Title: Telophase
Author: BurningSilence
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I think we all know I don't own Oblivion, or anything else in the Elder Scrolls series. Except for my own original characters, they are mine.
Summary: Set in the same universe as 'Vicissitudes'; treat it like a prologue. A fairly lengthy prologue. Begins in Felicienne's home of Jehanna in High Rock roughly four months before the main quest starts, and ends after the 'Final Resting' quest in the Shivering Isles, a week and a half after escaping the Imperial Prison. Includes Captain Renault, Glenroy, Baurus, Uriel Septim, Hirrus Clutumnus, and a cameo by Lucien Lachance. Also, there's an excerpt from Chapter VI 'Forgotten Paths' in here as well.
Ninth of Rain's Hand, 3E 433
County of Jehanna, High Rock
Ermelinda Sauveterre was furiously trying to blink back tears as she rushed back to her home from the city gates of Jehanna. She'd overheard the whispering of those vicious old shrews who used to be friends of hers.
"Did you hear about Ermelinda's brother? I heard he flung himself off of the Count's castle."
"Everyone knew that Dante would meet a bad end. I don't know why the Count would want a seer…completely insane, all of them."
"We all knew he was crazy, even his family! Why do you think his only sister banned him from her home?"
As she burst through her front door, her youngest, Felicienne, lifted her head up from her book and asked worriedly, "What's wrong Mother?"
Ermelinda kept her face down, trying to control her emotions, "Nothing, sweetling. Don't worry about it."
"Did you hear people whispering about Uncle Dante?" the girl asked.
Her mother looked up, surprised, "Why would you ask that?"
Felicienne shrugged and closed her book. "I heard some people yesterday when I was in town. Big Brother told me not to listen to them. But I heard them anyway. Uncle Dante wasn't crazy, Mother."
The way her daughter said that…almost accusingly. She knew Felicienne felt like it was her fault Dante killed himself. She had forbade him from coming back to her home. She was worried about the ideas he was putting into Felicienne's head.
Dante had always been a dreamer; a quality that was compounded by the constant visions he received. He always had lofty ideas of being an adventurer; traveling to exotic places, tales of bravery and heroism…and the list went on.
And he kept filling her daughter's head will all of these stories.
She couldn't let that happen, she didn't want her daughter picking up and moving to Mara-knows-where doing gods-know-what. Her daughter needed to stay in High Rock, marry a nice, respectable man, and have a family. Like her friend Chiarina. Or at the very least join the Mages' Guild like most other people in her family. It was certainly safer than her gallivanting off like she seemed so keen on doing.
The final straw had been Felicienne talking about possibly traveling to Morrowind to poke around in those Dark Elves' business. It wasn't that she wanted to smother Felicienne…it was just too dangerous. The Houses of Morrowind were unstable, causing too much social unrest…and there were even rumours of a Daedric invasion in Cyrodiil. Felicienne had no place running around Tamriel while she should be settling down, living a nice, safe life.
Unlike her father.
The Gods only knew what Tristan did while he was away on 'business'. More often than not he came home with various injuries in different stages of healing. Whenever she'd ask him what had happened, he always had the same explanation; bandits.
She supposed when she was younger, this was as good a reason as any; but now that she was a (little) older, wiser, and had children of her own, she began to question her husband's whereabouts. It wasn't that she felt he was unfaithful, that thought had never crossed her mind, she just didn't fully believe that he was truly away on guild business.
Now he did take his duties as a Mages' Guild Warlock very seriously, but Ermelinda knew those duties didn't take him away from Jehanna as often as he might claim.
"Mother," Felicienne's soft voice broke through her mother's musings. "You're doing it again."
Ermelinda looked at her daughter and smiled gently. "What am I doing?"
"Worrying. You get little wrinkles on your forehead when you worry. It gives you away every time."
The older woman's hand flew up to her forehead, seemingly trying to smooth away any lines that might be there, unaware of the smirk gracing her daughter's lovely face.
