his heart. The Dremora lie in defeat.

Daelon gasped and sprinted forward soon ripping out his own sword. He called out his sister's name and just as she turned around she could see a great bulk overwhelm her. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back soon seeing a great battleaxe heave through the air ready to split her skull in half. Just as the axe came down, Daelon had leapt between his sister and the Daedra and he held his blade up and struggled to block. The impact of the axe had sent a ring through his arms nearly making him let go of the sword. However, before this tingling sensation had overpowered the Altmer, Elizabeth had ducked below her brother's raised arms and thrusted the sword upward; just between the small gap of the helmet and armor. A sickening slice had sounded off and blood rolled from the gap of the helmet and down the sword. Daelon withdrew his arms and stood back soon watching the Dremora fall.

The Hero, Jaufree, and Baurus had submitted themselves to combat as well. They stood as a barrier protecting Martin. Orrick had pulled back the string of his bow and shot an advancing Clannfear straight in the head. He grinned and soon was attacked from behind. The Altmer fell to the ground with a grunt finding that a second Clannfear was upon his back. The monster lifted its claws to tear within the man, but soon a brightened blue shock of lightning erupted through the air and struck the Clannfear. The mere power of the magicka had forced the Clannfear forward. It was a critical hit.

Orrick whipped his head around and smiled soon seeing his father with the magic staff pointed his way. His eyes were livid now with the sense of war. He had been within war long ago and for so long he hadn't even picked up a weapon. Its power seeped into his skin and coursed through his veins. He smirked and whipped around soon knocking the bulbous part of the staff against a Daedric mage's head.

Daelon and Elizabeth stood side by side in battle. One protected and the other one had attacked. They moved systematically and were precise with their swords. Soon, the area of Green Emperor way had been cleared. But for how long, they did not know. Everyone had joined back together and they made a formation soon leading Martin to the Temple district where the Temple of the One awaited them, as well as Broga and his troops.

-+-

Broga wrapped a hand around a guard's mouth and forcefully he had jerked his head back and plunged his sword through the man whose back had faced him. An entanglement of organs and skin dangled upon the sword soon falling off to the ground. Certainly this would be a feast for another Clannfear. The crazed Nord dropped the body and let the sword fall to his side. The man's hood had fallen now and his long waved raven locks fell around his face. Most of them were drenched with another's blood or even his own sweat. His face glistened in the fire that had consumed most of the buildings surrounding this spiritual sanctum that the heir would attempt to hide within. Dagon soon would walk upon Cyrodiil's earth. Lighting the Dragonfires would soon become useless.

Two doors were nearly burst from their hinges and Broga gradually shifted his eyes over to see just who he was waiting for. From the darkness of Green Emperor Way came the heir and his loyal zealots. A smirk coiled over his lips and a plan had unfolded ever so sweetly within his mind. It poisoned his thoughts and for a moment it was all that he could think about. His narrowed crystallized eyes fell to the stained tip of his sword and swiftly he lifted it to his unoccupied hand. With one gentle caress he took much of the blood off the sword and put it upon his fingertips. He rubbed this bittersweet crimson liquid over his face causing him to look dirtied, startled, and even to go as far as injured. With his mighty hands he tore apart the fabric of his robes. The shredded fabric screamed out into the air. His eyes fastened upon Elizabeth who stumbled onto the broken pavement of the street. Her eyes were wide with sorrow and defeat as she saw the great and beautiful Imperial City fall before Dagon's feet bloodied and broken. Her shoulders had fallen and her lips parted as she could only muster an inquiry to the gods. Broga was certain that she asked them; why did you betray us?

The once-Dremora chuckled as he slipped away down the street unharmed by Daedra and human alike. For the humans were ignorant enough to think he was a Nord. Luckily, the Daedra had known of his plan and could easily distinguish him from this human lot of waste. Broga slipped down a side passage and hurriedly rounded the corner seeing Septim's troupe standing befuddled and astonished that the great walls of the Imperial City could not keep the Daedra out. Upon his way, Broga had consumed the mere essence of a mortal. His eyes were large with unanswered questions, his teeth were gritted and he even went as far as to make himself look like a gimp. He stumbled with every step. His breathing rash. His eyes shifting. And his façade terrified. One of the troupe members had given a glance down the corridor and quickly advanced into a fighting stance. As the commander had drawn nearer he had wondered to himself if he had been figured out. Could they have seen past this sheep's skin? Could they see the wolf that lie beneath all these lies?

"Look there, it's no enemy to us," Jerald had scolded his youngest son, "Lower your weapon."

Orrick narrowed his eyes and done as his father had commanded. The Hero and Elizabeth had both tossed their eyes over to see the Nord. Elizabeth had shifted herself through the crowd and quickly made her way over to him. As Broga had tossed his eyes down her body he had seen the blood of his brothers stain her clothing. The aroma of death lingered within the fragrance of her silver tresses. True that the commander was slightly unnerved at this; however, he kept true to his appearance. He held the mask tightly to his face forcing all to believe he was what he had pretended to be. Elizabeth had held securely upon the hilt of her blade as she tossed her eyes up to Broga. They searched his own and he could see the horror and terror that was hindered within those sapphire pools. "Are you alright?" She had asked him desperately as if his matter of health was actually important.

_Pace yourself, _Broga had whispered within his own ear with a snarl, _pace your words. Keep true to your image. Don't lower the veil._ He tossed his eyes across the group then back to Elizabeth soon nodding frantically. He masked his voice with grief and strife, "… I… I'm fine. What of you?"

The maiden nodded and glanced back to her family and friends, "We're all accounted for." She had said elusively.

_Not for long, my little whore. _He snarled. He felt the hand on his sword begin to quake and he quickly suppressed the urge. Oh, how he longed to finish this. With her death he had hoped all these wretched feelings for her would cease. Elizabeth had turned her back to Broga and the commander and this urge was aroused all the more. The faded wildflower aroma of her locks had fluttered through the air and struck him callously in the face. He succumbed for a moment and closed his eyes soon inhaling slowly. When he had opened his eyes he had watched Elizabeth cautiously even though the Hero spoke.

"There is no way we can get to the Temple of the One without risking someone's life. We must clear out the streets as much as we can before we proceed." The Hero had told Martin stridently soon turning to face the Temple whose walls were mercifully still in tact.

"Our friend is right," Martin had wheezed while glancing to Jaufree. Sweat dampened his brow as he told the Grandmaster Blade, "A reckless move to plunge ourselves through these streets will leave to a very unfortunate ending for us all. We must make haste, but step with caution."

