Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Blood Lust

By Diana Moon Glampers

Chapter 1

Behold: Vivec

There was a woman, standing outside of her rustic home. The sun was out. The sky was clear. It was a beautiful day in Tamriel. She was hanging clothes up to dry after washing them for her husband and her daughter. Her name was Clare, an Imperial. Clare was somewhat serious. She had a troubled past, and was once addicted to skooma. She spent some time in prison because of this and from then, made a promise to herself to go straight. From there, she started a family and lived her idyllic life in the country. Her body was somewhat muscular, at least for a woman, though she tended to hide it underneath her dress. She had long hair, which she grew out to try to make herself look more feminine. She liked to take pride in her long, clean hair.

Clare's husband was Marcin, a hardworking mudcrab hunter. His job was hunting mudcrabs and selling their meat to butchers in the nearby towns, mostly Pelagiad. Marcin always came home dirty, covered in mud. He wasn't the best looking man in Tamriel, as he was short, chubby, and had an ugly scar on his face. Marcin was honest though, and a hard worker. He considered himself very lucky to have a wife that would take care of the house when he was gone.

Clare and Marcin also had a daughter, Lucia, who was almost 7. Lucia loved her parents. She would accompany Marcin on his mudcrab hunts, hoping to one day become a strong hunter just like him. She loved her mother too, but sometimes found her boring. She was always at home, cooking, cleaning, and finding other things to do to keep her busy. At the moment, Clare was hanging up laundry to dry in the yard. She could see her daughter leaving the house.

"Lucia? Where are you going, sweetie?" Clare said.

"The city," Lucia said.

She was referring to Pelagiad.

"What do you plan on doing in the city?" Clare asked.

Lucia was known to spend her pocket money on stupid things.

"You're not going to that merchant square again, are you?" Clare said.

Lucia was nervous.

"Uh…"

One day, she came home with a dead bird. The merchant said that it was a phoenix and would come back to life. Really, it was just a dead bird.

"Stay home. I need help making supper anyway," Clare said.

"Mommy…"

"You can go to town with Daddy tomorrow," Clare said.

"But he won't let me buy anything cool!" Lucia protested.

Clare smiled.

"Exactly."

She hung a pair of pants up to dry as her daughter sighed.

"One of the kids at the creek said that there was a talking bear for sale," Lucia said.

"Talking bear? Lucia, I wouldn't trust that," Clare said.

"Why not? If it can talk, I can tame it easier," she said.

Lucia put on a devious smile.

"…And I can use it to maul people! Then no one can mess with me!"

"Lucia, it's either a scam or dark magic. I wouldn't trust a talking bear," Clare said.

Lucia sighed.

"Okay, Mommy."

She helped her mother finish hanging up the laundry to dry.

-BL-

It was night. Clare and Lucia had already prepared dinner. Marcin was usually home by then, but today was different. They both sat at the table, waiting.

"I'm starving. Can't we eat?" Lucia whined.

"Not yet. We wait for Daddy. Okay?" Clare said.

"But shouldn't he be home right now? I'm hungry," Lucia said.

"I'm hungry too. Let's just wait, okay?" Clare said.

They waited a few more minutes before the door slammed open. Sure enough, it was Marcin. He looked pale and was out of breath. Clare, unaware of the situation, greeted her husband.

"Welcome home!" she said.

Lucia was overjoyed.

"Daddy!"

She ran in to hug her father, but he pushed her away.

"Sweetie, you need to hide," he said.

"Hide?"

Marcin turned to Clare.

"Find something, quick. They're going to take her away," Marcin said.

He grabbed a spare spear that he used for hunting. Clare grabbed one of her husband's swords.

"Who? What's going on?" Clare said.

"Daddy?" Lucia said.

"Lucia, go in your room and hide," Marcin said.

Lucia whimpered. She ran to her room, finally grasping the gravity of the situation. Marcin turned to his wife.

"The ordinators from Vivec City visited today. They're looking for our daughter. They're going to take her away."

Clare was still shocked.