"Father's home, by the way. He arrived while you were still in town, I think he brought you a present," Felicienne sniffed, returning to her book. "Probably to keep you from asking him so many questions."
"Felicienne Mirabelle Sauveterre…" her mother began, but was cut off with a groan.
"What did I do to you to for you to give me the name Mirabelle?" the girl huffed, then sighed resignedly. "I'm sorry, I just don't like for the both of you to fight. And you always fight whenever you ask him too many questions."
"I know, but you know I worry about your father…and you."
Felicienne looked surprised, "Why me?" Then she scoffed, "I don't go anywhere. The only 'new and exciting' place I'll be traveling to is Evermor…and that's while I visit Chiarina's home."
Ermelinda sat down next to Felicienne on the sofa and scooted closer to the girl. She gently pried 'The Brother's of Darkness' out of her daughter's small hands. When Ermelinda got a good look at the title, her face blanched.
"Where did you get this?" she exclaimed, panicked.
"From the bookstore, it's just reading material. It's not like I'm planning on contacting the Dark Brotherhood; there's no one I want dead." She paused, thinking, "On second thought, I wouldn't mind it if that Cyrille Beaumont managed to go missing suddenly. She always says the nastiest things about Uncle. And she always looks at me as if I'm something on the bottom of her shoe."
"Felicienne!"
"Oh mother! I know you wouldn't mind either!"
Ermelinda tried to stifle her smile, "I'm not saying anything."
"I told you," the girl smiled.
Tristan rolled his eyes listening to his wife and daughter bicker back and forth. His father was right; two women should never live under the same roof. Although, he was thankful for Felicienne running interference on his behalf with Ermelinda. He loved the woman, but she was the nosiest person at times, and he knew that telling her bandits were the cause of his injuries again wouldn't go over well. That last mark had been a great deal more difficult than he was used to.
Or maybe he was getting older.
That thought unsettled him. He supposed he was a bit too old to be doing this sort of work still; he may need to think of trying for a more…clerical job. Leaving altogether wasn't an option; he had no interest ending up like that Battlemage traitor they'd had twenty years ago in Camlorn. And he did have a family to think about.
Although, Tristan hadn't ever been sure they'd dealt with the real traitor…but those were thoughts for another time. Right now, he needed to greet his wife.
He stepped into the living room with a wide smile on his face, "Well, I certainly hope my daughter isn't thinking of contacting the Dark Brotherhood."
Felicienne fixed her father with a pointed stare, "No, I was thinking of going to their competitors, you know, the Morag Tong. I'm wondering if they can give me a two for one deal."
Tristan laughed when he saw his wife cringe, "I thought it was just the one woman."
"I'm sure I can think of someone else if they can give me the deal," the girl said. "Mother, stop that, please. I'm not having anyone killed, don't worry."
Ermelinda gave a little 'hmph' and stood up, "I have dinner to make, I'll let you two trouble makers plot while I'm gone. But Felicienne, really, would you please at least consider going into the Mages' Guild?"
'Here it comes,' Tristan thought, glancing briefly at his daughter.
"I just don't understand why you can't be more like your brother…"
"You mean twenty-four and still living with my parents? And no marriage prospects?" Felicienne interjected.
Tristan had to disguise a laugh into a rather terrible sounding cough.
"I'm going to make dinner," her mother sighed.
"Why do you give your mother such a hard time?" he asked. "For that matter, why do you give your brother such a rough time?"
"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you it's because I love them, would you?"
"Not really, no."
"Mother wants me to be like Ambroise; working in the Mages' Guild, 'wiping out' Necromancy…and don't get me wrong, I think Necromancy is disgusting. I mean, they play with dead bodies all day." Felicienne wrinkled her nose and shuddered. "And then she wants me to get married and have a small litter of children that she can coo over. I just…don't want that. I want to travel, I know I probably wouldn't know what I was doing if I ever got the chance, but…at least I'd have it, you know?"
"I know, when I was younger…I did things in my haste to be on my own…things I'm not particularly proud of. But in all honesty, I wouldn't change a thing. It's part of what led me to your mother."
