For those wondering: This is a port of a now ongoing Fiction work you can reach in my signature. As this is a port, it will likely not be updated as frequently here, as I am posting it to entertain those of you who are not aware of the Backwoods little berg from which this story hails. It now numbers four multi-part chapters long, and is my first foray into Fan-fiction I would consider successful. So, sit back, grab som K'lah, and enjoy your stay!


Chapter 1: Black and White


The suffocating darkness was broken only by the soft blue glows of unnaturally luminescent crystals. The high vaulted ceilings may have leant a feeling of grandeur before, but now felt strangely claustrophobic, as if the walls would close in and crush you at any moment. I was gliding softly through the blackness, guided only by the winking blue lights, following them through what seemed a maze of corridors and passageways.

Suddenly, the walls opened, and in front of me stood a grand chamber, it would have been spectacular had it not been so sinister. The entire chamber was bathed in red light, and strange, black figures were moving about, neither knowing nor caring where their feet carried them. In the center stood a high raised platform, and there another figure stood, emblazoned in armor that seemed svcked the light in from around him, and I was moving towards him. Try as I might, I could not fight the savage need to know whom this man was. I wanted to cry out, scream for help, but my tongue had become iron.

Closer…closer…ever closer I inched, feeling the icy metal flood to my limbs. The figure turned to face me, his eyes glowed a fiery red…




----




Ice cold sweat drenched my face as my head soared from my pillow, my breathing shallow and ragged. Feeling something in my hand, I looked down to see my steel dagger in my hand… how did it get there? Did I pull it out of my pack in my slumber?

I dropped the dagger to the floor, returning my head to the pillow. All a dream, I thought, just a dream, another dream. Calm down Derelas, it’s nothing to worry about. Old news.




----




The Imperial City was only half a day’s journey from Wawnet Inn, as the publican told me over breakfast. Just follow the high street out of town to the Great West Bridge over Lake Rumare, and follow the road from there straight to the gates. It was a lovely clear day outside, and the bridge was not hard to find when I left, the white marble spires framing the road practically burned new holes in my eyes.

The morning bustle was only just beginning as I made my way forth. A balding fisherman was making his way home with his morning catch of some of the biggest Slaughterfish I’ve ever seen. Many of the travelers who slept the night here were gathering their horses and pack mules to continue on to wherever it was they were going. Many others still were filing into the small stores nearby. It was a simple, yet elegant, vista of pastoral harmony.

Forcing my eyes away from the scene, I directed my feet toward the Great Blinding Bridge and made a silent note to thank Y’ffre if I could still see after crossing.

The bridge led to a switchback road up the steep incline of the Imperial Isle, many rocks blocking my view of the city proper. It was just after midday when I finally crested the hill. I was greeted with… more whitewashed walls. It might have been an awe-inspiring sight had I been able to see anything at all, but I ended up having to walk the whole rest of the way with my arm up shielding my eyes because of how brightly polished the marble was. I know this city is supposed to be the shining beacon of the Empire and all, but wow... you think you might be taking this a bit too far? I was quite thankful to finally reach the gates proper, just to be able to see again.

Once I closed distance with the walls, though, the blinding marble gave way to gray granite. Still not to be outdone, the stone was impeccably carved and rose into an imposing Gothic archway housing a raised portcullis and a well-polished bronze gate flanked by two men in flashy steel armor, flaming red feather plumes rising from their helmets… Imperial Legion Centurions.

“Welcome to Cyrodiil City.” One of them voiced to me. They then marched in unison to the great bronze doors and threw them open with an impressive flourish. “Enjoy your stay, citizen.”

I passed through the gates to a scene unlike I’d ever seen before. Instead of the peaceful maritime bustle of Weye, here it was an outright cacophony of voices, footsteps, shrieks, and hoof beats as people large and small jostled this way and that about their daily lives. The huge crowd, from the super-rich in fine linens to the street urchins with no more than stained sack cloth, pattered every which way you could think of past white marble buildings so tall they seemed to wall away the sky. Such a dizzying sight made me begin to wonder if I could ever find the Arcane at all, so I ducked into a shaded back street to pull out my map.

“Looking for something, citizen?” A passing legionary inquired.

“Yes, I’m looking for the Arcane University.” I responded, hoping this guy might be able to make some sense out of this madhouse.

“You’re in Talos Plaza," the legionary told me, indicating a gold sign nearby:

“Talos Plaza. IMPERIVM AD VITAM AETERNAM”

“Just follow Septim Way through Talos Plaza, take a right on Green Emperor Way, follow it around until you reach Stendarr Loop, and it will take you straight to the University.”

Follow who-da, take a right on what-da until I reach where-da? Thankfully, the guard noticed my blank look and handed me a new map, this time of the city itself, and noted everything he told me on it.

“Thanks.”

“We’re here to serve.” The guard brought two fingers to his helmet in salute before clanking away. I started to wonder why guards weren’t this helpful all the time, given my experience at the customs office on my way in from Valenwood, but soon did a double take. This was the Imperial City, after all. The Empire does have an image to maintain.

