Chapter One
She didn't know who she was; where she was; she didn't even know why she didn't know why she didn't know or why she was … wherever she was. What she did know was that she had a splitting headache.
She groaned and lifted her head off the rough wool. It felt like someone had slammed her head against a blunt rock repeatedly. Or a sharp rock, actually, when dried blood fell to the floor as she sat up blearily. Wincing she put her hand to her head and felt a worn bandage tied around her forehead, dry and stiff with blood.
Exhausted she leant back on the cold wall, made of huge stones of a dull grey and noticed a gate in front of her with a lock. Why was she in a jail cell?
She looked at her hands: they were pale. Her cell consisted of a collection of hay for a bed, a table, a chair a wooden cup and a pitcher.
A sigh escaped the women's lips as her head throbbed. She didn't know why she was wounded, but she suspected it had something to do with her amnesia. She frowned, trying to remember something but only managed to get a vague picture of fire in her mind before it slipped away, like water does in cupped hands. She felt so tired that before she knew it she was lying on the bed again, asleep.
When she awoke her head wasn't as bad, and she didn't feel as tired. Sitting up she stretched, feeling cramped muscles protesting. Her bandage fell down slightly, covering her right eye and she lifted it, looking around for a fresh bandage before realising she was in the jail cell.
Carefully, using the wall for support she stood up and went to the table, ignoring the cup and drinking straight from the pitcher. Warm, salty water poured down her throat and relieved the tissue, earning a sigh from her. Putting the pitcher down, she looked out of the gate, walking up to it and inspecting the corridor outside. The walls and floor were the same as her cell, with no decorations that could give her a clue as to where she was and a table down the left side of the corridor with a tankard and candle on it.
The sounds of metal on metal made her look to the right to see a man, heavily clad in armour and helmet walking down. She tried to catch the guard's eye but the guard ignored her, walking past and grabbing the tankard on the way.
The woman scowled. He could have at least looked at her. Although she had little idea of what she looked like and the guard could possibly not have looked at her because she was too horrible to look at.
"Pale skin, snotty expression," she looked across the corridor and saw a man, at least, she thought it was a man sneering at her through the bars of his own cell. "You're a Breton!" the man said, "The masters of magicka, right?' She stared at the sneering expression on his face. 'Hmphh. You're nothing but a stuck-up harlot with cheap parlour tricks. Go ahead, use your magicka in here. Let's see you make those bars disappear."
She frowned at him, confused. What was a Breton? What was magicka? The women's eyes widened as the stranger moved into the light of one of the torches. His skin was a dark, almost black green. "No?" He demanded, "What's the matter?" He glared at her, much to her increasing annoyance. "Not so powerful now, are you Breton?"
Having had enough, she opened her mouth to retaliate, only to be interrupted by him. "You're not leaving this prison 'til they throw your body in the lake." He grinned as he saw her alarmed expression.
"Oh, that's right," he said, "You're going to die in here, Breton! You're going to die!"
The sound of a door slamming shut made her visibly jump and the man smirked at her. "Hey, you hear that?" he asked. "That's the guards coming… for you!" She swallowed as the man laughed cruelly as another voice echoed down the corridor.
"Baurus! Lock that the door behind us!"
"Yessir,"
"My sons… they're dead, aren't they?"
"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said that they were attacked."
"No, they're dead. I know it."
A woman came into sight round the corner, her hand on the hilt of her sword talking to an old man with long, crimson robes. "My job right now is to get you to safety." She said as they stopped outside her cell, flanked by two male guards wearing the same uniform as her. The woman had a badge on her breast reading 'Cpt. Renault'.
The prisoner stared at the Captain and the Captain stared right back, looking just as surprised as she was at finding herself in the jail cell.
"What's this prisoner doing here?" the Captain demanded, "This cell is supposed to stay off-limits."
She watched as one of the guards, his badge reading Baurus, shifted guiltily. "An unusual mix up in the watch, I…"
"Never mind. Get that gate open." The Captain ordered as she turned her eyes to the woman in the cell, who backed away from the four strangers nervously. "Stand back, prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way." Captain Renault threatened. The prisoner stumbled back, Baurus looking at her for the first time.
"You! Prisoner! Stand aside. Over by the window. Stay out of the way, and you won't get hurt." He said. The prisoner, ignoring the smirking glee of the dark-skinned prisoner opposite, stumbled back hastily until she was directly under the barred window.
The gate swung open and the three guards and the old man entered her cell, walking to her bedroll.
'No sign of pursuit, sir.' Said another guard, whose badge read 'Glenroy'.
'Good. Let's go.' Said Captain Renault. 'We're not out of this yet.'
"Stay put, prisoner," said Baurus, glaring at her. The old man, a large crimson jewel walked past, glancing at her before stopping suddenly and staring at her in shock, his face going pale and wan.
"You…" said the aged man, "I've seen you…" He turned to her and the prisoner backed away nervously. "Let me see your face..." He asked as the woman flinched as he came even closer. "It's alright," he soothed.
She slowly relaxed, not exactly knowing why but she felt fond of the old man she had just met. The old man's eyes searched her face, making her thoughts on her appearance even worse before a dawning comprehension seemed to come over his face.
"You are the one from my dreams…" he said solemnly. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day." His voice sounded strained. "Gods give me strength."
The prisoner stared at the old man. This man was talking to her as if he had always known her – but why would he? And what did he know?
She decided to try out her voice for the first time. "Who are you?" she asked quietly.
The old man smiled kindly at her, as if rewarding her for being brave and speaking up. "I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim." The prisoner stared, "By the grace of the gods, I rule Tamriel as her Emperor. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way."