Felicienne rolled her eyes, "That was stomach ache inducing. Besides, I can't imagine the Mages' Guild is that exciting."
She noticed her father faltered for a moment, before recovering enough to say, "You'd be surprised about some of the things that can happen while there."
She waited for him to elaborate, but he never did. She brought her book into her lap and looked down, "Father…I told mother I got this book from the store…so she wouldn't worry. But, I got this book from the basement, in your training room…I found some other things too, but I didn't look too closely. I just grabbed the book and left."
Tristan felt his heart stop for a moment. Out of everyone he knew, his children were the last people he wanted to know about this. "Felicienne…"
"If it's something I shouldn't know I'll forget where I found this book. Although, I mean, you could just be interested in esoteric groups like me, right?"
He smiled softly and nodded his head, "Yes, I suppose it's a bit of a vice. Who knows what I'll stumble across if I keep nosing around, eh?"
"I knew that was probably it. You know, it's a good thing it was me who found this. If it had been mother you'd never hear the end of it. Ambroise probably wouldn't say anything, but you never know. He'd probably feed mother's paranoia," the girl smiled.
Looking at his daughter, who was now avidly reading his book, Tristan decided what he'd do; he was going to put in for a safer position tomorrow, before they could come up with any new contracts for him.
BANG BANG BANG
"Ambroise, could you get that? I'm a little busy. Felicienne's going to be home tonight and I want t o finish dinner! It's her favourite, and I don't want it to spoil!" Ermelinda called out.
She could hear her son amble to the door and open it…
"Oh gods, no!" he cried out. Suddenly there was the crackling sound of lightening humming through the air.
"Get out!" Ambroise yelled at his assailants. Ermelinda scrambled out of the kitchen to see her son being attacked by…
"Necromancers…" she breathed, her face white with terror. There were about six of them, and Ambroise looked like he wouldn't last much longer.
Before she could really think about what she was doing, she hurled off a frost ball, striking one in the shoulder.
"Look, another one!" one of the Necromancers cackled. "She'll make a good little flesh puppet, won't she?"
"Get the hell away from my son!" Ermelinda shouted, ready to fire another projectile at the monster. Unfortunately, another Necromancer had crept up behind Ambroise and before he or his mother could react, she plunged a knife into his throat.
Ermelinda screamed as she saw her son's blood rushing out of his neck, staining the wood a deep rose colour.
Blinded by tears, the last thing she was aware of was a dull pain in the back of her head, followed by darkness…
…then next thing she was aware of were just flashes. Random scenes pieced together by an unknown hand; Tristan coming home, finding Necromancers instead of his family…Tristan dying…their home, up in flames, but Felicienne was, thankfully outside…Felicienne running away to Cyrodiil…and then finally…
A man in dark robes inside her daughter's room, watching Felicienne sleep, until he said something that made Ermelinda's blood run cold:
"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer."
She woke up, gasping for breath.
"What's wrong," Tristan's muffled voice asked and he reached an arm out to touch his wife's shaking form.
"Nothing," she breathed. "It was nothing. Just a nightmare, that's all."
"Are you sure?" Tristan asked, waking up more fully now.
"Yes, I'm sure. It was just a bad dream. It's probably from all of the stress right now. I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Don't apologize, it's fine. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't wake when my wife is terrified?" he joked, grinning at her.
She hit his arm softly, "Quiet you."
Sixth of Last Seed, 3E 433
"Mother, I'm not a child, I can pack for a short trip to my friend's house," Felicienne sighed.
"Oh, let me do this for you, I won't see you for two whole weeks!" her mother chirped as she continued folding different dresses and placing them in Felicienne's satchel.
"It's just a county over; it isn't like I'm going all the way to Daggerfall," Felicienne murmured absently. "I'm an adult, mother. I'll be leaving to be on my own, soon."
Ermelinda stopped abruptly, her hands shaking as she set another dress down. "I know that, dear. Just…please promise me you'll stay in the area?" she asked hopefully.