It took another hour just to find Green Emperor Way. I got lost twice in the crowds and at one point found myself filing my way down Septim Ave. rather than Septim Way, causing me to mumble curses under my breath for the Empire’s shameless lack of originality as I turned back. I eventually fought my way through the chaos of Talos Plaza, and the astounding noise of the crowd died instantly as I crossed the threshold of Green Emperor Way, giving way to a subdued, formal silence, and I felt a strange, liquid-like sensation pass over my skin, probably a spell to help keep the noise out.

“Please show your respect for the Imperial Palace by keeping your voice down.” A guard in blazing white armor decorated with dragons told me as I entered, and I joined the now near-silent crowd making their way along the road. Most of the time my view of White Gold Tower was blocked by the many high-rising buildings, mostly fine hotels and apartments for the city’s wealthiest citizens surrounding the Palace Road, but every so often I would pass a colossal iron gate barring the way to the Palace proper, and was able to steal a glance of the immense structure beyond the veil. It seemed to rise forever towards the heavens, perhaps ascending to touch the face of Aetherius itself, the marble walls were so well polished and maintained it was no wonder I was blinded on my way in, and almost completely blocked by the rest of the city, I could make out the royal graves. Such a sight, already breathtaking from here, must inspire awe when seen from outside the walls; a way of saying: “We are the most powerful society in this land today. To challenge us is to challenge the will of the Nine themselves.”

I felt myself smiling faintly as I turned onto Stendarr Loop.




----




Two shrouded figures crested a flight of stairs bathed in crimson light, where another shadowy figure sat upon a throne of black stone signaled them halt. They obeyed, and then sunk into a low bow.

“What news?” His voice rang with command as he spoke.

“Derelas just arrived yesterday.”

“And now?”

“He left for the Imperial City this morning.”

The cloaked man frowned, this might complicate things a bit; our kind is not welcome there. But no matter, he won’t stay forever.

“What else did you discover?”

“He’s searching for them, and he wants the Mages Guild’s help.”

Mages Guild? The shadowed man smiled, his red eyes lit aflame with amusemant at the very idea. The Mages were fools. They had no idea what they were allowing to happen under their very noses. To think they could keep us at bay locked away like dogs. They would be in for a rude awakening, and soon.

“Good. Keep an eye on him. I want to know the instant he leaves.”

“As you wish, Lord.”

The two shrouded figures bowed again, then turned to leave themselves. The red-eyed man smiled to himself. Soon the pieces would be in place. The 433rd Year of the Third Era would soon become forever etched in history.

Chapter 1-2: Recommended Assistance


“Welcome to the Arcane University. Are you looking to join the Mages Guild?”

“Maybe.” I replied. “How would I do so?”

“Just that way.” The ironclad battlemage pointed towards a large spire rising from the center of the courtyard, the many magical lanterns hung throughout the surrounding trees illuminating it a deep fuchsia. “The Enrollment desk will have everything you’re looking for.”

I nodded thanks and strode inside the tower.

The circular room within buzzed with activity. Many lines of people were gathered for various services, the longest of which was for “Financial.” Many more clad in green and occasionally blue robes were milling about the foyer. I made my way to the line for Enrollment, where I was eventually gestured over by a middle-aged Altmer.

“Anything I can help you with today?” It was rather amazing how fast he spoke.

“Yes, how would you go about enrolling in the University?”

“Fill out this application.” He handed me a small booklet of parchment between (sort of) syllables. The front was simple enough; mostly personal information, but one look at the second page instantly perplexed me.

“Recommendations?” I asked the Altmer behind the desk.

“Take a leaflet from the pile here.” He replied. “Anything else?”

“Umm… that’s all for now, I think.”

“Next!”

I left the desk carrying the application and leaflet titled “Recommendations: Furthering your Magical Career” and began to read on my way out of the building…


A true scholar of magic understands the need to put his education to practice. Long-winded lectures by crotchety professors can only get you so far in this world, and now the Guild of Mages offers support for up-and-coming Associates and continuing Apprentices alike to further their practical knowledge of the Arcane Arts in the form of Guild Recommendations. These are simple activities chosen by the magisters of local branch chapter houses (you may find one in every major city in Cyrodiil) designed to test vim, vigor, and dedication to the guild’s everyday work. Remember, the study of magic is not restricted to the walls of the University. It is an ever-continuing endeavor, for the arts of Magic are forever.

A Recommendation consists of a set of tasks that will be determined by whatever assistance may be rendered to the magister’s chapter on that particular day. Upon completion of whatever goals may be set by your magister, said magister will provide written proof of completion. Of course, we here at the University understand that proper incentive is quite helpful in affirming the young mind’s dedication…

*thud*

“Watch it, tree-hugger!”

“Sorry…”

I had collided with a tall and rather shady-looking Nord. His back was now fast retreating, so I gave a sigh of exasperation and decided to find somewhere to sit down to finish reading.

We here at the University understand that proper incentive is quite helpful in affirming the young mind’s dedication towards their goals, so we have outlined a number of benefits for receiving Recommendations. Do please note, however, that only one Recommendation may be applied for and/or received from any chapter.

Associates and Apprentices:

Each recommendation you attain will grant you discounted tuition to the Arcane University. If you manage to obtain five or more, you will receive full scholarship as thanks for your dedication to the Guild. We have provided special forms within your application for this purpose, but you may also choose to have your proof of completion mailed to you. Please contact Gold Horse Courier Services for more information on the latter option.