She assumed Tamriel was the country they were in now. "Why am I in jail?"
Emperor Septim shrugged. "Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet." He suggested, "As for what you have done, it does not matter." He paused. "That is not what you will be remembered for."
She frowned. What was he talking about? "Why are you here?" she asked instead, wondering what the Emperor of a kingdom was doing it in a prison.
The Emperor smiled sadly. "Assassins have attacked my sons, and I am next. My Blades -" he gestured to the guards around him. "- are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."
The woman stared at the Emperor - her Emperor she supposed, perplexed beyond reason. If what he had said was true then somehow, through fate she had ended up in the cell the Emperor was escaping through. But why her? And why couldn't she remember anything?
"Sire, we really must get going." Said Captain Renault, Emperor Septim nodded.
"You appear confused, child." He said. "What is troubling you?"
She bit her lip, if she was meant to be someone then she surely, must have some memories, right? "I… I can't remember who I am, or where 'Tamriel' is or who these 'gods' are – I don't even remember my name."
"That is all the better," said the Emperor reassuringly. "For what you will do will make a new name for you." She shook her head.
"I don't even know what I must do though – how can I do anything without a name?"
"Peace, child," he interrupted her before she could continue. "All will be told in time."
She wasn't convinced. "What should I do now?"
Uriel Septim smiled. "You will find your own path. Take care... there will be blood and death before the end.'
"Please, sire, we must keep moving." the Captain said.
The Emperor nodded in agreement and turned away from her. Mind still utterly confused about everything that had happened the prisoner watched as the Captain pushed a stone in the wall, causing her raised bed of hay to lower flat on the ground and the grey brick wall behind it to swing outward, revealing a secret route out of the castle.
"Better not close this one," said the Captain. "There's no way to open it from the other side."
Baurus looked at the prisoner shrewdly. "Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way." He followed after his fellow guards and the Emperor.
She cast an uneasy look at the cell gate and ran after them, trying not to be noticed yet not lagging behind too much as they navigated through a series of underground tunnels, the walls and floor made of a white stone with numerous arches and alcoves designed to confused an intruder.
They began to descend down a set of stairs when a feeling of foreboding washed over the prisoner. She shivered and suddenly a battle cry echoed round the corner. The guards and the Emperor tensed, unsheathing their swords in unison and the guards ran forward to protect their Emperor.
"Prepare yourself," said the Emperor. The prisoner swallowed nervously and followed the Emperor through. Prepare herself? How was she supposed to defend herself with just her fists?
One of the guards shouted: "For the Emperor!" and they hurried to follow them around the corner. Men and one woman, adorned in strange red and black armour were fighting the guards. Their heads were covered in helmets that hid their faces. The prisoner gasped as Captain Renault got surrounded by several assassins and was struck fatally. She fell and a cry of outrage came from Baurus, who flew at the assassins and killed them. She stared as the assassin's armour seemed to melt off them to be replaced with blood red robes and hood.
"Are you alright, sire? We're clear for now." The Emperor nodded.
"Captain Renault?" he asked as Baurus knelt down to check her pulse.
"She's dead." Answered Baurus, straightening and shaking his head morosely, "I'm sorry, sire, but we have to keep moving."
The prisoner's heart was beating madly. Captain Renault was dead! Who were those assassins? Why was she in this prison, fighting assassins and talking to Emperors?
The Emperor shook his head as the prisoner looked at the body of the captain, holding back tears. "We have to keep moving, sire." Baurus reminded him.
The Emperor nodded and walked down some more stairs,
'How could they be waiting for us here? Said Glenroy coming to a locked wooden door.
'Don't know.' Baurus nodded reassuringly at the Emperor. 'Don't worry, sire, we will get you out of here. They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades.' He said as Glenroy unlocked the door.
'I'll take point. Let's move.' Said Glenroy as the door opened and went through. The Emperor glanced at her for a moment before walking through the door and Baurus paused before going through himself, glaring at her.
"You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us." She stared in horror at him as he followed the Emperor through and locked it.
She stood there in shock, aware that on all sides there was death and all she had to protect herself with was some wrist irons and her fists.
A muffled scratching sound suddenly piqued up and the former prisoner turned her head to see a wall of bricks with a few on the ground, revealing a room behind. Cautiously she walked forward towards the scratching sound, kneeled down and looked through the gap at the room beyond.
Angry, hungry red eyes peered at her through the gap and she cried out, falling back as the creature on the other side went frantic and pushed at the bricks until they toppled outward, the thing jumping out and on top of her, bearing its pointed yellow teeth.
Somewhere at the back of her mind she knew the creature on top of her was a 'rat' and that its teeth, with long dribbles of saliva dripping off, were very sharp. The rat grinned at her and she lashed out, knocking the rat away from her and scrambling up and backing away from it. The rat landed on its feet and turned to her, readying itself to pounce again.
She stumbled back and a loud 'clang' echoed through the passageway, causing the rat to jump back warily and she looked down, spotting Captain Renault's sword. She swooped down quickly and brought it up just in time to slash at the pouncing rat, which was knocked aside and smashed against the wall with sickening 'crunch'. It fell to the floor and she exhaled sharply, the sword held loosely in her hands as adrenaline course through her.
A scratch came from behind her and she whipped round, seeing another rat climbing through and pouncing at her. She yelped, randomly slashing the sword in front of her and decapitating it out of luck. The rat fell to the floor, the head falling just before it.
She backed away from the carcass and ran a hand over her face, finding herself crying. She collapsed, the sword clattering loudly as she curled up into a ball and laid her head on her knees; pushing all thoughts about the Emperor, her amnesia and any assassins from her mind and just sat there, crying.