Felicienne shook her head, "I can't promise that. But don't worry so much; I won't leave until next Sun's Dawn…when I'm twenty. Alright?"
Her mother frowned, but acquiesced, "I understand. I do, really. I guess I just worry more now since your brother's been getting those threats from the Necromancer's Cult."
"It's not just Big Brother…other members from the Mages' Guild are receiving those as well," Felicienne added and then cringed. That hadn't been as reassuring as she'd hoped it would be.
"And thank you for reminding me of that, child," Ermelinda muttered, as she resumed packing Felicienne's things.
"I think that's enough clothing, mother," her daughter chimed. "I'm only going to be away for two weeks."
"I just don't want you to run out of clothes while you're gone," her mother said, smiling softly.
"I don't think I'm in any danger of that," Felicienne commented as she rummaged through her drawers for a set of trousers and at least one linen shirt. She wasn't planning on just staying inside the whole time she was at Chiarina's. Her husband was going to be away for the two weeks she was visiting, so Felicienne thought they might do something interesting. Even if it was just poking around in old ruins.
Felicienne was decent enough with a sword and was a good marksman. And both she and Chiarina were well trained in the school of Destruction, however, Chiarina was better with Restoration spells than Felicienne was. Felicienne scoffed; those skills would probably come in handy if Chiarina was going to be a 'mummy' some day.
"What are you laughing at?" Ermelinda asked, raising an eyebrow.
Felicienne smiled, "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about Chiarina, and how I'll feel terrible for the children she'll have."
"I think she'd make a wonderful mother," the older woman protested.
"She'll hover too much...Like another mother I know," Felicienne smirked.
"Alright, alright. I understand; I'll let you finish your packing. Brat."
"Thank you!"
Ermelinda stepped out of her daughter's room and walked down the steps into the living room, where she proceeded to flop down on the sofa and lean back for awhile.
She supposed she did worry too much; after all, it wasn't like Felicienne couldn't take care of herself. Tristan had been adamant that he train their daughter somewhat in combat. Ambroise didn't take to melee combat like Felicienne had, though. He seemed content to use magick for defense, much like herself.
She sighed as she made herself more comfortable. Tomorrow, Felicienne would be leaving for Evermore, Ambroise would be looking for a house of his own (although he promised he wouldn't move out for another month, just to make his mother feel better), and Tristan didn't have any traveling arrangements made. They'd finally be able to spend some time together, alone.
The thought made Ermelinda oddly giddy.
Twenty-seventh of Last Seed, 3E 433
The Imperial City Prison in the Imperial City; Cyrodiil
"Shut up, Dreth! Someday, you're going to say the wrong thing, to the wrong person, and then you'll finally get what's coming to you! You're an animal, Dreth," a gruff voice shouted, while leaving rations in Felicienne's and the Dunmer's cell.
"I'm sure your wife will agree with the 'animal' part, Imperial pig! Bet she hasn't been satisfied in years!" the man in the other cell; Dreth, she assumed, goaded the guard.
Felicienne rubbed her eyes, sleep hadn't come easy last night, or, at least she didn't think it did. Truthfully, she couldn't remember a thing about what happened last night, just that she was wandering around near Imperial City, trying to find an place to stay for the time being, then someone grabbing her, the smell of alcohol…and then nothing .
She huffed in frustration and crawled to the meager scraps of food she'd been given. An apple, some bread, and a small cup of water, she sighed; maybe they planned on starving her.
"Oh, well would you look at that?" cooed an oily voice. "Pale skin, snotty expression. No need to guess who you are; you're a Breton. The 'masters' of magicka! You're nothing but a stuck up harlot with cheap parlour tricks! Bet you can't make those bars disappear, can you? Ha!"
Felicienne bristled at his taunts, but dread was becoming a heavy stone that weighed down in her stomach. What had she done to be arrested?