"Yes, sire," Jaufree had bowed discretely and turned to everyone else, "Daelon and Orrick, you two shall stick together. Wonder the western end of the backstreets. May your blade strike true."

The Asquerana sons were quick to obey and hurriedly they had made their way to the western street where Broga had arrived from. They rushed past him without a glance. Their weapons clutched tightly in their hands and their feet trudging across the ground very lightly. The commander watched them and bid them a sweet farewell as he knew that his assassins would make short work of them.

"Jerald and Baurus, I am certain you both have had your dealings with war and do not want to submit yourselves again into its horrifying events; however, I shall need you two as well as the Hero of Kvatch to travel forward in the main streets. Station yourselves accordingly and hold back the hordes as much as you can. If needed I shall join you."

"What of me, Jaufree?" Martin had purred with desperate eyes. "I cannot just stand here and watch as you all throw yourselves into death's hands!"

"We've gotten this far with you, Martin; I won't allow them to kill you now. If you fall then all of Tamriel falls with you. You're too important, I'm sorry, but you must hide for now."

Martin was reluctant; nevertheless, there was not much he could do. Jaufree's plans had never gone astray in the past and the heir to the throne was smart to stick to them. With a bowed head Martin had agreed.

Jaufree had turned to Broga and told him, "You are lucky to have escaped death, my friend. I know it is not of my place to ask you; nevertheless, I believe your assistance might aid us. Travel forth with Elizabeth down the eastern backstreets. If all is well will you help defend the main streets?"

Broga's heart was racing beneath his chest as he had heard this. A maniacal laughter had burst out within him as Jaufree had spoke. He could hardly stifle a broadening grin upon his pale lips. He bowed humbly and told Jaufree with a tone coated with lies, "I would be honored to serve at the command of the heir to the throne."

Martin weakly smiled and said, "Thank you for your troubles—I know it is much to ask you to fight but…"

"It is no trouble, sire," Broga had said respectfully. He could hardly believe how incompetent and naïve they all were. Mere specks of wastes walking before him. He knew of their ending. He knew that it would not be long until they all fell down before Dagon's feet. Oblivion would rise from the bloodied ashes of old-Tamriel. _Make no mistake of that,_ Broga chuckled.

The Hero felt envious of this strange Nord for he had wished to walk and even fight beside Elizabeth. He had only savored the astounding swordsman skills of the Altmer for a mere moment. He wished to observe her combat ability even more. Jerald and Baurus beckoned the Hero and he swiftly made his way into the main street knowing the risk was far greater then he had ever encountered. Jaufree had bid luck to the Altmer maiden and quickly he had left with Martin to find him a place to disappear until it was time for him to make his way to the Temple of the One.

Elizabeth turned to the Nord and heaved a burdened sigh soon asking him with a meek smile, "May I inquire your name before we head off?"

_Dammit! _He cursed while looking upon her with the same painted smile. _All this time and I hadn't fashioned myself a name. I know naught of any human names. Think swiftly. Think. Damn you, wench... _He cursed her name many a time over wondering if he should simply kill her now. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple and from the depths of his mind he could hear an Imperial woman call out for her husband. Yes, they were in Kvatch. He had attacked the man and heard his wife pleading his name. What was it then? What was... "Gaston..." he had answered her after a moment of silence.

Elizabeth grinned and quickly walked to the eastern street soon telling him her own name, "Elizabeth—I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances..." her eyes fell to his side and she questioned, "Do you have a weapon?"

Broga nodded and replied while gripping onto the hilt of his sword, "Yes."

"Good," Elizabeth and the commander disappeared in the darkness.

-+-

The eastern streets were unoccupied by either guard or Daedra, the buildings that stood and overwhelmed the Nord and Altmer had taken most of the noise from the main streets. All that was heard now was the distant crackling of a fire and the devastated cries of human and Mer. Broga followed silently behind Elizabeth, his eyes fastened upon her sweat drenched hair. For every step he took she only needed two instead of three. Broga narrowed his eyes and slowly the memory of her dream had flooded his vision. He saw her beautiful elegant figure glide down the castle bridge and from her shadow he rose like a phoenix from its ashes. The only question upon his mind now was this;

When do I kill her?

Elizabeth's eyes shifted in front of her as she waited for an invisible force to strike. As they walked onward the crackling of fire became much more thunderous. A roar of thunder sounded off above them and a blazing buildings side finally gave in to death. The limestone and wood crumbled into nothing soon plummeting through the air. Sparks flew into the atmosphere nearly blinding the night as the remnants plunged down overhead. Broga was aware of this and his eyes leapt up. The shine of fire glistened in his eye's reflection soon alighting his soul. "Look out!" he snarled while wrapping his arms around Elizabeth and jerking her backwards. He turned her to a side and closed his eyes as the wood and rubble tumbled down. A vociferous bellow of breaking limestone sounded off as well as billows of ash and fluttering embers rolling away from the scene.

Broga held the maiden tightly to him. He felt her back heave against his chest and for a moment the Imperial City had melted away and he was in the Watch Keep with her. The night had lingered and watched as the maiden fell asleep upon the Dremora's chest. Broga could feel his lips kiss hers when he had laid her to rest upon that sleeping slab. His heart began to race in his chest as his movement was hindered by these thoughts. His mouth was slightly agape as he breathed watching Elizabeth intently. His feeling to murder her didn't seem all excessively potent at this precise moment. The Altmer turned in his arms and looked at the massive collision of fire and earth. Her eyes widened and she looked up to Broga and smiled, "You saved my life!"

_Gaston saved your life._ The Dremora had snarled to himself. He felt guilt and dishonor pull at his heartstrings making him become weak. He lied to himself many a time until he had forgotten about the incident. _But Broga... will end it. _The man frowned and told her solemnly, "... I... I presume I did."

Elizabeth slipped from his grasp and frowned soon seeing that the way was blocked. Her shoulders slumped and she said, "Neither human nor Daedra would travel back here now. I suppose the eastern streets have been purified."

"Shall we now regroup now?" Broga questioned.

"We must," said she, "I'm certain that my family and the Hero would need extra help. Let us hope that Dagon does not have more in store for us."

_Oh, if you only knew._ Broga hissed as he once again followed Elizabeth.

-+-

The Hero snarled and jerked his head away as the Daedroth upon him attempted to bite off his head. Its ghastly mouth hoisted open and an aroma emitted from its jaws nearly causing the Imperial to gag. His eyes clenched and he pushed even harder upon his sword which was the only thing holding back this monster. After a moment or two, Orrick had run up. He swung the bow onto his back and removed two identical Elven daggers from his belt. These daggers had formerly belonged to his fallen brother.