Evokers and higher:

Each recommendation you complete will grant you discounted guild services, be it spellcrafting, enchantment, or combat training. Those who complete five or more recommendations may receive a grant in the study of your choice*.

*All requests subject to approval by Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven before consideration.

Signed: Raminus Polus, University Headmaster.

As I finished reading, a huge load lifted from my mind. It might actually be possible for me to attend, and without worrying about loans and debts piling up! I slipped the brochure and the application into my pack and left the campus. It would be best if I asked about these Recommendations at the guild chapter houses, since they provide them in the first place. A quick glance at my map told me the town nearest the Imperial City was called Chorrol, located along the Black Road. My mind made up about how I was going to finance my education; and satisfied I had enough information to get on with, I began to make my way back to Wawnet.


----


I arrived back at Weye as the sun began to sink below the western mountains and the telltale orange glow of Masser peeked out from the northeast, bathing the land in their combined orange glow. I took a moment to drink in the splendor.

“Pretty neat view?”

I turned to find a Dunmer girl in leathers was standing next to me. Her ashen skin clashed vividly with raven-black hair set aflame with crimson by the evening light. It was an almost ethereal sight, that of a woman who was blazingly openhearted, yet independent and secluded. It felt as if her spirit might be in turmoil…. Ehh, not important right now, Dere; she’s talking to you right now, so you might want to talk back.

“Yeah… very orange.” I said back to her simply.

“True. A little romantic, maybe; sun setting over a manor village, smoke curling from the chimneytops…”

“…A young lady standing admiring it with a man at her side.”

The lady turned to look at me, a faint smile crossing her lips.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” She replied, walking towards the door of the Inn. “Shall we go inside? Grab a bite?”

“Why not. Too nice an evening to spend alone.” I quipped, following her inside.

It was very cozy within the Inn’s walls with a large fire merrily crackling away behind the bar and several whole pigs sizzling over it on skewers, filling the room with the savory smell of roast pork. It was very busy tonight; the inn was packed with road-weary travelers. The female Dunmer I met outside sat down at the bar then looked back to me. I took a seat next to her at the bar, and the well-endowed publican promptly greeted us and took our food orders. We didn’t speak much until dinner arrived; even then, it was she that started conversation once again.

“Not one to talk much, are you?”

“Not really, idle chat isn’t exactly one of my strong suits.” Best to be honest with her, I thought. Living a lonely life can do that to you.

“OK, so how about I break the ice then? What brings you here to Weye? I doubt you’re here just to admire the lake.”

“I was visiting the Arcane University, up in the Imperial City.” I responded.

“Interesting, I never took you for a city boy, why go there? Country life too dull for you?”

“Well, you know, furthering of knowledge, exciting opportunities, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get to see someone magick a horse into the Arch-Mages quarters?”

“Funny enough, someone actually did that before….”

“No joke?”

“Nope, and not a happy day for horsie, either. Probably destroyed half the furniture before they finally managed to get it down.” She explained, her grin matching the laughter in her eyes. “But really, why were you there? You look pretty fresh out of the Elder Woods, I can’t imagine what you’d want in such a crowded binge as Cyrodiil City.”

“Well, since you asked nicely… I’m mostly looking to study the Ayleids.”

“And what in Y’ffre’s Great Woods would make you want that?” She asked with a barely disguised hint of disgust in her voice.

“Well, my parents held an interest in them. Sorta felt like following in their footsteps. What, is there something wrong with my interest?”

“No, nothing with you, with the Ayleids.” She replied, the note of revulsion in her eyes and voice ever present, “The beauty of their structures was only matched by the heartlessness of their culture. Thank the Gods they were conquered.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think? I mean, who deserves to be erased from existence?” I asked her, hoping that I was missing something.

“I know what I’ve seen, and they did…” She started, then her voice trailed off. “Say, where are you’re parents, anyway?” She suddenly asked, “Why are you traveling all by yourself?”

I turned away from looking at her. This was not something I wanted to talk about; it was still a little painful to think about.

“Sorry, bad question.” She quickly responded.

“Thanks.” I replied before quickly changing the subject. “Anyways, where do you hail? You hardly seem the city type yourself, miss forester.”

“Oh, so you noticed! Was I that obvious?” She giggled.

“Well, not everyone shares dinner and pvssyr in rawhide leathers, that’s for sure.”

“True.” She replied. “Well, I’m Cyrodiil-born, myself. I was born by Moonbind under the sign of the Shadow.”

“Moonbind?” I inquired. I never heard that term before, though I was fairly certain it had something to do with Nirn’s dual moons.

“When Secunda passes in front of Masser.” She explained. “That along with my birthsign is seen as a sign of good luck among my home village of Faregyl.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of a place called Faregyl before…”

“Well, probably not, Faregyl’s a pretty small village. The company was a little… iffy. There’s this one guy, Alix Lencolia, he kept bringing people round and sparring with them all day long… fun to watch, but it gets really annoying listening to swords clash all day long. All things considered, though, I liked it there.”

“Given a birth like yours. You must have been quite the sneaky one.”

At this she gave a small laugh. “Plenty of the farmers back home are still wondering where some of their precious gardening tools went. I wasn’t even the only prankster there, and nowhere close to the funniest.”