"Why? Why do they need her?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I'm ready to kill every single one of them. If they're going to take away my baby girl, they'll need to go through me first," Marcin said.

Clare clutched her sword. She was nervous. Her palms were sweaty. She hadn't fought anyone since her prison days. Even then, she lost more often than she won.

"Lucia… I'll fight my hardest," Clare said.

Clare and Marcin heard marching outside. It was the ordinators. They marched up to the door, with large ebony clubs in hand. The lead ordinator called out to Marcin.

"Give us the girl. We promise we won't hurt you or your family if you surrender."

Another ordinator shouted.

"Give us the girl. Now!"

Clare and Marcin remained silent. The lead ordinator called out again.

"This is your only chance. Give us the girl right now, or else,"

"Or else what?" Marcin shouted.

"Or else we kill you both and scatter your bones in the wind."

Clare held her sword. She turned to her husband. He looked scared. His hands were shaking. He was experienced when it came to weapons, but normally, he only fought animals, weak animals.

"Stay calm. Okay?" he said to Clare.

It seemed ridiculous coming from him, but she didn't care.

There was a brief silence. Clare knew that they were talking, planning. She heard footsteps moving toward the back door. She motioned to her husband that she was going to go there. He nodded. As Clare moved toward the back door, she heard a loud thump. She saw a huge crack in her door, followed by another thump. She raised her sword.

"Are you ready to die, scum?" an ordinator shouted.

With one final whack, the ordinator broke through the door with his mace. He led three others with him, each one waving their weapons, longing to fight.

The ordinators charged at Clare. She swung her sword and slashed one of them across the face. Before she could do anything more, another slammed her over the head with his mace.

"Get the man too! Go! Go!" the leader barked out.

Clare stood up. She saw ordinators approaching her husband. She tried to rush in to defend him, but an ordinator stood in the way.

"Move aside!" Clare shouted.

She remembered her days in prison, having to prove she was tough to keep from being a victim. The ordinator wasn't intimidated. He swung his mace. Clare tried to parry, but the mace was too strong. It broke her sword in two. The ordinator smiled.

"Weak. Weak and pathetic."

He swung his mace again. Clare jumped out of the way and made a fist.

"You're the one who's weak."

She slammed her fist into the ordinator, as hard as she could. He fell down, on his back, breathless. Clare punched him again, this time in his Adam's apple. It was a technique she knew, and if it hit right, could cause a break in the windpipe and kill him. Clare screamed. She'd only killed once before, in prison, in self-defense. She wasn't used to the idea of ending a person's life, but knew that she'd have to if she was going to survive.

"You… You die!"

She smashed her fist into the ordinator's neck again. He gasped for air, trying to grab his mace. Clare took it from him. She smashed it over his head. His skull cracked. Blood poured out of his mouth. The ordinator shook on the ground, violently his movements growing fainted by the second. Clare smashed the mace over the ordinator's head again. His skull broke. His body fell limp. The ordinator was dead.

Clare turned around and saw the other three ordinators. One of them held Marcin down, his spear on the floor. The other two took turns beating him with their maces. He didn't scream in pain. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out, not even air. Clare raised her mace.

"Put him down. Now!"

One of the ordinators laughed.

"He's going to die. You can't do a thing about it."

It was true. Marcin had broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and was no longer able to breath.

"Put him down this instant," she commanded.

The other ordinator beat Marcin again. Clare knew they wouldn't listen to her. She swung her mace at the other ordinator. He tried to block. There was too much force behind her blow. His defense meant nothing. She smashed the mace into his head. There was a loud crack, a crack so loud that it had to be fatal. The ordinator fell to the floor. His jaw was broken, unhinged from the rest of his skull. His blood dripped from his face, into a puddle underneath his head.

The other two ordinators were shocked. Clare scowled.

"Which one of you wants to die next?"

The ordinator that was holding Marcin down dropped him and began to chant. The other ordinator joined him. Clare wasn't familiar with this ritual, but she knew that something was wrong. She started to move toward them, until she saw a portal open up in front of her. A man walked through, an elf with pale white skin. He wore very little, only a loin cloth and a gauntlet. His body was slim, but toned. His eyes were otherworldly, something unlike anything else on Tamriel. It dawned on Clare what she was seeing. It was the poet, one of the three god-kings of the land, Vivec.