"But what's a pretty little thing like you doing in here? I heard you attacked a couple members of the Imperial Legion. Nearly killed one of them. The guards down here weren't very happy about that, let me tell you! But I'm sure they'll treat you real nice when they get a good look at you, they always treat the pretty one's well. You know, one of the guards owes me a favour, I could get us put in the same cell. Usually my tastes only lie in Dunmer maidens, but it's been so long I find I couldn't care right now. And you're pretty enough. You might as well have some fun before you die. Oh, that's right; you're going to die in here, Breton! You're going to die!" he cackled.
Felicienne felt several things at that moment; first and foremost was a strange combination of nausea/disgust. As if she'd let anyone lay their hands on her! Followed quickly by fear…they were going to kill her? That had to be just talk; obviously the Dark Elf was deranged. And then there was confusion; how could she be punished for something she didn't remember? Why would she have attacked anyone in the Legion. She may not have the utmost respect for them, but that didn't mean she'd attack them. She wasn't that stupid. They had have gotten the wrong person!
Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and hushed voices speaking rapidly.
"You hear that, Breton? They're coming for you!"
Oh, gods, they were going to kill her! And she wasn't even sure what she'd done! She could feel her eyes brim with tears threatening to overflow as she heard the steps coming closer and closer.
"My sons…they're dead, aren't they?" an elderly man asked.
"We don't know that, sire. The messenger only said they were attacked," a woman explained.
"No…they're dead…I know it."
Felicienne felt a chill creep up her spine when she heard the finality in the old man's tone.
"My job right now is to get you to safety," the woman stated as the group finally came into view. She glanced over to Felicienne's cell, "What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits!" the same woman yelled.
Her demand was followed quickly by a man stumbling, "Th-the usual mix up at the Watch, I…"
"Never mind," she cut him off. "Get that gate open," the stern woman demanded. Then, she looked to the girl in the prison cell and addressed her, "Stand back, prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."
Felicienne swallowed thickly as a large, armoured man came to a stop in front of her.
"Stand here," he pointed. "By the window."
The woman was talking to an elderly man dressed very expensively, (the same man she assumed who was asking about his sons earlier), but Felicienne couldn't make out the words she was saying. But soon she, the well dressed man, and another entered her cell. At a loss, she merely stood there looking down as the group walked through her cell.
"You…I've seen you…" the elderly man murmured, just loud enough to hear.
He walked over to her and lifted her chin up with his hand. "Let me see your face," the continued in the same low tone he'd used before. His eyes widened, "You're the one from my dreams…" His expression fell as he continued on, "Then the stars are right, and this is the day…Gods' give me strength."
"W-what's going on?" she stuttered, feeling exposed under his unwavering gaze.
"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next," he stated. He gestured to the three people behind him, "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."
Felicienne swallowed again, feeling her mouth go dry. With difficulty, she asked her next question, "Who are you?"
The old man smiled, "I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You will come to serve Tamriel in your own way."
Everything was quickly becoming far too surreal for Felicienne, so on whim, she asked, "Then what am I doing here, in prison?"
"Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you've done, it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."
"You…you're pardoning me?" she asked, in amazement. "What do I do now?" she questioned, at a loss.
"You will go your own way. Our paths will cross again."
The guards opened up a secret door on the side of her cell and led the Emperor through it. One of the men turned to her and gave her a stern look. "It looks like it's your lucky day, prisoner. Stay out of our way."
After they had all left, Felicienne looked around, and finally stepped through the hidden door.
'I hate goblins,' she thought with a grimace as she finally made her way back to the Imperial Subterrane. As she approached the caverns' exit, she heard voices floating up from below her.
"…should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives."
"Help? What makes you think will get here before more of those bastards? We need to get the Emperor out of here."
Felicienne, seeing no other option for her, jumped down. Unfortunately, she happened to do so as the Blades and the Emperor were being attacked…again.
By the time she made it to them, they'd already dealt with the would-be assassins, but she kept the steel sword she'd taken from their captain's body earlier drawn. Just in case.
One of the men noticed her and glared, "Damn it! It's that prisoner again! Kill her; she might be working with the assassins."
She panicked, and took a defensive position. She wouldn't be pardoned only to just be killed soon after!
