The Empty Skies
The last floors of the Imperial Palace are only accessible via a winding staircase. Two hundred steps in wide circles, once in a while adorned with small platforms which allow some rest. He remembers when he had climbed to the pinnacle of his home almost every day, enjoying the unique view White Gold Tower provided not only over his city but over a good part of the Imperial province as well. Nowadays he is often too tired after Council and court-sessions to burden his old body with the exercise, today, however, he has the overwhelming urge to once again climb the stair.
An alcove draws nearer and he pauses for breath. Having seen other Ayleid ruins one may be surprised by the Tower because it's not translucent but dark, only here and there dotted with small windows to allow air circulation and a meagre amount of light. He stands now in one of the small pinpoint pools and feels his lungs ache and his knees burn. He is old.
Maybe, he thinks as he moves on, his frailty is not the only reason why he does not climb the Tower any more. As a young man he has always felt smaller when walking here, somehow the immense age of White Gold Tower and its history had made more an impression when he had been away from court. It had 'set his head right', as he had secretly called it. But that had been before his imprisonment, before his sons had turned out the way they are, before his empire started to crumble one piece at a time regardless what he does to hold it together.
Yes, he has learned humility in the course of his life.
He leaves the trapdoor at the end of the passage open as he climbs through. Light is engulfing him and he basks in it as if he has stayed weeks and weeks underground. Only when his eyes have grown accustomed to the brightness does he step away from the door and over to the battlements. Cyrodiil is around him, beautiful and fresh, the very heart and soul of Dawns Beauty. He feels a smile tug on his lips.
It freezes, however, as he spots a figure approaching White Gold Tower.
It is a man of medium build, he can see, with brown hair blowing this way and that as Kynareth plays with it. His clothes speak of nothing – neither wealth nor poverty nor profession and he is bold, as Uriel discovers when the man realizes that someone is standing on the very spot that is the intended goal of his journey.
"Greetings" says the newcomer, a young Imperial, as soon as he has stepped onto the piles. He bows briefly.
Uriel nods in return. He is bewildered but knows his features betray nothing of it. "Good morning." he says in return. Both eye the other, not knowing what to say or to do.
"Please excuse my intrusion, your majesty," the other ventures at last. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy. If I'd known you'd be here I wouldn't have come today."
Uriel is surprised at this. "But you would have come nevertheless?" he asks. "There are many people who would consider stepping on White Gold Tower an intrusion to my privacy whether I was here or not."
"It's not trespassing if I'm not in the palace," the other replies defiantly but cannot hide his growing anxiety. "And I can leave any minute if I'm bothering you."
Uriel considers this. "You may stay a moment longer. I have some questions for you." He can see the other swallow nervously. "There won't be any harm." Yet, he adds in his mind. He is fascinated by the blatant daring in the other man's actions but is still uncertain about his motifs. "Why are you here?" he asks.
"Well" says the other and relaxes a bit. "The Imperial Palace can be seen from everywhere in the city and even from every high point for miles around, so I thought, it must be the same the other way around, too."
"So you came here for a good view?" Uriel clarifies. "In broad daylight?"
"Wouldn't have made sense by night, would it?" The other relaxes so far as to accompany his words with a grin. Uriel unwinds a fraction himself as he sees the other under the spell of his voice. It is a knack that runs in the family.
"And you came up here with a spell? You do not look like a mage."
"Heavens, no! I never managed so much as a healing spell in my whole life. I'm a saddler's apprentice. My uncle trades in liquors and brought me this from Morrowind." He flourishes a small dagger, intricately carved steel and shiny. "There's an enchantment on it, so when I hold it this way and blow on it it'll get me up in the air. Ever since I got it I wondered, what to do with it."
"Really?" Uriel asks in astonishment. He can think of a dozen of things one could do with such a weapon, several involve himself, an assassin and a dark corridor. But there is no malice in the other's eyes. Can he really be that gullible? "May I see it for a minute?" he asks and is handed the weapon. A gullible idiot indeed! Uriel considers for a moment to have the boy killed as an act of mercy. He slips the weapon into his robe instead and steps back from the other, leisurely calling: "Captain." The other's face breaks into a mask of terror when he's suddenly grasped by thin air and an instant pushed to the ground by Uriel's personal bodyguard who's dropped his invisibility spell. Without his weapon and held down by muscular arms realization hits hard and he breaks into sobs.
"P... Please! Don't kill me! Don't kill me, please!"
Both men look up at him. "One last question," Uriel says, daring the boy to lie. "Who knows of you being here?"
He watches the boy's eyes widen as he realizes that the honest answer will get him into more trouble but he can't lie to his Emperor.
"No one," he breathes in defeat.
Uriel nods and allows a small smile to play around his lips. "You have just been anviled into the Imperial Legion. Captain, bring him to the recruits leaving for Fort Swampmoth", he orders over the boy's horrified shriek. "Blackmarsh's swamps will teach him to reconsider every step he takes and the Argonians' hatred for the Legion will teach him not to trust easily." His guard nods and hauls the struggling boy away. He doesn't know it yet, but the boy owes him his life. If he is clever enough to learn and listen.
Uriel stays an hour longer on the parapet, watching the flight of the birds, listening to the sounds of his city. In a fortnight the Levitation Act will have passed the Elder Council and with it every spell, every book, every item regarding the art of Levitation will be forbidden everywhere in the Empire.