The Altmer leapt up and slammed down the daggers into the monster's shoulders. The Daedroth had bellowed in agony as Orrick had took his feet off the ground and allowed his weight to force the daggers to rip through the thick hide of the monster. Blood oozed from the freshly torn scales. The Monster stumbled backwards which in turn had given the Hero time to leap to his feet. With one mighty thrust the Hero had sent the wicked tip of his blade through the monster's agape and gruesome jaws. The sturdy tip had slipped between the roof of the Daedroth's mouth and into the brain of the beast.

Orrick had lifted his feet and placed them upon the beast's back. With a great kick the Daedroth fell forward and the daggers were no longer wedged in its back. Orrick fell to the ground with a strident thump. The Hero sheathed his sword and offered his hand to the young Altmer with a grin, "Thank you."

Orrick weakly smiled and took his hand soon standing. He brushed himself off and welcomed the knight. From afar he had heard the hoarse voice of his father, "If you _don't_ mind... we would like some help over here!" bellowed Jerald whose staff had nearly been shattered from a Dremora blade.

The Altmer and Imperial charged over hurriedly helping the wizard. Baurus had laughed triumphantly as he had spun around soon slicing a thin line in a mage's neck. He grinned and sighed, "There's nothing like the sound of gasping enemies falling in defeat!"

"Yes, well, don't allow arrogance to encase you," Jerald had hissed while swinging his staff around to knock a pursuing Clannfear off its feet. The Blade and wizard became back to back as they fought off more then just one horde of Daedra.

"Duck," Baurus had demanded.

Jerald hurriedly hunched over in time for Baurus to whip his arm around slicing a Clannfear within the eyes; blinding it. Jerald had raised and with a great surge of magicka he had blasted the Clannfear backwards. The elder Altmer smirked and glanced over his shoulder with a furrowed brow a single silver strand of his hair falling before his face, "... Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Baurus had managed to say before a Spider-Daedra had leapt at him.

All of a sudden, a great tremor had run through the pavement of the Temple district. Many Daedra and human had nearly fallen from such a great quake. The paved streets were rippled and the limestone shattered easily. The once midnight blue sky had turned a sinister maroon lined with bloodied streaks. Thunder cried out and lightning rained down upon the Imperial City fracturing the buildings and starting untamed infernos. A sweep of coldness ran over the back of Jerald and as he heaved a breath he saw a billowing puff of mist. His eyes narrowed and he turned around; curiously. Darkness had encased most of the Temple district as Dagon had stepped from an Oblivion gate. His immense structure towered into the air; his horns piercing the heavens. The gods anguish sounded off in the distant roll of thunder. Jerald felt himself go weak in the arms, his staff soon falling from his once tightly clenched hands. His eyes widened and his gaze shifted before him as he stared up; enthralled. "God's blood..." Jerald managed to utter.

Suddenly, he gasped and his body convulsed as the wicked blade of a Dremora longsword was plunged through his back; the tip protruded through his chest. Jerald's mouth fell open and with a final breath he had coughed up a spurt of blood. The sword was ripped backwards and more blood was forced through the Altmer's mouth. He attempted to turn to see his attacker, but he had no time left. His body toppled over to the ground; lifeless.

Elizabeth and Broga had rounded the corner and just as she was to exit upon the street she had caught sight of Dagon.

She stopped.

A petrifying shiver ran down her spine hindering her movement. Her eyes widened and the white of her eyes was ever so vast. With this sudden newfound fear, her shoulders had fallen and her skin ran of color. Appall had overcome her and her mouth fell open as she could only stare in awe. As Broga had saw his Lord standing upon the streets, he had ripped out his sword and quickly approached Elizabeth. His sword lifted and he wrapped his arm around her soon holding the sword to her neck. His unoccupied hand had seized her arms and held them forcefully behind her back. A gasp had escaped her lips and she cringed in pain as she could feel her muscles pull in her arms. She shifted and snarled, "...Gaston—what is the meaning of..."

Broga had gripped her arms tighter allowing the façade to fall. His mask had fallen to the ground and shattered. His deep ruthless voice had snarled into her curved ear, "Can you sense it, Elizabeth? Does it still _linger_ upon your thighs and chest?"

Her attempts to struggle this crazed Nord had stopped and slowly she became motionless. That divergent voice—it had seemed so fallacious now that she thought of it. Chills ran through her skin and she whispered to him with a voice that dreaded the answer, "...what are you talking..."

"Castle Kvatch at midnight..." his slithering voice had infested itself within her mind, "only you and your shadow and no one was around." Elizabeth's face grew hardened with dismay and a sob began to awaken deep within her as he snarled hatefully into her ear, "you told me to stop... you _pleaded_, and perhaps if _that_ doesn't jog your memory," the hand which had seized her arms had freed itself and slid across her side and down to her abdomen.

"B-Broga," she wheezed reluctantly. She wished it wasn't true. She wished it was someone else. Let it be a reincarnate of Mankar Camoran, or maybe... maybe something far worse. Her heart had feared this. It nearly shattered at his name. His touch sent needles within her pores. "Broga... it... it can't be—you."

The Nord glanced at her silver tresses. Oh, how beautiful they looked in the firelight. His deep cobalt eyes fell to her curved sallow ear and he grinned while rolling his tongue out of his mouth and licking it delicately. She cringed at this and he chuckled and whispered into her ear, "Elder-Xarovica can make more then one Elixir of Death, my maiden."

"Why are you here?" she snarled while slowly turning her head to a side. She took the endeavor to glimpse his way; however, it had appeared that the sword's jagged blade was held far too close to her neck that if she had turned her head even the slightest bit too far she could sever herself. "Is it not very clear that Tamriel shall win the war that has been waged between your planes and mine?"

Broga chuckled at her insolence while forcing the blunt side of his Dremora longsword even tighter against her throat. Elizabeth's neck had stretched and her eyes clenched shut as the Nord had snarled most crossly, "Look before you, _Ms. Asquerana_, and tell me what you see."

Elizabeth steadily opened her eyes and feasted upon the sight that lay before her. Her eyes shifted across the horizon as she could undoubtedly see what Broga was yearning for her to see. As more Daedra crawled from the foulest pits of Oblivion, the guard and more who served Cyrodiil humbly began to fall. Their cries echoed out into the night. Their blood rushed the streets turning the entire pavement to a sinister crimson. Elizabeth's eyes grew misty at such a sight. With each sword plunged into her fellow humans her heart had torn. Broga leaned his head closer to hers to get the same vision which she could see.