"Ordinators, stand down," Vivec said.

They bowed to him.

"Thank you, your holiness," the lead ordinator said.

They dragged Marcin out of the house. Vivec turned to Clare.

"You! Mortal! You dare interfere with the passage of fate?"

He clenched his fists and looked into Clare's eyes. Clare gripped her mace.

"I'm not afraid of you."

It was a lie. She was very afraid. She'd never seen a god before, much less fought one.

"Hand over your daughter and I will make your death swift and painless," Vivec said.

Clare thought of the good times she had with her daughter. She remembered giving birth to her, playing with her as a baby, her first word, and even her first day of school. She remembered how Lucia would play with her hair when she was younger, how she would bring home friends she knew from the creek, and even taking her to town to buy "stupid" things. It all meant too much to Clare. She wasn't about to give that up.

"Well?" Vivec said.

Fire surged from his hands.

Clare gazed at him and clutched her weapon.

"I see. Then you are damned," Vivec said.

He tightly gripped onto Clare's arm and casted his spell. Clare lit up instantly. Her hair, her clothes, her skin- everything burned. She screamed in agony as she fell to the floor, scorching the floorboards with her heat. The air thickened with smoke and the horrid stench of burning skin. Tears collected in her eyes. Her vision was fading from the extreme heat.

Vivec turned away from Clare, and walked toward Lucia's bedroom, where she was hiding. She was scared. She clutched her knees as Vivec drew closer.

"Who… Who are you?" Lucia whimpered.

"I am the god king Vivec. Come with me. Now."

Clare moved toward Vivec, determined to save her daughter. She could hear Lucia from her room, on the verge of tears. She wouldn't last too much longer, not like this. She was still determined to fight.

"I'm coming, Lucia! I'm coming!"

Clare burst into Lucia's room, still burning. She could hardly see, but she could make out the figures of Vivec and Lucia in front of her.

"Stay away from my daughter!"

"Mommy! Help!"

Clare didn't know what she was doing, or even what direction Vivec was. She wound up to punch him. Her eyesight was fading. Her body was weak from the burns. She fell down. Clare tried to get up, until she felt Vivec's foot stomp her back down into the ash covered floor.

"I admire your commitment, mortal, but you must know your limits."

From there, an unspeakable agony. She laid helpless as Vivec dragged her entire world away.

Then, crushing, eternal, inescapable darkness.

-BL-

Marcin was on his kitchen floor, dying. He heard a scream, a terrible scream that belonged to his wife. He tried to stand up, to go help her, but his body was broken. He had a broken rib, jammed right into one of his lungs from his beating by the ordinators. His breathing was heavy. He knew that he couldn't do much.

"Curse them… Curse my fragile body… Curse them all," Marcin thought.

He heard footsteps coming toward him. It was Vivec and the two ordinators. One of the ordinators seemed pleased.

"Ah! Look! They left us a bounty. Shall we feast?"

They were referring to the food on the table, the dinner that Clare and Lucia had cooked that night.

"My Lord," one of the ordinators said, turning to Vivec, "Would you like to have the first bite?"

Vivec smiled. He examined the spread. There was a chicken, stuffed with dressing in the center of the table. It was still warm. Vivec tore a leg off and took a bite.

"That was for me. My wife cooked that," Marcin thought.

There were cut carrots in a bowl, glazed in a butter sauce. It was Lucia's work. She loved cutting vegetables. She'd try to cut the carrots in fancy ways to make them look more appetizing. One of the ordinators took a bite.

"Delicious."

Marcin could take no more. He grabbed the leg of the table. He tried to climb up, putting all of the effort and energy in his body into this one moment. An ordinator noticed the table wobbling. He tried to Marcin.

"Are you still alive?" the ordinator groaned.

There was pain, a blunt force driving through Marcin's head, a force stronger than his body, stronger than his skull.

Then, there was nothing.