To set the Darkness, forever echoing-- the time when darkness puts a permanent unforgettable mark on the land, lettnig this mark forever echo in the sound of time, and in the pages of History. Mehrunes Dagon, Daedric Prince, Prince of Destruction will conquer.

These are the final chapters of Uriel Septims' life, and the beginning of a Dremora girl. The prologue of a long, cold night.

--

The cell was filled with a murky smell, and dust motes danced in the air. Through lack of light, eerie shadows were cast over the cell, with just a small sliver of moonlight flooding through the tiny window. Surpressing a groan, two dead eyes struggled to open, mucus sealing them shut. The eyes opened slowly, two dark pits in which there was no return scowering the cell. It was held up by chains, cold shackles tied around dark wrists to hold the creature up.

"Well you're an ugly sort."

Glancing over toward the door, the pathetic creatures' eyes narrowed, the dark eyes burrowing a hole into the Dark Elf's skull.

"My my. I haven't been with a woman in a very long time. Say, a guard owes me something. Perhaps I can exchange that to be moved into your cell. Look at how beautifully your Dunmer skin is on display."

The creature chuckled slightly and straightened, not at all embarressed that her body was on complete display for that wretched Dunmer in the opposite cell.

"My my, look at the curves. And the.. those aren't natural for a Dunmer, are they?" The creature shook it's head and attempted a smile, revealing a large set of completely white teeth. "Horns? My, you are quite the abberation."

"No worse than you," The creature ground out, gripping the cold chains and tugging them a little, testing the strength. "I could get out of here in a blink."

"You won't get anywhere, dressed like that."

The creature shrugged and looked over to the window. This irritating Dunmer was supposed to be a meal on legs, not a conversation. "Dunmer." The creature gasped out, "I will repay you if you help me in my escape. Clothes would be good."

"Now, why would I do that?"

"I said I would repay you. I have talents."

The Dunmer in the opposite cell pushed his arms through the bars of the cell door and leaned against the metal. "Talents, you say?"

"I've been told."

"What kind of talents?"

The creature rolled its dark eyes and shook it's head. "Just do it." The creature tugged on the chains once more and tried to imagine incredibly hot flames. Perhaps if it melted the chain off she could use what was left of the chain to shimmy up to the window. However, drawing from whatever power it had and attempting the spell wasn't worth it, as a shock raced through it's body and sent it convulsing.

"Tried opening the lock on those shackles with magic, whore?" The irritating Dunmer cackled and shook his head, laughing. "They enchant the chains in these cells. Not only are they strong but nobody can use any magic!"

The creature now hung limply in the chains and groaned slightly. "I hate Imperials."

"Don't we all?"

The creature raised its head slightly, it's black long hair flowing over its shoulders and face, covering the large horns that sprouted from its' forehead. "Listen." The Dunmer spoke, it's words hushed and fast, "I'll put a word in with my guard friend, and see if I can be exchanged into your cell."

"And I would repay this honour.. with..?"

"I'll think of something," The dunmer laughed, and even the creature couldn't resist turning up the corners of its mouth in a mock-smile. "What did you do, anyway to get stuck in here?"

The creatures' smile faded and its' head lowered slightly, the long dark hair covering its' face from the Dunmers' view.

"I was born."