Before her, there upon the street she saw Jaufree. As he desperately fought off a Spider-Daedra, a mage had appeared behind him. He seized the old man's neck by one side and from the other he had plunged his dagger. The Grandmaster Blade's face grew grave and his body plummeted to the ground lying there uselessly as he drew his last breaths.

Upon the side, she could see a Daedroth feast upon the fallen body of Baurus, the Redguard Blade who was so compelled to serve under the emperor. The bodies kept piling, and the blood ran even thicker. Elizabeth's eyes shifted furiously before her as she watched this, tears slipping one by one down her rosy cheeks. Suddenly, she saw her younger brother, Orrick. Her heart had shrieked his name and from its cage of bone it had attempted to reach out for him. _No, gods please, no... not him... not my brother! _But it was too late for her prayers and pleas. A Dremora Kynmarcher had seized his arms from behind allowing a fellow Kynreeve to plunge his fang within his stomach. Their mocking laughter heard on high. Elizabeth had pulled forward allowing the blade of Broga's sword to pierce her skin. A few droplets collected upon the rapier and Broga saw this and wondered why. When he looked up he saw the answer. The twin of the boy he had murdered at Bruma. Yes, he was Elizabeth's brother. Younger, no doubt. Broga held fast onto his blade and whispered into her ear, "... from what I see... Tamriel might have won the _battle_... but Oblivion shall win this _war_."

"Elizabeth!" snarled a voice from behind Broga.

Just as the Nord had turned he was greeted with the steel hilt of a blade. Broga's head ripped to a side and his grip upon his blade had ceased the ringing of pain had reverberated off the walls of his mind filling him with a throbbing twinge. Elizabeth tore herself away from the Nord's grasp and turned to see the attacker. A grin had pulled across her lips as she had whispered with such a loving breath, "... Hero..."

She swiftly had abandoned Broga's side sprinting to her dearest friend. Her heart had called out to him and as she saw him she had felt a rushing emotion of happiness and love mix together in a grand stream. She had felt like she was a mere child running to Bromus after a spat between her father and herself. The Hero had fastened his eyes upon Broga feeling his hate being aroused ever so easily. He hadn't recognized the Nord's true self; however, he had attempted to hurt Elizabeth.

In the Hero's eyes, he was just like Broga in every way.

The Imperial's gaze had only hindered when he saw the tearful eyes of his Altmer friend. His heart had lurched in his throat and he quickly averted his attention to her. He held a hand against the soft skin of her arm, unable to feel its texture through his hardened gauntlet. "Are you alright?" He had questioned her with a furrowed brow. His head had slightly bowed when his voice had called out to her.

Elizabeth had nodded frantically while pushing away the importance of her state. Her eyes were misty and red as all those deaths had finally taken their toll against her ever breaking heart. For through this entire war it had seemed she was affected the most. Her lips had rubbed against one another and she had told the Hero with a delicate voice which lingered upon a whisper, "... He's Broga... He's a Dremora in disguise. He uses the same trick that Xilivicus had used. Don't let him fool you."

More hatred had swirled within the Hero's heart as he heard this. His gauntlet became tightly wrapped around the hilt of his sword and slowly but surely his arm began to quiver. The man who had caused him and even Elizabeth all this pain, the man who had callously _raped_ Elizabeth, the same man... who destroyed and murdered all those people-- stood before him now. His immortality had vanished with this human façade and the Hero had thanked the gods of this. Once and for all he could end this heinous man's life and all the sinful deeds he had committed. He would cease existence and he would haunt Elizabeth, no more.

"Fetch Martin from the backstreets, Elizabeth." The man's voice; so ruthless.

She dared not question him at this point. With a simple not she had moved behind him allowing a hand to fall upon his shoulder. He glimpsed at her with darkened woodland eyes. His mere glance had sent sickening chills up her spine. "Be safe." She had told him simply while retreating into the darkness.

A chuckle came before the man and unhurriedly he had refocused his gaze to Broga. The grinning crazed Nord now stood at his full height with a trace of blood rolling from his coiled lips. The Imperial's posture had stiffened and he held tight upon his weapon soon narrowing his eyes. He stepped forward and prepared for an attack as he had snarled, "I won't allow you to hurt her anymore, Broga."

"I believe _my maiden_ is none of your concern," the Nord had swiftly leaned down and scooped his sword back into his grasp. He stood tall and unmoving like a great oak with his eyes fixated upon the bloody gleam of the Hero's armor. It gave a hazy golden luminance from the blazing infernos that came from the buildings surrounding them. Broga had made his way forward with no rush. His sword hung by his side as if he was not intimidated by the knight at all. His smile had lessened and he only smirked now as he told him, "You're really none of _my_ concern, so if you please—step aside."

The Hero had jerked his sword to a side and snarled most hatefully, his livid eyes fastened upon Broga's and he couldn't look away even if he had tried. He took long strides towards the Nordic man while hissing, "Elizabeth does not belong to you, _Broga_. Leave here."

Broga scoffed at his idiocy. He shook his head and glanced away. Even if the Hero had assaulted him he was certain that he could hold him back. When the Nord's eyes had rejoined with the Hero's he had told him, "... you intimidate me not; you're only an insignificant middling human. I am here for Elizabeth and her _alone_."

"She's never been yours; stop trying to fool yourself with such an imprudent masquerade of lies." The Hero felt his muscles tense even more. His anger had massaged through him and whispered into his ear provoking his blossoming antagonism. He wanted ever so much to rid himself of this Dremora who has continuously resurfaced in his life and planted the seeds of many burdens.

Broga had stepped back from this. It was almost a blast of reality that had shredded away the fantasy that had glossed his eyes and made him see only what he had wanted to see. His body had straightened completely as if he wished to stand to a height which might overawe the thought of him never being able to own Elizabeth. "Your life means little to me, _Great Hero_. You have done nothing to me that I can truly hold you accountable for, you are vindicated from the wars you have waged in the shores of my land. I will not murder another innocent unless they interfere with my work."

"Then you must take my life, Broga." The Hero had told him straightforwardly. "As long as I live and breathe, I will protect Elizabeth from harm."

Broga shook his head of his insolence. He had given him the chance to walk here free. With his words he had washed the Hero clean of his past sins with Mehrunes Dagon. However, the Hero only thought of the welfare of _his_ bonny lass. When would the Imperial see that she belonged to Broga and not him? "... then let me free you of that inconvenience, dear friend." The Nord had said composedly before charging forward hastily; sword drawn.