“So then why’d you leave if you had so much fun there?”

She cocked her head and shrugged along with her response, “Got bored.” This reply immediately struck me as pretty flimsy, as if she were trying to hide something. Or maybe she was just being coy.

“In a village so close to your element?”

“Well, I enjoy my solitude.”

OK, now definitely trying to hide something. I quickly dropped the subject, turning away to continue eating.

“Drunken louts.” I suddenly heard her say. I turned to look at her, and she was looking back towards the dining area, where a large number of people had gathered around a table and were making a huge amount of noise.

“Really? They don’t seem too bad right now.”

“Maybe now, but in five minutes, some barfight could start or…”

*CRASH*
“REALLY!!!”

An almighty frenzy shook us out of our discussion as a table was overturned, sending several tankards and plates flying across the room. Two people had started a drunken brawl, and a Dunmer was pummeling someone I couldn’t make out with sickening force, each blow striking as hard as a smith’s hammer on an anvil. A second crash told me the door of the inn had flown open, and a Legionary, clanking loudly in his plate mail, rushed to the scene to break up the fight. He grabbed the Dunmer and nearly threw him across the room to remove him from whoever he was grinding into the stonework. The Dunmer responded by rushing the guard and slamming his fist into his chest, or rather, his armor, as communicated by the resounding *GONG!*. The guard responded with a heavily armored elbow to the face, and a loud crack signaled the Dunmer’s jaw breaking as he fell to the floor unconscious. The guard then grabbed him by the ankles and wrists, lifted him over his shoulders like a hunter would a carcass, and carried him away… to the prisons, no doubt. A second guard then arrived and hauled away the the other brawler, who had passed out after the Dunmer was taken. She was a Redguard, her gray hair heavily matted, and face heavily lined and scarred. She had the look of someone who was ready to fall apart at the seams.

My eyes met my companion’s, who had raised an eyebrow….

“You see? What did I tell you?” She said.

“Well, there goes my appetite.” I replied, pushing my plate away, with her following suit.

“We should probably get some rooms before they all disappear.” She said, waving the publican over and handing her some gold. She then turned to me with raised eyebrows.

“Mine’s already paid.” I quickly answered. “Well, it was nice talking.” I told her as I got up to head back to my room.

“Yeah, it was.” She replied. “And who knows, maybe I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe you me, but I’d probably struggle with that, given your birthrights and whatnot.”

“Then I’ll be sure to announce my presence with trumpets and drums.” She joked back, grinning.

“Thanks…” Came my bashful reply.

“By the way, I never did get a name.”

“Oh, it’s Derelas.” I told her.

“Fathrian Dresdan, but you can just call me Faith. Good night.” She turned to leave, but then turned back.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t very good at talking?”

“Sometimes I surprise myself.” I said simply, prompting a chuckle from Faith.

“Well, good night.” She finished, turning away and making her way upstairs.

“Night.” I called back, rising from the bar to retreat to my own room.

Chapter 2-1: The Black Road



“Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the Blackberry patch.”

The eerie singsong voice floated through the black halls, every so often lit with glinting blue crystals. It was drawing me, an insatiable urge to find it washed through my body.

“Blackberry falls, Blackberry falls…”

Suddenly my eyes were filled with crimson light as I turned the corner. A black figure stood at the entrance to the room… she was singing. I was hearing her voice.

“…sweet child of mine the Night recalls.”

I closed the distance, and she looked up. She smiled to me; her eyes alight with joy. I moved in closer, I knew that face…

Her face then became one of pain; I heard the sound of metal cutting flesh as a glinting blade penetrated through her stomach. Behind her was another figure, pitch black, except for the eyes… red eyes, the color of blood.

“Mother!”

I was in my bed at Wawnet, once again sweating ice. Another nightmare, such a wonderful start to the day… they’ve been getting worse ever since I arrived. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to sleep at all in the near future. These thoughts did nothing to help my mood as I dressed and made my way downstairs to breakfast before leaving.

Yesterday’s wonderfully clear and warm summer day had given way to a light cloud cover as I left the Inn after breakfast. It was business as usual around Weye this morning, except the fisherman I saw yesterday was noticeably limping and had apparently reeled in empty. He made a beeline for his small cottage, quickly shutting the door behind him, as I turned west towards the Black Road bound for Chorrol.

I was passing a large network of stone ruins once the sun had fully risen. Many vines of deep blue morning glory accented their crumbling walls of yellowing stone and breathed new life into the abandoned crenellations. I took a moment to drink in the sight of the ruined keep, an ancient relic from a time long gone. A slight breeze played my ears as I passed, and I could almost hear the rowdy cries of soldiers, the soft nickering of horses, and the ringing of the hammer on the anvil. In fact, I could hear something now… sounded like footsteps.

A Khajiit clad in hardened furs dashed out from behind the walls. He took one look at me, and then his hand swiftly dove to the haft of a mace swinging by his side.

“All right, hold up right there! This is a robbery, your money or your life!” He snarled. Wonderful, my first journey out on my own and I’m being held up…. First nightmares, now robbers… what did I do to deserve this?