But the Emperor held up his hand, "No, she is not one of them. She can help us…she must help us."
Her first response would have been; 'I don't have to help anybody!' However, she didn't think that'd be a great way to endear herself to a man who had the power to order her execution…and he had been very kind to her. He'd now saved her life not once, but twice.
So, it was with that thought that she sheathed her sword.
"Come here," the Emperor motioned. "I'd prefer not to shout."
Cautiously she walked towards the man, and looked at him questioningly.
"They cannot understand why I trust you. They have not seen what I've seen. How can I explain?" He seemed to think a moment, before lifting his head back up and he began speaking again, "You know the Nine? How They guide our fates with an invisible hand?"
Felicienne looked down, remembering the events of the past weeks before she answered, "I'm not on good terms with the Gods right now."
He smiled softly and placed a warm hand on her bony shoulder, "I've served the Nine all of my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder…which sign marked your birth?"
'He knows he's about to die, and he wants to know my sign?' she thought. "I was born under the Lover," she murmured, a little confused.
"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."
She thought for a moment, and then looked up, "What about me?"
The Emperor smiled and told her "Your stars are not mine. Today, the Lover shall sweeten your journey as you confront your fate."
It seemed all of a sudden Felicienne felt very sad. With a heavy heart, she asked, "Aren't you afraid to die?"
With a solemn face, he answered her, "No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this, I am blessed to see the hour of my death…to face my apportioned fate, then fall."
She took a deep breath, for she felt as if she were near tears. It was strange to her, to see someone so resolved in their fate, that they faced their death unflinchingly. And for some unfathomable reason, he wanted her help.
And who was she to deny him?
"Where do we go?" she asked, her eyes still stinging.
"I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me…" he paused and smiled. "You shall follow me yet, for a while. Then we must part."
They all continued through the Subterrane, and were attacked twice more, before they encountered a dead end. Both the guards felt that it was a trap, and told Felicienne to guard the Emperor while they tried to figure something out.
As Uriel and she waited, the older man took on a far away look on his face, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Soon, they heard the sound of a fight breaking out; the assassins must have caught up with them. Uriel then turned to Felicienne with a somber expression on his face.
"I can go no farther. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" He took his amulet off and placed it in Felicienne's trembling hand. "Take the Amulet. Give it Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." He looked at her piercingly and his next words made her blood run cold, "Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."
Before Felicienne could react, a wall behind them slid open, and an assassin in daedric armour cut down the Emperor.
"NO!" she screamed, bringing her sword down on their attacker.
He easily deflected the weak blow and taunted her, "Stranger, you chose a bad day to take up with the cause of the Septims."
The two guards rushed in, but it wasn't so easy to kill the assassin. Before he was disposed of, one of the guards-Glenroy, she heard his name was-was struck down, and both she and Baurus-the young one-were injured.
Baurus brought a hand up to his face, "No, Talos save us…"
Felicienne just looked on, wanting to cry. She knew the Emperor was going to die either way; he'd told her as much. But she still couldn't help but feel horrible about it happening.
"We've failed…I've failed," Baurus lamented. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead." He bent down and checked the Emperor's body. "The Amulet! Where's the Amulet?"
"He gave it to me," she spoke up at last.
He looked pensive, "Strange…he saw something in you…trusted you. They say it's the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men. The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry." He said dismissively, then shook his head. "He must have given it to you for a reason, did he say why?"
"I must take it to Jauffre," she stated, looking at Uriel Septim's body.
"Jauffre? He said that? Why?"
"There's another heir," Felicienne mumbled absently, feeling the effects of her fatigue and previous head injury. After she got out of here, she would definitely need to rest. Preferably a nice, warm, safe bed.
Baurus looked shocked, but said, "Nothing I ever heard about. But Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my Order." He winced slightly, "Although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory near the city of Chorrol."
"How do I get there?"
"First, you need to get out of here. Through that door," he indicated the doorway the assassin made, "must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were heading. It's a secret way out of the Imperial City…or…it was supposed to be secret." He handed her a small brass key, telling her she'd need it to get out of the sewers.