-+-

_Thump-bump, thump-bump, thump-bump._

Her heart rang like chiming tower bells within her chest. They pounded against her ribcage sending her forward along the backstreets. The pads of her feet were gentle upon the surface of the shattered limestone as she went. A fire raging in her legs for she had never ran this fast before. Her mind was beginning to disintegrate. The once onyx-façade of the Great Black Dremora now fell. It was just a mask and hiding behind that masquerade—those crimson jewels—was the real monster. A Nordic man whose dark eyes cut through her. Whose guttural tone had shattered the fortress of her withering heart. At moments like this her mind had fallen within a chasm of deep confusion. Had Broga come to whisk her away back to Oblivion or get rid of her once and for all? If he had come to do the latter, then he would have finished her by now. All that time stalking within the shadows of the backstreets could have been used to his advantage; even more so, he could have allowed the raging smoldering remnants to fall upon her. He had not needed to save her. But then if he had wanted to take her back to Oblivion, why would he have wasted his time with all this pretending? Knowing the Broga that she had known for all this time, if he had wanted her he would have merely launched her up and over his shoulder and stalked back into Oblivion with his hordes of guards protecting his heels. His actions contradicted one another.

But for now there were other things to think of like the safety of the heir to the throne. She was certain that he was fine; however, the hellions of Dagon roamed freely. Her stomach churned and from the corner of her eyes she caught an unfurling royal purple robe tainted with droplets of blood flutter. Elizabeth hurried. She didn't know just how much time was left.

-+-

The Nord grunted as he was nearly blasted back off his feet. He hadn't known that the Hero obtained such raw power. His eyes shifted back and forth across his figure. His posture was unbroken. His hands still clenched the blade ever so tightly and his eyes... they attempted to burn a hole through the man's soul. But Broga wasn't easily shattered like human men. The once-Dremora leapt forward giving the knight no time to retaliate his used force. Their blades were swift and passionately they rang together. Beads of sweat dripped down the faces of either opponent with only one question looming in their heads: Who's going to take the first fall?

They moved faster now knowing the stakes that they would need to take. Sweat burdened them even more as well as billowing mists of breath for the atmosphere of Oblivion had seeped through the gates along with the Daedra. Broga's foot had slipped from its stance and that was all that the Hero had needed. His arm was straight and his precision was dead on. The blade had slipped through the fabric of the man's robe soon piercing his right shoulder. An agonizing grunt had been given off through the gritted teeth of Broga's lips and he had focused his gaze upon the Hero as he continued to force the sword into the bone. The Nord hadn't moved and inch in fear of sending even more pulses of pain up his arms. The Hero's eyes twitched as he put his muscle into it. He heard the sickening hiss of Broga's skin ripping and his muscles being divided. Blood rolled down the silver sword and it was a beautiful sight for the Imperial man. He felt a rush of ecstasy as he could see the Nord beginning to weaken.

When the blade had pierced more of his bone, the Nord had winced but quickly smiled soon breathing steadily. His sword was still gripped tightly; however, it had quivered with his tattered nerves. The Hero stepped forward swiftly. He had known rather clearly that the blade of his sword was wedged between bone fractures and other such bodily materials. His steel boot had lifted from its place on the ground and swiftly he had kicked the gut of the Nord. Broga, who had been overwhelmed by his weakness, had been blasted off his feet and after leaving a fluttering trail of blood in the air he had fallen harshly to the ground twisting his body and breaking his fall with his forearms.

Blood gushed from the fresh wound taking much of the strength away from him; he gritted his teeth from the impact feeling the jolt of pain shoot up his arms and mix with the sensation of the wound. He closed his eyes tightly and stabled his breathing to hamper his blood flow.

The Hero had whipped his blade back to him and stared upon the man who would bleed to death from that wound. His eyes narrowed and he had wished secretly to himself that he could bask within this sight. However, he had heard his name called from behind and hurriedly he had turned to see Elizabeth and with her, Martin Septim. A grin had spread across her face as she waved to him from afar. Beauty was the mere essence of the Altmer. Even with dirt lingering in clumps of sweat upon her brow and a tangled silver mess upon her head she had looked ravishing. The Hero had grinned brightly and sheathed his sword and as he took two steps forward the façade of the maiden fell into despair. Her mouth fell agape and the Hero could hear Martin scream for him. The Imperial's brow furrowed as he hadn't understood their screams over the roaring of the infernos that surrounded him. Before he could answer their pleas with a confused call—he had saw the answer.

His eyes had fallen for a mere second and that was all that was needed. A great black shadow had been cast over him and with just a glance a shivering chill ran down the man's spine nearly sending his armor to quake. His muscles had released their tension and he didn't think he had the strength to turn. Curiosity got the best of him and the man had slowly turned to see what had casted such a shadow.

The first thing that the man saw was a great black body whose muscles were hardly held back by a tattered robe tainted with blood. As the Hero's eyes lifted he could see crimson eyes fixated upon his own eyes. Fear had tickled his heart and his throat had contracted. He couldn't even beckon forth the monster's name. Broga stood with narrowed eyes as he looked over the human. Now as he was within his Dremora state, he no longer felt the concern or twinge of fear that had consumed his despicable Nordic heart. He only felt anger. He only felt betrayal. He only felt dominance as he towered over the man. The Dremora had lunged a great black claw forward and seized the man by the shoulder of his steel armor. His fingertips had nearly crunched together the very metal. He jerked the Hero forward bringing him closer and with a snarling voice that had been let off through jagged gritted teeth, "... my turn."

With his other hand he had sheltered his great wicked Dremora longsword. Even through its quarrel with the mortal-made steel sword, it had kept its intensity. With all his muscles forced into this certain thrust, he had driven the uneven tip through the steel of the cuirass. Chips of the sword had come off when forced within; nevertheless, the man hadn't shown mercy. Broga's lips coiled into an eerie grin as he saw the Hero lurched back into his armor as the sword was driven through his flesh.

Broga would not give up just yet.

His muscles contracted under the robe as he forced the sword deeper. The Hero coughed and blood contaminated his parted lips. His eyes shimmered as for a moment he couldn't feel the pain. Reality began to dissolve into blackness and finally Broga had pushed the Hero back and with it came the fractures of muscles and skin that the Dremora had hoped to see. His grin broadened and his eyes narrowed deviously and he pulled the Hero closer while snarling into his ear, "... be thankful in the knowledge that Elizabeth's _new_ _Hero_... is stronger then her _last_." The Hero winced as Broga chuckled in his ear and with a shove he had pushed him backwards and watched his body topple to the ground.