“Look, I really don’t have the time or patience to deal with some sleaze who’s so ashamed of his own pelt he wears another’s. Just get out of my way.” I had spoken without really thinking it through, but didn’t care. It just felt good to rain on his parade.

“Bite your tongue, Wood Elf, before I smash in your jaw!” Came his bitter reply. I responded by drawing my sword.

“Try me.” I shot back, my mind racing about what was coming.

“Hey! What’s going on here?!” A shout came from behind. The Khajiit responded by quickly snarling, “don’t even think I’m finished with you,” and dashing off. A loud clanking behind me announced the arrival of a Legion patrol. I sheathed my sword and turned to face him.

“What was that all about?” He asked me immediately. I responded quickly, telling him about my assailant, what he looked like, and where he went.

“Fan out, men, he can’t have gone far.” At this, three more legionaries on horseback urged their mounts forward. The soldier on foot then turned back to me, apparently having more to say.

“You’ll want to be careful if you’re traveling alone. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ve been getting increasing reports of muggings and robberies along the roads. Nothing we can’t handle, but you just keep that in mind. Stay vigilant, stay safe, citizen.”

“Well, thanks for coming along before that got ugly.” I replied back. “And for the warning.”

“We serve and protect. Carry on.” The soldier finished, turning away and mounting his horse. “And don’t worry about that highwayman, we’ll find him. Just stick to the roads as much as you can.” He called out as he rode away.

I put my back against the morning glory-overgrown wall and sat down to let my mind catch up with me. The moment I saw that mace drawn, my mind flashed back to when I was sixteen…


----


“The key to being the better fighter is to always be one step ahead of your opponent.” My father had brought me outside and down to the floor of the forest from our home high in the tree canopies. He had brought with him several different weapons, daggers, swords, axes, and maces.

“Where did you get all these?” I asked him.

“Later, son. Right now, concentrate on your technique. Remember the basics, don’t lose your footing, and above all, try to predict what I’m about to do.” He had a large wooden stick in his hand, which he was using as a makeshift club. I held my wooden dagger tight, palms beginning to sweat, silently begging it not to slip free like last time.

He swung the club downward and came at me low. I quickly hopped back, dodging the blow, and lunged in to counter as he recovered his swing. Sidestepping my lunge, he brought the club around and swung low again, aiming for my knees and forcing me to jump to avoid him. Once my feet hit the ground again, he was swinging for me again, this time high, aiming for the arms. I ducked down to avoid the blow…

“Not good! I have the momentum now.” Dad called out to me as made me sidestep a vertical swing. “You’ll need to get out of this before I tire you out!”

Yeah, thanks for the obvious advice, what do you think I’m trying to do right now? I frantically checked for a way to turn the tables on him, and noticed him shifting his weight to his rear foot. As quick as I could, so to catch him on his recovery swing, I hooked my leg around his, and before he could fully brace himself, kicked it out.

The resulting disappearance of his weighted foot caused him to overbalance and fall to the ground. I quickly followed him with my dagger, and plunged it towards his heart…

“Gotcha!”

It was over. I had won the day, and Dad had a huge grin on his face.

“Excellent! Remember, keep ahead of your foe, try to predict his next move, and do what you can to counter it, like you did there with taking my leg out before I could finish putting my weight on it. Now, let’s try again.”


----


“Your swordplay is definitely improving,” Dad said. It was evening now, and we were enjoying a dinner of roast rabbit together in the cool evening air. “You make me so proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I replied. I was still curious about something, though. “Now, are you going to tell me where all those weapons you brought out came from?”

“Oh, those!” He softly exclaimed… “Well, some were supplied by the Archaeology Guild, and others are pieces they let me keep.” He told me, but that answer only puzzled me even more.

“I… I don’t think I understand. Why would you need weapons for that kind of job? Digging really doesn’t seem all that dangerous, just a lot of shoveling and lifting.”

“Archaeology isn’t just about digging things up. Many times we are asked to look around inside for artifacts to recover, and no one knows what manner of beasts may have come to dwell within the ruins we occasionally uncover. Tamriel is a lot more dangerous than many people care to admit. That’s why we were out here today, practicing your skills with the blade. You need to know how to handle yourself in a fight.” He then shifted his gaze skyward before adding: “Besides, if you want to join me at the Guild, they like it if you can handle yourself. It tells them you’re serious about the job.”

“OK, that helps explain where they came from,” I replied, though there was still one more question on my mind: “but why did you bring them with us down here?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” My father replied, smiling down at me, “Tomorrow is your seventeenth birthday. I want you to choose one weapon from the set I brought, and that weapon will become yours to keep.”

“Really?” I could feel my eyes beginning to moisten. This was my family’s acknowledgement that I had matured. The bequeathing of a weapon, as was tradition for many others, and us, told the world that I was a man, ready to make his own choices and solve his own problems.

“Really,” Dad replied. It was all I could do but to hug him tight and thank him from the bottom of my heart. “You’ve grown up strong, and a father couldn’t ask for a better son. Keep to your training, and then we’ll talk about getting you some work at the Guild.”

I moved to the various assortments of swords and axes to find the one that I felt best spoke to my spirit. I selected a shortsword crafted of steel, and gave it a quick figure-eight, listening to the metal’s ringing song, and feeling the hilt shift in my palm, observing balance and weight.

