The evening was calm and cool. The breeze lapped over the hills and valleys of Cyrodill and trotted its path between the towns that dotted the picturesque countryside. The sun sat slumped on the horizon and lazily dragged itself away sending hues of orange and purple clashing against each other as the night ebbed into the sky; wielding heavy clouds in its hands, the darkness fell. Sat aloft upon a pedestal of rock and earth was the proud shining city, Kvatch. The warm atmosphere glimmered off the city with a radiant light, and Jesan Rilian couldn't agree more.
He leaned against the eastern wall, taking a small break from his perimeter duties. He removed his helmet and rubbed down his short brown hair, whilst trying to sneakily acquire a bottle of mead from a loose brick in the wall.
"Thought the wife had managed to get you off that stuff" came a voice from his side. He clumsily juggled the bottle and hid it behind his back before realizing who owned the voice.
A tall figure beamed a knowing smile down at Jesan and also removed his helmet. His golden skin caught the final instances of sunlight and flung them into Jesan's eyes. He flinched and then addressed his surprise guest.
"You're one to talk Merandil, I've never seen you off this so called "stuff"" laughed Jesan
"That may be," replied Merandil, "But at least I don't have a wife and child to worry about making myself a fool to"
Jesan retrieved his bottle from behind his back and took a swig, "Cut me some slack friend, it's the final days of Last Seed; I've got a loving family, a well paid do-nothing job, and free seats to the best arena in the entirety of Cyrodill. A man's got to allow himself to live a little."
Merandil peered down from the eastern wall onto the sights and sounds of the city. The view was amazing, one could see the whole arena stage, the courtyard of Castle Kvatch, and even into the bell tower of the Chapel of Akatosh.
"Well I must admit you've got a pretty beautiful spot here" remarked Merandil.
Before Jesan could respond, thunder rolled from out its cage and over the clouds that had gradually crept overhead. Suddenly the clouds stopped and burst forth.
Jesan scrabbled to put his helmet back on and secreted his bottle of mead back behind the loose brick.
"For the love of Akatosh, where did this come from?" enquired Merandil, who was also trying to replace his helmet with great difficulty.
"Ah it always seems to rain around here anyway. Always." grumbled Jesan, who was trying to light his torch fruitlessly in the torrential rain.
After a number of ever-increasingly desperate attempts, Jesan lifted his lit torch up high and smiled proudly.
"What do you say to a quick one at the inn? My treat."
"No thanks Jesan, I'm still trying to recover from last week's binge. We Altmer are very susceptible to alcohol you know. And besides, your wife said you're not supposed to be drinking any more"
Jesan sighed, exasperated, "You're no fun when you're sober. It's all "Altmer this, and Altmer that". I told Captain Matius you'd be there too. As for my "problem", so long as I don't drink too much mead I'm fine."
Merandil looked deeply confused for a moment and asked, "Why mead of all things?"
Jesan looked around as the rain crashed over the city and breathed out sharply, "Look, we're just getting soaked here. If you just come with me to the inn I'll explain everything. You coming?"
Merandil tapped his belt and looked upwards briefly in thought, only to receive a face full of rain water. He spluttered and collected himself from his display.
"Yes" me murmured as he wiped his face dry on his already soaked guard uniform.
The great hall of Castle Kvatch was alive with music and dancing. The tables were lined with prestigious faces, including Count Ormellius Goldwine himself. In the courtyard, children were playing in the rain, jumping in puddles and chasing each other in the nooks and crannies of the palace courtyard. Two guards stood watch over the castle gate, barely moving in the powerful rain.
Back indoors, past the luxurious great hall, was the kitchen. An average sized room filled with racks and barrels of food all ready to be prepared. Slaving away in the kitchen was Milena Rilian, the castle's soup chef. She was a strange sight to behold; a eloquent and gentle-featured lady bustling around with sumptuous combinations for food. And she was far from pleased. The head chef was at the dinner table with the Count and his guests, so she had to keep the food coming for the Counts hungry audience.