-+-

_... Dibella... Mara... _

Elizabeth had stood motionless before the scene of the crime. Broga's hunched body stood over her friend and he watched lustfully as the blood seeped out onto the concrete and flooded the cracks of the boulevard.

_Thump bump... thump... bump. Thump..._

Her heart seemed to grow faint as she could practically see the spirit raise from the Hero's parted lips. Her breath grew uneven and the next thing she knew she had unsheathed her sword and charged forward. Tears stung her eyes which were now glossed over with hatred. Her cries blended in with her hateful screams as she lunged at Broga. The Dremora had been taken off guard and stumbled back hardly forcing his sword up in time. She moved swift. So much faster then the Dremora had seen in Ganonah, the realm of Oblivion he had fought her in. She was reckless. She no longer cared for stances or damned strategies. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she moved faster. Her sword had broken through the air and rang against Broga's weapon. The vibration had shot up his arms and he moved even further back with steady steps making certain not to trip over the fallen body of a guard or Daedra. His eyes followed her blade and he warded off each blow she had taken to him. Elizabeth heaved back her sword and screamed as she brought it down. All this building hatred towered within the darkness of her heart. Her mind hadn't known mercy and she knew not of her own limits. All she knew was that Broga would pay. All she knew was that he needed to lie dead upon the ground and she would deliver this to him. Broga held up his sword to deflect this blow and just as Elizabeth's sword came down all her directed anger pulsed through the katana and with the blow, Broga's sword had shattered. Onyx and maroon shards of a Dremora longsword had exploded and rained down in the air. Broga watched in amazement as he had never seen Elizabeth this way. She was so fierce. She was so detestable. She was the _true_ Hero.

Elizabeth whipped her sword across Broga's chest slashing away the fabric of the robe. The Dremora cringed as he felt the chilling tip of the sword rip through his skin and draw a thickened line of blood. He stumbled back and ceased his chest wondering as he glanced down if he bled black or crimson. His head jerked up just as Elizabeth swung her sword for the final time. The Dremora had gasped and nearly drew back. The gleam of the tip was noticeable in the firelight and it had swung around like a fireball and finally came to the crook of his chin and neck. He tilted his head up and waited for it to slice his throat; however, the blow had not come. Broga's pupils disappeared in utter fear of this murderous maiden. His hand had released the remains of his own sword and he slowly raised his arms in defeat, but he knew that the only way to surrender was to die.

The Altmer breathed heavily with piercing eyes locked upon Broga. One move. One single move forward and he would fall dead. One blow. One single blow and he would burden her no more.

Her arm was tensed and did not move at all. Broga swallowed a lump in his throat soon allowing his lips to part as if he was to ask her, 'what are you waiting for?' Unhurriedly, Elizabeth had let the tip of her katana fall. Her body heaved with her profound breaths and soon she closed her parched lips and merely watched the Dremora who stood in befuddlement. Suddenly, Elizabeth had bounded forward and with both hands she had lifted her sword up in one great sweep. Her knee had bent and the other one had trailed behind her as she moved. The blade licked through Broga's onyx skin digging a shallow slice. Elizabeth held the hilt of the katana near her head with the tip pointed downwards as she watched Broga stumble back and seize his face. As he withdrew his hands a long thin cut had been carved into the left side of his face. His eye had closed tightly desiring not for blood to get within it. The Dremora held the hand up to his eye and with his other eye he had looked at the maiden in trepidation.

"... Runaway, Broga." Elizabeth had demanded with such a cold tone. Her eyes; unyielding. "Runaway... and never look _back_." Her words were beginning to become hindered by choked sobs. Tears stung her eyes and she glared hatefully at him.

The Commander had stood motionless watching as the power began to escape her. She now became the little Altmer that he had known. It would have been easy to overpower her now if he had wanted to...

But her demands could not be ignored for she sat upon the throne of his heart, not his Master Dagon.

Broga slowly bowed before the girl with a coiled smirk. "You never fail to surprise me, Elizabeth." He rose to see her continuous glare. He could only grin broader at this. "It had brought me honor to defeat your friend," her glare hardened and he swiftly added, "... and fight such a swordsman as yourself. It would be rather cliché," he had said as he turned around and walked, "... if I had told you this wouldn't be the last of me. But no, I think our time together has ended." He glanced back with that same eerie grin that made Elizabeth shiver. He chuckled and nodded, "... I assume that a confession of my heart wouldn't alter your mind of coming with me, would it?"

"Broga..." Elizabeth sobbed as her shoulders fell and she began to cry, "...please."

He understood. He understood the conditions and memories that he had brought up when he was around her. It wasn't easy for her to live without him. Xilivicus, that was. Broga's eyes fell and he only smiled. If only it had been him who had shown her that comfort and love that his brother had. Possibly, it would be Xilivicus standing here fighting to the death and he—who lied within the lavas of Oblivion. Broga chuckled and turned around seeing an Oblivion Gate looming before him. He bowed his head and whispered lightly so she couldn't hear his farewell, "... I'm proud of you."

Elizabeth watched eagerly as Broga had walked forward to an Oblivion gate. He was untouched by the battling guards and Daedra which clouded the streets and effortlessly he had walked onward. He was unnoticed as he slipped through the gate and within its fiery hellfire he had vanished and with him he took all the weight, burdens, and soon all the memories of Oblivion with him.

+--+--+

* * *

_**-- Chapter **_ **_32: Epilogue-- _**


	32. Epilogue: The End

_-+- _

_Elizabeth Asquerana_

3E415-4E520

This was what my mother's headstone had read. Engraved deep within the granite was her name. It was bold and proclaimed itself loudly for the entire world to know. My mother, the Countess of Kvatch, had passed away at the ripe age of one hundred five. Her last wishes were to be buried out upon a hilltop near Kvatch so she might watch over it as if she were its guardian. Truthfully, she was. Her stories of fame and honor had passed like wildfire through all of Cyrodiil. Upon her deathbed were the highest figures of society: the Chancellor, the Royal Guard, many Counts and Countesses from neighboring cities and other people whom I hadn't met before.

I stood before my mother's grave like a statuette hovering over a dead lake. People swarmed around encasing me like a thick blanket. I hear the sobs of women and I could sense the grief of the men who had overlooked my mother's grave. For a while I had stood motionless; unmoved, even emotionally unmoved. My eyes fastened upon the bit of granite I could see of the tombstone. My brother, Aeydiin, who would become the Count of Kvatch, had stood adjacent to me. He stood tall and just as unmoving as I was. His coiled silver hair hung before his frozen tangerine eyes. When I had glanced his way I could see the strife that he had attempted to mask. But he was never good at concealing his feelings from me. I knew the path to his heart, a path that not many had traveled. He was; afterall, my twin brother.