She cringed, "The sewers?"
"There are rats and goblins down there…but from what I've seen of you, I'm guessing you can handle yourself."
"Yes, I'll be fine. Apparently I'm great at dealing with rats and goblins, but it's assassins I'm terrible with," she mocked herself. "And after the sewers?"
"You'll have to swim to the Red Ring Road. Don't worry, it's a straight shot. Then turn left and follow it until you get to the Black Road; follow the Black Road through Fort Ash, and you should come up on Weynon Priory. If you need to rest, there's an inn called Roxey's Inn nearby. But proceed to the Priory immediately. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand," she mumbled.
"Good, I'm glad to see the Emperor's trust in you was well placed.
She sighed and brushed her hair out of her face, "What about you? Where will you go?"
"I'll stay here and guard the Emperor's body, and make sure that no one follows you. You'd better get moving. May Talos guide you."
Eighth of Heartfire 3E 433
Crucible, the Demented District; New Sheoth
"Pssst! Over here!" someone whispered. Felicienne looked around, only to see an Imperial man with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes lurking in the shadows near a sewer.
"Yeah, you! Come here!"
Cautiously, Felicienne approached the man, wondering what he would want her to do.
"I have a proposition for you," he stated simply. "Are you interested in earning some loot?"
The girl bit her lip; she could really use the money. She really needed to repair her steel sword; it was rather worse for wear. "Sure," she answered, narrowing her eyes at him. She'd gotten some…unusual requests here. Like someone asked her to find him a safe place to sleep because he was afraid of the walls falling on him. And then there was the Khajiit looking for something called the Calming Pants…whatever those were.
The man heaved a sigh and smiled. "Great! There's a…simple task. Yes," he nodded in confirmation, "A simple task that you must perform."
"What do you want me to do?" she questioned. This was starting to smell a bit fishy.
The man's face dropped, and his body slumped in a defeated posture…it was so reminiscent of her late Uncle Dante, that she couldn't help but want to reach out to him.
"This life, it's…well, it's too painful. Everywhere I look, I see death, dying, and decay. When I dream, I see a world without sunshine. I'm constantly on the verge of retching up, or falling asleep, or screaming at someone who doesn't deserve it. I'm just so fed up with it all."
Felicienne's thoughts turned dark and she muttered with out thinking, "Why don't you kill yourself, then?"
He looked at her like she'd brutally murdered his pet, "Have you seen those poor souls on the Hill of Suicides? What kind of existence is that? Repeating every day, as if nothing's changed! No, I can't do that…how would that be any better than this?" He smiled in a deranged fashion, "No, you must kill me!"
"Come again?" Felicienne questioned, not truly believing what she'd heard.
"I need you to kill me!"
She heard herself reply before her mind could catch up with her mouth, "How do you want to die?" 'What?' she shouted at herself.
"I don't necessarily want to see it coming." Not unreasonable. "And I want to die here in the city, so all these people will finally believe me. They'll wish they were nicer."
Felicienne wanted to bang her head into a wall.
"You probably want to do it without spectators, though, so you don't get into trouble. Best to make it look like an accident."
'No,' she thought. 'I was going to brutally murder you in the middle of the streets, in front of the Gods and everybody…and those scary Dark Seducers.'
"But remember!" he was quick to interject. "I don't want to see it coming! Take me unaware!"
"So it should look accidental…how?"
"Well, that's up to you, I suppose. I'll just go about my life, such as it is, as if nothing has changed. Make your move when you wish, but please, do it soon?"
She furrowed her brows and then remembered something, " Hey! What about my reward?" She wasn't doing this creepy task without some kind of recompense.
"Ohhh, that. When you kill me, take the key to my house. Nothing really worth taking, except what's locked up inside the jewelry box. You can have that." He rubbed his hands together in what looked like anticipation, "Alright then, I'm going to go now and pretend everything is normal. Make your move soon but please…let me get away first so I won't see it coming."