“I like this one,” I told my dad.

“Great,” He replied. “Now, best get back home, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. I believe your mother is planning to bring you out to craft your bow, so get some rest.”

“By the way, dad…” Just one more thing I needed to set straight.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t forget my birthsign, right? You know I don’t tire easily.” He responded to this by grasping my shoulder and squeezing.

“Just don’t let it get to your head. The Steed may give you a horse’s lungs and legs, but not their constitution. If all else fails, remember to call to Equine for aid. You’ll know when he answers…”



----



Looks like the sun is nearing its zenith, I should probably get going if I want to reach the next inn by evening. As I stood, I felt my sword brush my side, and I took hold of its hilt, feeling familiar comforting warmth spread to my fingertips. It was as if my father’s spirit resided within... the only piece of him I had left, as my bow was of my mother. It was all I could wish for now but to hold my blade close and pray that someday, somewhere, I might just see them again.

Chapter 2-2: Assassinations and Proclamations


ETHEBRIDGE MILL
Welcome to County Chorrol

The dense green forests of the Heartlands gave way to the rugged yellow grasslands and evergreens of the Colovian Highlands. The brook marking the county border babbled away beneath the small stone bridge across, its speed becoming that of a frenzy having finally been freed of the millpond just northward. The mill wheel creaked slowly and gutturally as it turned, and the faint sound of grindstones could be heard from within. To complete the picture, a huge rocky peak rose beyond the watchtower, the sandy stone cliffs occasionally broken by colossal caverns housing ancient carved stone structures. The moist, heavy air became lighter and drier the further I traveled over the past two days, and now my head was beginning to twinge rather uncomfortably. Probably just from all the travel, I told myself, it’ll get better after a good night’s rest. The walls of Chorrol were just visible over the rocky hilltops; I should be able to make it by sundown.



----



“Welcome to Chorrol,” one of the guards outside greeted me as he lit his lantern. “I suppose you’re looking for a place to stay for the night?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I replied.

“The Oak and Crosier is a fine place,” the guard began, “Talasma is very friendly and keeps a good clean house. As a matter of fact, she’s probably serving dinner right now, so best you hurry along if you don’t want to miss out.”

“Where can I find the place?”

“Just inside the gates off to the left of the Saint Statue Plaza. Should be packed right about now, so you can’t miss it.”

Not exactly the atmosphere I was looking for, I would have preferred some place where I could sleep off this headache in peace.

“Is there any place else, maybe somewhere a bit quieter?”

“Only the Gray Mare,” the guard told me, his face stiffening, “but all you’ll find there is cheap ale and raving drunkards.” That statement did wonders for making up my mind. Better loud and sober than sick and drunk.

“Right, Oak and Crosier it is.”

“Have a good night.”

The guard touched two fingers to his helmet as I made my way through the portcullis. It was getting too dark at this point to see much of the city, but I could make out the shadow of a statue by the light of a large building buzzing with activity to the left behind it. Deciding that must be place the watchman recommended, I made my way inside.

“Welcome to the Oak and Crosier, this one is Talasma, at your service. Looking for something to eat, or perhaps a place to rest?” A smiling Khajiit dressed smartly in blue suede greeted me warmly as the door swung closed behind me. The room was filled with men and mer wining, dining and pvssyring away, and while noisy, the effect was not unpleasant, rather it added a warming atmosphere. I made a silent note to thank the watchman next time I saw him, but in the meantime, I had dinner to worry about….

“Perhaps,” I replied, “what do you have?”

“Today we are serving boar; it’s been rubbed with sage, garlic, and a touch of clove and slow-roasted. That comes with a baked potato with butter, sour cream, and Cheydinhal Cheddar and a skillet-seared mushroom stuffed with tomatoes and caramelized onions,” she quickly recited. There was passion in her voice accented by her perked-up ears, telling me she really did love her work. She certainly knows how to get her customers' mouths watering.

“Sounds delicious,” I returned, “How much for that and a bed for the night?”

“20 Drakes,” she responded. I handed her a small handful of silver coins.

“Thank you. Now, there should be a free seat over this way, follow me….”



----



Warm sunbeams fell across my bed as I started up. My head had stopped aching and better yet, no night terrors. It would have been a perfect start to the day if there was not something that didn’t seem to fit about this morning. The inviting murmur of the evening meal had given way to an oddly stiff silence that seemed to compress the air within the lodge, making it seem oddly difficult to breathe. After a quick visit to the washroom, I made my way downstairs, and was greeted by an empty room. Not even Talasma was present. Something was very wrong with this picture now. The publican was not serving the breakfast fare, and the entire city was dead silent when it should be buzzing with the morning activity. Since I was obviously not going to get any questions answered in here by myself, I thought it best to go outside and see what was going on.

“…under his rule we saw 65 years of peace and prosperity, and many grave threats to the Imperial throne quashed.”

A booming voice greeted me as I made my way out the door. What looked to be the entire city’s population was gathered in the Statue Plaza, where a herald dressed entirely in black velvet was speaking from a raised wooden podium. Every face that I could see looked thunderstruck, and I could also hear the occasional sob. I noticed Talasma nearby and made my way to her, hoping to get a better idea of what happened.

