A/N: And here we go! The sequel to The Mortal Of Moonshadow. If you haven't read the previous story, then you might just get away with reading just this. Thanks to all who reviewed on my last story, and I hope you enjoy this one!

Prologue

Azura had eventually sent me to Cyrodiil, after the low, hollow emptiness inside me eventually took over. I turned into a mess, giving one word answers and no longer caring about my health. Had I not been daedric, then I would have surely died from being malnourished and dehydrated.

Finally, Azura sent me back. Of course, I had thought I was going there for the first time. Unknown to me, my dead husband was also sent back by the Gods. Was it to stop me? Even now I do not know. All I know is, I was never told anything until I remembered it.

Thank the gods I never killed my husband on sight.

The paper, cream in color and supporting the black hand seal, was slammed onto the table in front of her. Her eyes flittered upwards, a sense of boredom reflected in her dark blue orbs. Vicente, who was extremely irritated with her, pushed it towards her open palm.

"Lauraine, contract. Take it, and get yourself some action. You've been deadbeat for weeks."

"Thanks Vi, good to see you're supportive"

Vicente glared, his irritation almost hitting its peak. He had known Lauraine for a long time. She had been empress of Cyrodiil at one point, and he had been saddened at the news of her death. Twenty-five years later (five years after the death of her husband), the woman walked into the sanctuary accompanied by the speaker, younger and happier than the last time he saw her. Strange, he thought, that she had no memory of Tamriel.

Constantly insisting that she came from High Rock, she confused him in the fact that she couldn't even remember him. And that was irritating him. He watched as she slowly read the document, closing her book slowly.

"Emperor of Cyrodiil? Emperor Corbyn?! Who assigned this?" Staring up in shock at Vicente, Lauraines eyes reflected fear. A small, smug smile flittered across Vicentes face, her fear and hesitation making him smile. She was not as invincible as she once was.

"I'm not sure. Teresa wouldn't give me the details. Look, you have to get him whilst he is on the escape route out of the Palace. Otherwise, you'll lose him."

"When is he enroute to the escape passage?"

"In about half an hour. Hurry." Vicente smiled lightly at her speed. She was out of the door in seconds, her cloak thrown over her body in record time.

Martin stared up at Marcielle, a frown flitting across his face. His bright blue eyes flickered uncertainly, a foggy haze clouding his mind.

"Do you understand what you must do?"

"Yes Ma'am. But may I ask, what do I need to look like a member of the Morag Tong?"

"Because I said you do. Look, just do your job." Marcielle pulled his hood tightly down over his face, before shoving him out the door to her home.

Walking over the grassy hills, Martin reflected on his life. At twenty two years old, he had been working for Marcielle for five years, after he had been found with no memory in the middle of Skingrad. He had a surprising knack of grasping difficult things very quickly, and so Marcielle had hired him to do under cover work for her. And now, her latest orders were beyond idiotic.

He had been ordered to follow a trained assassin through the depths of the Imperial sewers, to make sure she didn't kill her target. The Emperor. If he failed, and the emperor was killed... Well... He'd be in trouble.

The assassin leaped through the darkness, attacking the Morag Tong agent with ruthless efficiency. Daggers screeched against each other, fighting back in order to win. A tiny, small break of sweat was lining Martins forehead; He never expected the assassin to be so good. Having been ordered to assassinate Emperor Corbyn Septim, aged fourty-five and escaping with his sons and daughters, she had ran into them in the Imperial substructure. Martin had been confused as to why she had suddenly turned around and gave chase after her, as she had been unable to lay a finger on them. She had let her target escape, and ran straight into him. And now the fight was on.

The man, she had assumed he was a man due to his fighting skills and build, wore a hood similar to her own. His face shrouded by the darkness it provided. Jumping backwards, she landed high on a ledge, her high acrobatic skill proving handy. Taking a bow and arrow from her robe, she nocked the arrow, aiming for Martin. He was turning around repeatedly, attempting to see her in the darkness. Cutting through the air with a shocking speed, the arrow flew towards Martin, stabbing straight through to his leg and forcing a howl of pain to escape his lips. Jumping down, she sent a strong hook punch to his jaw, causing him to sway uneasily.

Tying his hands together behind his back, she forced him down onto the cold, concrete floor.

"Now, I'm going to remove your hood shortly, and then you are going to tell me why you are following me. And when you have done that, I am going to kill you."

Emotionless, Lauraines long, thick curls poked out from under her hood, completely cascading down her back in thick ringlets once she removed said hood. Her pale face looked deadly in the blue light that emitted from the walls, her blue eyes utterly empty. A small gasp escaped Martins mouth, a similar one escaping hers as she slowly pulled back his hood. Bright blue eyes stared back; dark straight hair contrasting against every other pale object in the white room. Slowly, painfully, the memories that Azura had hidden away returned to Lauraine, only now in her new life. Martins own eyes reflected the same look of shock and disbelief, his own memories returning in a quicker flash. Locking eyes, the words left her mouth in surprise.

"Gods blood..." Martin stared over at her, noting how she hadn't changed one bit in the decades that had passed. Her face was still structured, high cheekbones, bright eyes and plump lips. Her hair was still its bright blonde, falling in thick curls at the front, and straight towards the back.

Lauraine analyzed Martin in the same way, his bright blue eyes still taking her breath away like a kick to the stomach. Slowly, very slowly, she undid the ties on his wrists, murmuring a spell under her breath. When the ties were gone, Martin swiftly stood up, ignoring the shooting pains in his leg.

"Lauraine..." Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her cheek, his eyes staring into hers. She knew he couldn't believe it, believe she was here. Because she was feeling the same. A dull pain was still coursing through her body, the pain of leaving him the second time to go back to Moonshadow affecting her entire body with shaking aches.

It still felt like her heart was being ripped out, it's arteries being snapped and burned in lava. His hand moved from her cheek to her wrist, pulling her against him tightly. Burrowing herself into his chest, her eyes kept flickering to the wall a fair way behind him as she waited for her spell to take action. The wall was slowly turning florescent pink, a soft glow radiating from the concrete blocks.

Lauraine winced slightly as Martin moved in to kiss her, her final moments of her previous life forcing their way to the front of her mind. Pulling back, she resisted the urge to laugh as he lunged forward into mid air. Pulling herself out of his grip, she stepped behind him and stared towards the wall.

"I forgave you in the past life, but who said I forgave you in this one?"

Looking back over her shoulder, she grinned cheekily before she sprinted towards the -now bright pink- wall. Martin stared, wondering if she wanted to run face first into a wall of concrete. But that never happened.

Lauraine skidded when she neared the wall, attempting to get her speed perfect. Instead of hitting the wall as Martin predicted, Lauraine skidded straight through it, wisps of smoke flowing through the room before the Pink archway disappeared in a bright white flash. The concrete stone returned to its normal color, Martin's chest thudding painfully. Had her hood not still laid on the floor alone, he would have never believed she was there. Her grin flashed across his mind, the playfulness reflected in her eyes causing him to feel lighter than normal.

The chase was on.