With that, he walked away, and she went to the steps that led up to New Sheoth Palace and sat down on them.
After awhile, she glanced up, and saw the man's silhouette at the top of the balcony, looking over Crucible. Seeing him there gave her an idea…she'd just have to make sure the guard there wouldn't notice her pushing a man over the edge. Although a quick glance at the ground underneath told her this wouldn't be the first time someone met their end that way.
She trudged up the stairs and stood behind the Imperial. Apparently sensing her presence, he turned to speak to her.
"Sometimes I just come up here to think. Everything looks so small from up here. Makes me feel better, you know? Like I'm not so small myself…but that feeling only lasts for a little while. Then I start thinking about how miserable everything is, and then all I want to do is step off the ledge. I can't just jump," he said miserably. "I don't want to end up on the Hill. But I hope that someday maybe a big gust of wind will come push me off so I can end it all."
Unable to hold herself back, she flung her arms around him and held him tightly. She just couldn't bear it. Her family's deaths were too raw in her memory, and this man reminded her so much of Dante she couldn't stand it…and how could she think to deny him his peace. So she whispered softly into his ear, "Well, today is you lucky day."
His eyes widened as she stepped back and pushed him over. She let out a shuddering breath as she walked past the guard, feeling cold. She glanced over at the Dark Seducer who merely smiled and stated, "We should really put up a railing; that happens all the time."
'That's a comforting notion,' she thought as she walked down to collect her victim's key. After she'd retrieved it, she began looking for the house with the same number that was on the key. When she found it, she looked around to see if anyone was watching, and after she'd determined no one was around, she let herself in.
When she stepped inside, she was accosted with the smell of both old and fresh blood. A quick glance to the table showed the 'instruments' responsible for the bloodshed. Wanting to be done with the whole ordeal as quickly as possible, she went up to what looked like a bedroom and found the jewelry box.
Opening the small, wooden box, she found a ring that appeared to be enchanted, if the shimmer around it was anything to go by. And along with the ring, she found a note labeled 'Hirrus Clutumnus's Will'
She unfolded the paper and read through it. Whether it was the note itself, the stress and grief of the past few weeks she didn't know, but after reading his letter, she began to sob.
Hirrus Clutumnus's Will*
I've wanted to die for quite some time. Things just aren't going right. Never have gone right, really. No one seems to care, either, nor even notice I exist. Not that I'd have much to say even if someone wanted to be my friend. I'd make a lousy friend anyway. I'm probably even boring the person reading this. I'm certainly boring myself. Not that anyone will ever find this note. Oh, but if they do!
If they do, it means I've been granted my greatest wish! To be released from this mortal coil. This isn't a suicide note, no. That would mean I've taken my own life, and we all know what that means. Who wants that kind of existence, to be reborn on a hill everyday, reset as if nothing ever happened? That's even worse than the life I'm living. Life I've lived! Yes, yes, yes! I'm sure I'm happy now. The dead me. The me writing this note isn't happy at all. Never have been happy, really.
Anyway, the purpose of this note is to say to the man or woman who killed me: "Thank you!"
All I really have is this queer little ring. A wizard gave it to me once, said I reminded him of his dead son. I guess I resemble his dead son even more now. Anyway, he said it would make me happy. Lift the weight of the world off my shoulders, or some such thing. Come to think of it, it's the only time anyone has ever given me anything. Personally, I think the thing is worthless…just like me.
I tried it for awhile, the Happiness Ring, but eventually I couldn't wear it anymore. It made me feel odd—not myself. I didn't like feeling that way so I locked it away. It's pretty enough, though. It might fetch a few gold coins at the merchant. Sorry not to leave much more behind. But, my life never really amounted to much anyway, did it?
Yours very truly,
Hirrus Clutumnus, deceased
…
*Actual text taken from the game
A/N: Yet another oneshot from yours truly when I should be working on the next chapter for 'Vicissitudes' ^_^. Sorry about that. I guess I just felt like filling in some of the blanks of Felicienne's history.