“Excuse me, what’s going on here?” I whispered to her, making her jump before she quickly turned to face me.

“Goodness, you startled me,” She replied, “Umm… sorry, what did you ask, again?”

“What happened?” I repeated to her, doing my best to keep my voice down so to not disturb anyone else.

“Oh, yes,” She began, her voice higher than usual and quavering oddly, “Its… It’s the Emperor… He’s dead.” On speaking that last word, she gasped as if she hardly dared believe what she had just said. The air vanished from my lungs and electricity surged through my body as if I had been lightning-struck. I immediately turned my full attention to the herald, wanting just as much as everybody else to know what had happened.

“His passing marks a dark day indeed for the Empire, for the eternal flame of Akatosh, the light by which we all owe our lives to, grows dark. Today has been proclaimed a day of mourning by the Elder Council, who, until a decision as to who shall next attain the throne, shall take control of the Empire. They will do the best they can to maintain order until a new Emperor can be crowned. Her lordship Countess Arriana Valga would now wish for you to join her in a moment of prayer for the loss of such true-hearted men.” He then proceeded to help an elderly woman, also dressed in black velvet for the occasion, to the stand.

Wait, what? This makes no sense. Didn’t he have any heirs? What happened to them? Shouldn’t the Elder Council be searching them out? What else did I miss? How did he die? My mind buzzed with questions as the crowd bowed their heads and brought their hands together.

“Thank you,” the herald broke the silence after several minutes and helped the countess back down, where she moved to rejoin her guard at the head of the crowd. “If anyone wishes to know more, the Black Horse Courier is available here. Funeral processions will be held a week from today in Cyrodiil City.”

He then stepped down himself, and the entire square erupted into a maelstrom of confused voices as the crowd gradually dispersed. It took me several minutes to fight my way through to the makeshift newsstand that had been erected. Once I finally managed, all of my questions were answered with two drakes:



BLACK HORSE COURIER
Emperor and Heirs Assassinated in the Night!

It is with great regret that we inform you today of the tragic passing of His Majesty Uriel Septim VII, 87, and his three sons (Geldall Septim (56), Enman Septim (55), and Ebel Septim (53)) at the hands of a mysterious group of assassins on the night of Last Seed the 27th. This means for the first time in recorded history, the Dragon Throne lies empty with no heir to claim it, and many eyewitnesses have reported that the Eternal Flame of Akatosh in the Temple of the One has been extinguished.

“Normally when the Emperor passes, the flame simply dims until one of his heirs binds himself to the throne in the Coronation Ceremony,” Temple primate Tandilwe stated during interview with Black Horse Courier reporter Hassiri, “for it to go out completely would be unthinkable.”

But unfortunately, it has. With the Dragonfires darkened, the people of the Empire have erupted into a mass of confusion and hysteria. Many doomsayers have begun to hold this event as a portent to the end of all things.

“The Compact has broken,” One told our reporters, “The power of the Nine has failed! The signs have never been clearer! Soon the jaws of Oblivion shall open, and the Daedra will roam free across the land!”

What a load of horse manure… the Emperor was assassinated not much more than two days ago and already we have idiots like these doing nothing more than add fuel to fire beneath the boiling cauldron! If the Elder Council is doing everything they can to hold Tamriel together right now, it sure won’t help with fools like these trying to get everyone to blow their tops just to keep the sales up. Crumpling the paper in my hands, I stuffed it as far as I could to the bottom of my pack so I might never see it again. Taking a quick look around, I noticed several of the shops around town were beginning to open. Assured that business was not being hampered by the tragedy today, I returned to my original task.

Following the posted signs up Great Oak Lane brought me to the similarly named Great Oak Plaza. The first thing that caught my eye was the tree growing in the center; it was huge! Its trunk towered over even the tallest buildings and the leafy canopy spread its shade to every corner of the rotunda, bringing back visions of the woods back home. The encircling road was now bustling with people moving every which way now that the herald was finished. Occasionally, a few would stop to chat, probably speculating about what will happen now that the Empire had lost its leader, but no one stood in the same place for long. Those who were here to relax were spread out upon the grassy knoll beneath which the great tree spread its roots, or sitting upon one of the many mahogany benches encircling it.

It was tempting to just throw my head back beneath the shade of the broad leaves for the day and let everything sink in, but I knew better. I wouldn’t get any closer to the University doing nothing. After a few more minutes of searching, I finally noticed the blue eye denoting the location of the guild, and made my way to the oaken doors.




----





“Hello, welcome to the Chorrol Mages Guild,” I was promptly greeted by the lightly hissing voice of an Argonian clad in indigo robes, “I am chapter Magister Teekeus. Are you here to join, or perhaps for one of these ‘Recommendations’ I’ve been hearing so much about?”

“Both, actually,” I replied, digging into my pack to remove the papers I brought with me from the Imperial City. He sounded like he was rather grumpy, and I couldn’t help but notice the irritation in his low voice when he said “Recommendation.”

“You won’t need those just yet,” Teekeus stopped me, causing me to look quizzically into his unreadable eyes. “First we need to give you a quick aptitude examination.”

“What? What test?” I asked indignantly. I thought anyone was allowed to join? Why do I need to take some dumb test?