My eyes had continued to hold their position upon him until he had glanced my way. His head hadn't moved an inch at all when he shifted his eyes my way. From such a distance I could hear his heart calling. It was beckoning me near. Faintly, it had called. Leisurely and almost hesitantly I had lifted my hand to his shoulder. My fingertips touched the delicate fabric of his crimson cape. But that was all that he needed. His head gave a nod of gratitude and together we had looked back to our mother's grave. Upon the bed of the grave many people had stepped forward from their lines to place down trinkets to honor the dead. My eyes had scanned gradually over these mementos of flowers. Would they not perish as well? Their beauty would dwindle just like the last moments of our lives. They would wilt and wither away and all that would be left was a skeleton of their former selves. I pondered over this for a while and even thought over just _why_ do we leave flowers for the deceased? Should we not leave a more durable substance that would withstand time and symbolize how the Countess' life would live on past the grave?

... My heart began to hurt.

I felt that sickening warmth that overcomes one just as they were to begin crying. Was it in human nature to succumb to it immediately? My lips coiled in and I bit them harshly telling myself, _Don't... not here. You must be strong. Be strong for the Countess._ As if my brother had heard my thoughts he had leaned near me and rested his frozen nose against my cheek. His breath had rushed past my ear and I heard him whisper almost faintly, "... Lydia... it's_ok._"

I shot him a glance. He had glanced back before lifting his head to rest against the crown of my fiery red hair. His arms constricted me in a loving embrace and at this moment my defenses had fallen. My lips parted and a wail came as I had buried my head into my brother's chest. My eyes wretched themselves shut so tightly that it had began to sting my eyes. I knew people would glance this way. It was the first time I ever let my audience see emotion from me. My mother said this was a trait I had inherited from my father; to be more or less emotionally frozen. I was shattered. My mother had been my own god. Without her presence how could my life exist? Who would guide me? Who would guide my people?

My sobs had softened and my head hoisted as I look at my brother's neck. The muscles hidden beneath the tanned layer of skin had contracted for a moment then relaxed as he had shifted himself.

My brother... my sweet brother.

He would lead Kvatch to its glory.

After a moment or two I had pulled away from my brother's arms. He lingered for a moment; I knew he was just making sure I was fine. I waved him off and wiped my eyes with the base of my palm. The sorrowful tears had vanished and now I saw clearly. Only a few people had remained now. Those who were exceedingly close to my mother. I saw two Argonians—they were a brother and sister from the Chapel of Akatosh. A Nord stood cattycorner to me and then there was the soon-to-be Count and I.

Through the air the great chimes of the bells had sounded off. Their voices carried on high and whispered out to our ears that stood far from the safety of the city. The Argonians had wrapped their arms around one another as they knew they must turn and leave to prepare for Aeydiin to inherit the title of Count from his predecessor. At those chimes my brother had cocked his head to the steeples of the chapel. His hand had prodded my shoulder causing me to look as well. I glanced to the steeples then to him as he had whispered, "... we must depart soon."

My brow lifted and I immediately protested, "... can we not stay a moment longer?"

"No," said he.

I turned my eyes towards the grave. It was hard for me to comprehend that beneath that stone lay eternally the shell of my mother. I ignored my brother's persistent gaze and asked him calmly, "... may I stay for just a moment more. I shall meet you back at the castle."

I didn't even have to look at him to understand what he was thinking. I knew he would think it was a bad idea to leave the princess alone on a hill, but he trusted me, I knew it. He sighed heavily and I could see him nodding his head from the corner of my eyes. I glanced at him as he ran his hands through his hair and his final words were, "... do not take long, Lydia."

"... I won't, brother." I reassured him.

He made his way down the path where his guards were standing and I turned back to the grave. More and likely he would at least leave one guard to keep an eye on me. I was certain. My eyes skimmed the headstone and the words graven into it and a sigh had parted my lips. Unconsciously, my feet had shuffled forward and I kneeled beside the stone slab. I minded not to the grime that would pollute my skirts. My hands had fallen to the granite and the chill ran across my palms. It had nearly frozen beneath my fingertips and as I looked upon my outspread hands I felt just like a little child again. I remembered all those times of the past where I would fall upon the cobblestone way and surrounding me I could hear my mother's voice as I sobbed, _Come on, Lydia,_ she called enthusiastically, _pick yourself up! There's no need for tears!_

Just like back then, I knew there was no need for tears. Just like back then, I would pick myself up. It was what my mother would have wanted. The wind had blown by and my hands had lifted to my windbound hair soon pushing a few coiling fiery strands from my face.

"You look just like her."

I nearly had fallen backwards as I jerked my head up to see the conjurer of the voice. It had been the Nord. I thought he had left Soon I thought myself as foolish for dirtying my skirts in front of a commoner. I lifted hastily to my feet and held my head high as I spoke, "... like who?" The Nord turned his face to the grave and back. There was no need for words at this point. I turned my eyes as well and then left off an acknowledging, 'oh'.

"You must be her daughter then," his voice was harsh and rich. Not accented like the Nords of Skyrim. I turned my eyes to him to see his face. It was pale like snow with two deep cobalt eyes. His eyebrows were thick like pines of a tree and lowered over his rounded eyes. He looked more sorrowful then the others who had been here only moments before. There was something about him. Something that reminded me of the past or possibly a forgotten parable of my mother's glory.

"I am," said I with a petite nod of the head, "had you known her?"

He chuckled lightly with a smile lighting his face as he had lifted from his pocket something. I cocked my head to a side as if to get a glance but it was impossible to see what was in his grasp. His hand had blossomed like a flower in springtime and he had gazed down upon the contents of his hand before speaking, "I had known her," he had answered and soon tossed his eyes up to me. Chills ran across my spine as those eyes fell upon mine. He had stepped forward and reached his hand out to me soon presenting to me the contents of that hand. I cranked my neck and leaned over to see what was in the man's hand. My eyes widened and there I saw it.

A beautiful dainty necklace.

Its gold had shimmered like none I've seen before. It sparkled as if it had just surfaced from the severe heat of the smelter. My hand hovered above the man's for a moment and before I had touched the gold of the chain I had hesitated as if it _did_ just come from the smelter. My eyes were fastened upon the necklace as the Nord spoke to me, "So many years it had taken me to find this lost trinket... I was going to return it to her, but it seems I was too late." His voice fell and his hand had almost swallowed up the necklace he had offered to me. "... I was to leave it here for her—but I believe you deserve it so much more then a silent grave."

