Everything seemed to happen slowly - every arrow soaring through the air seems to arc like a falling leaf, and the blood seems to fall to the ground like a snowflake - I sprinted over the dead bodies on the deck, and kicked open the door to run through the holds until I came to the locked door. I slammed all my weight into it to see the sight that changed everything - that changed history.

Titus Mede II, Emperor of Cyrodiil, lay dead upon the floor, crimson blood spurting from his neck. Standing above him was a hooded figure, a long curved knife in hand, glinting against the moonlight. I yelled out in anger - sprinting towards him - but I was too slow - he crudely crashed through the window and thundered through the air until he came into contact with the water. I managed to fire off an arrow as he slammed into the water, but I could still see the moonlight reflected in the ripples of his swimming. I turned back to the figure on the floor, and collapsed onto my knees, holding him closer to me.

The soldiers burst into the room, looking around desperately for where the assassin went. I shook my head in despair, and held the aged face of my Emperor against my heart in grief.

The surrounding soldiers sheathed their swords, waiting for me to speak. I stood up after what felt like hours of loss and pain.

"The Emperor is dead." I said quietly, my voice dead. "Long live the Emperor." The men nodded and began to quietly repeat the words. I looked back to the body laying on the floor, blood staining his fur and silk. I shook my head, my blood-stained hands pressed against my face. I could only say one word as I stayed in the room, cradling him against me. I could only apologize over and over to my Emperor, to my teacher, to my own flesh and blood. "I'm sorry." I muttered, tears falling down my face. "I'm so sorry father..."