“Don’t worry, it’s just for evaluation. It won’t affect your standing,” There was that irritated voice again, which did nothing to reassure me. I wasn’t sure if I liked him all that much. “I just need to know what schools of magic you are experienced in so we can better plan for your needs.”

“Illusion and Alchemy,” I quickly recited. I just wanted to get this over with, seeing as there was so much I’d rather be doing right now than listen to some crotchety lizard-man preen about my experience.

“OK, perhaps you show me a spell from the Illusion school?”

Repressing a sigh, I closed my eyes, imagining the lights had all gone away. I then fixed my mind on a desire to bring light to the darkness as I tensed my arm and clenched my fist. Soon I felt energy surge to my palm, and I held it in as long as I could before letting my hand fly open, releasing the Magicka in the form I desired…

*ROAR*

Oh, gods, did I just start a fire or something? My eyes flung open to the sight of another Bosmer, his hair ablaze, sprinting for the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. My stomach plummeted.

“HE’S OUT OF CONTROL, SOMEONE GET A LEASH ON HIM!” He cried out as he threw himself outside. I then saw a strange creature prance out of the neighboring room. It looked like a goblin, except he had black scales instead of green skin, long pointy ears, a maw full of sharp teeth, and a fireball building in one hand. With a quick motion, Teekeus cast a ball of purple light at the creature, causing it to dissolve into nothingness.

“Sorry about that,” he replied nonchalantly, “now, that was a Light spell, right?”

“Wait, hang on, that wasn’t me, was it?” I sure hoped it wasn’t. I don’t think I would be able to stand the shame.

“No, Erthor just has a bit of trouble controlling his summons,” Teekeus replied uninterestedly.

I raised an eyebrow at his response, but decided it would be best not to continue this discussion. “Yes, it was a light spell,” I replied to Teekeus’s original question. I then heard the door open as the Bosmer named Erthor returned, now bald and with his face sopping wet. It was all I could manage to resist laughing as he stomped upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

“Okay, now for Alchemy. Wait here.” He made his way into the neighboring room and returned a couple minutes later with a mortar and pestle, a white mushroom cap, a small cut of meat, and a vial of water. He then laid them on a small table next to a window and turned back to me. “Show me what you can do with those.”

A quick examination of the ingredients told me the mushroom was Cairn Bolete and the meat was venison. I then took the ingredients and began to crush them together with the mortar and pestle, not stopping until they had become a bright pink paste. I then slowly added in the water, stirring constantly, until the contents of the pestle flashed and shone with magical power. I then handed Teekeus the finished product, which he quickly appraised.

“A simple restorative draught,” he declared, “crude, but acceptable. Now, is there anywhere else you have magical skill in?”

“Nope,” I replied honestly.

“Very well. Hand me that application you had earlier.”

I handed him the leaflet of parchment, he then made a quick motion with his hand, causing a quill to appear out of nowhere, and began scratching away.




----




“Welcome to the Mages Guild, Associate,” Teekeus said as I handed him back his quill, which promptly vanished.

“Thanks,” I replied, “Now, I don’t mean to rush anything, but about that recommendation….”

“Oh, that,” Teekeus quickly looked out the window and I could swear I saw his scales darken as his eyes narrowed, “well, thankfully for you something’s just come up. I need you to find out what Earana is doing here.”

“Who is Earana?” I inquired, unsure how I fit into whatever was happening between them.

“Let’s just say we have a history together,” Teekeus replied, “She doesn’t put much by the rules of the guild and has taken to interfering with my research. I need you to speak to her, find out what she’s doing in Chorrol, and then come back here and tell me.”

I had to bite my tongue on the several questions I had, particularly why he just wouldn’t go outside and ask her himself. It probably wouldn’t be a very good idea to antagonize him right now, considering how on-edge and grouchy he looks. Instead, I wordlessly made my way outside, and immediately noticed a sandy-blond Altmer in a bright green dress making a beeline for me.

“Pardon me, are you new to the guild?” she immediately asked. This must be Earana, I thought; time to play along. At the very least I could answer this question honestly.

“Yes, actually, I am,” I told her.

“Ah, good,” she replied, a shifty grin crossing her face, “then you’ll do just fine. My name is Earana, and I have a job for you. It pays well, and it will most assuredly assist you in your education.”

“Depends on the job,” I told her, noticing the ghost of irritation flash through her eyes at my response. It would seem she was expecting someone a bit more enthusiastic.

“Oh, it’s not difficult at all, if that’s what you're wondering,” she replied, quickly recovering her haughty demeanor, “I just need you to find a book for me.”

“Okay then, what is this book you want?”

“It’s called ‘Fingers of the Mountain,’” she told me, placing heavy emphasis on the title that sounded mighty close to reverance, “it is of no use to you, you will not be able to read it. I, however, can, and would very much like to. Go to the ruins of Cloud Top in the Colovian Peaks to the north, find this book, and bring it back to me.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” I replied, “I just need to head back inside for a bit and get ready,” I then turned to leave, but was stopped by a sharp grip on my shoulder.

“Whatever you do, do not tell anything about our arrangement to Teekeus. It would be… unhealthy for you if you did,” she told me in a low, dangerous voice before letting me go. I left her side without a single glance backward, hoping she didn’t see the uneasy look on my face.