At those words, I had pinched the chain and lifted it from his hands. I drew it back to myself and admired the golden blossom of a flower that dangled in the middle of the chain. My fingertips kissed the metal and I had smiled. Neither had I known why I had smiled nor why I had accepted this charm from a stranger. To this day I still question it. "... Had it belonged to my mother previously?"

"No," he had purred, "it belonged to your father."

"My father?" my heart fluttered and I turned my eyes up to him. "You had known my father?"

The Nord had not answered me. He only smiled at that necklace. The chimes of the Chapel rang off again and I knew it was time to leave; however, my feet would not turn. Planted, they were, in this place. "I fear it is time for us to depart. I bid fair tidings to the crowned Count. Adieu, my dear."

He turned his back to me and walked off. I stood in my place and watched him eagerly. Had he not known that I was hungry for more answers? How had he known my father? Who_was_ my father? I turned my eyes down to the necklace and then back to the Nord. I raced around the grave and nearly tripped upon my skirts. "Wait!" I called to him with an outreached hand. "Wait! Please... wait." The wind had picked up and its hands played with my hair. Its arms pushed me back upon the hillside but I was dedicated to speaking to this man. I pushed further and watched as the long raven hair of the Nord had tossed over one of his shoulders. His dark hair was another peculiar thing about him for most of all Nords were rather fair-headed.

I watched as his head twisted over his shoulder and he looked at me with a furrowed brow. Had my approach puzzled him? He fully turned to me and waited for me to catch up before he had asked what it was that I had wanted. Time was of the essence, he said. Yes, it was true. But there were things I_needed_ to know. "... you had known my father; how?" I had gulped breaths after rushing through that question.

The Nord frowned at me. Was this a question I wasn't supposed to ask of him? "I was once a Commander of a great army," he said quietly as if it was a secret he had wanted to keep, "your father was a soldier that I had ruled over. He was a great man who had done great things in his lifetime."

"... but how could you have known him?" I had inquired. There had been no possible way for my father to have known this man. He had looked a man who was in the prime of his life. If what he said was true then that would mean he was commanding an army when he was just a teenager or possibly even less. My mind stormed with questions. I could hear myself screaming them out at this Nord but not all of my questions had run through my mouth. Only one. My eyes trailed over his and eagerly I waited for him to answer.

"Time is a complex thing," he said soothingly, "... it matters naught how I had known him. That isn't what is important."

"... then what _is_ important?" I had promptly intervened.

His hand had lifted and he had pointed to my clenched hand. "That necklace... is what is important. That necklace is the base of your father's legacy and I can only expect that you wear it reverently and bear it for the rest of your days and when the time comes, pass it down through the generations."

"... But _why_?" I pressed.

He smiled at me. There was a twinkle in his eye and for a moment I wished I could peer within his mind to see what he had thought of me. "... Return to your city, Ms. Asquerana. Perhaps fate shall be kind and allow us the pleasure of meeting again under better circumstances."

He turned again. How could this man disrespect a woman of royal blood? He had not thought himself as unworthy to look me in the eyes of even to address me by my name. He was arrogant. He was courageous and most of all... he reminded me of what my father would be. I wished that I could find out just what it was about him that had fancied my mind or that had awoken the deepest parts of my memories, but he allowed me no time to question him further. Just as he made his way to the path my voice had lifted to the breeze and overwhelmed, "... may I at least know your name?!"

He stopped.

For a moment I thought it was to turn and come back, but he hadn't. He remained facing away and with a strident voice he had called back to me. Lingering upon his tone was that same coiled smile. "... Gaston..." he twirled his head over his shoulder to flash me that smile. I had not returned the gesture.

The chimes of the chapel rang again and I turned my eyes to the steeples. The chimes seemed thunderous now and so impatient. It was close to the time of the ceremony for the new Count. My brow furrowed and I turned back to the pathway to ask of—

He was gone.

My eyes widened and I had tossed my eyes furiously down the hillside. Where could he have gone? I had only looked away but for a moment! It wasn't possible... was it? The chimes rang again and hesitantly I had turned from that path and headed down the adjacent one that would lead me to Kvatch. True to my thoughts, I had seen a guard waiting for me. He had humbly bowed and then guided me down the cobblestone way. I followed at my own pace behind him as I had my eyes upon that necklace in my hands. I repeated the man's name over in my mind as if it were pendulum of a clock swaying back and forth; counting off the time. Time. Time was of the essence. As I looked upon this beautiful necklace I could feel the significance pulse off into my hands. My father's spirit resided here within this gold, I was certain. Perhaps, my mother's did as well. Together they entwined within this necklace. Their hearts calling for one another and their broken spirits finally pairing off with one another. After all this time, they had still stood strong. They were parted by death, but now they lived eternally within one another. I would mourn their deaths; however, I would revel in the thought that my mother and father now rested in peace with one another.

"Gaston," I had whispered lightly while shifting the gold in my hand. The word slipped from my lips like a stolen breath of winter. The gold tinkled off a light chiming noise which had brought a smile to my face. He was a ghost of my parents' past. Now, too, he would be a ghost of mine. Ghosts had their times of resurfacing to be the bearer of unfortunate news. But after all these years of wondering and dreaming, I believe there was no news that I could not handle from a mere man.

I was born into a family of Kings and Queens. The Asquerana family had dated back to the beginning of it all. My ancestors lived through the great Oblivion crisis. Even through unfortunate times, together they had lifted one another from the ashes of sorrow and death and together they had stood strong for the sake of the Empire and for the sake of the Asquerana name. Like my mother, Elizabeth, and my unknown yet honored father; I, too, would stand strong. Though the times were troubling and the horizon appeared as sinister as it was dark, I would hold my head high. For time always shows that there will be a better tomorrow. If there was no sacrifice then there would be no victories. My family had known this all too well, and I believe that one day I'll understand fully just what had happened during that one year that had changed my family's life, _forever_. But until then, I would exult the past and look forward to what the future brings. Time _is_ of the essence, you know, and I won't waste a moment of it.

--_**The End**_--

* * *

_**And so here you are. The Epilogue. The final installment. I hope you enjoyed the story. If the switch to 1st person had bothered you, well I am sorry, but I had thought it would be a pleasant and interesting change. Many many years had passed since the last chapter. Elizabeth indeed had Xilivicus' children- twins. I'm sure you caught on to that. **_

_**Read and Review, please! **_

_** It took me long enough to write this, I think I deserve it -faints-**_

_**And so now I can write more Oblivion fanfictions if I desire-- which, I do. :D **_


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