"By the Nine, how can people eat so much?" She moaned as she eased some boar meat into the oven. Her finger caught itself on the burning oven door and she dropped the meat on the floor, cursing aloud.
From around the door frame peeked a small dumpy maid, "Milena," she called to her.
Milena sucked her burnt finger and raised her head, "Yes, Julienne?"
"The Count's about to make a big speech. He wants everyone to be present. And he means everyone."
Milena looked at the meat on the floor, shrugged, and followed Julienne to the great hall.
As they turned the corner into the hall, they could see nearly a hundred people gathered to hear the Count. Although the Count wasn't famed for his speeches, when the Count of a town asks everyone to attend a speech, you knew it was not going to disappoint.
From the main door came an over-excited squeak of joy, "Mummy!"
Milena turned to her daughter as she came running in from outside.
"Have you had fun in the rain sweetheart?" she asked as she wiped her kitchen cloth over her soaking hair.
"It was great!" she exclaimed, "We went running around all the courtyard and acted like Sea Dreughs going "RAAAAAAAR!" at one another and this one boy said that I smelled reaaaaally badly so I pushed him into a puddle"
"Now Suzette, you shouldn't go around pushing boys into puddles" advised Milena as she continued to dry off her child.
"But he pinched me too! See!?" Suzette showed her mother her arm where several small red marks lay idly.
"Well THAT changes everything" exclaimed Milena who smiled and held her daughter's hand as the Count waited for everyone in the Castle to gather.
Most of Kvatch's townspeople were in the employ of Count Goldwine, leaving the Great Hall somewhat cramped and constricted for space. Yet these concerns fluttered away when the Count stood up from his chair and beckoned to the gathered crowd.
"Dear men and women of Kvatch, we live in grave times. The untimely passing of the Great Emperor, Uriel Septim, has affected us all; yet this is not to say that we are to simply sit and mourn in the dark. We have an obligation to celebrate the Emperor's life and not his murder. That is why we feast tonight, that is why I've ordered the arena to stay open until dawn breaks, and that is how we shall overcome this most saddening event. I am all indebted to you for coping against the void we face, and as such I insist that we all come together and celebrate the end of Last Seed together. Not as Count and servant, or Steward and maid; but as equal citizens of Kvatch. Blessings of Akatosh upon us all. Enjoy."
The audience erupted into applause and the Count sat himself back down. The dancers picked themselves up and continued their flowing movements. A nearby guard grabbed a flagon of ale and began to knock it back whilst trying his smoothest line on the Count's female Steward.
Milena watched as the horde of people embraced the hospitality of the Count's offer, and she knelt down to face Suzette.
"Okay missy, mummy's going to have to stay here and see what she can do to keep the Castle tidy. I want you to run back home with the Bosmer children and get yourself ready for bed when I come home, okay?"
Suzette nodded profusely and galloped back into the rainy streets outside whooping and cheering as she went.
Jesan slammed his flagon onto the table and cleared his throat, "I'll have you know I saw the Grey Prince fight in the Imperial City Arena, and he really wasn't that good. Very sloppy fighting stance."
Merandil scoffed and finished off his bottle of ale, "You never went to the Imperial City, Milena would've never let you leave."
Jesan put his flagon down a second time without having made it to his mouth, "This was before I was married. And besides, what's wrong with Kvatch?"
"Nothing at all" came a commanding voice from the doorway of the inn.
Captain Matius grinned from ear to ear, he loved having discussions about Kvatch.
"Ah Captain," said Jesan, "Glad you could make it here eventually. Where' Berich?"
Captain Matius pulled up a chair and sat beside the two conversing guards, "Oh he said he'd be here in a few minutes. He had to go over to the Castle to retrieve his gate key from the guards on patrol there. Let me tell you, Count Goldwine knows how to throw a party."
"It's not meant to be a party" Jesan sighed, "It's supposed to be a 'celebration of Uriel Septim's life'."
"Yeah a celebration involving dancers, ale and musicians. How appropriate for a man who went insane after being imprisoned in Oblivion" butted in Merandil.
"Merandil, there's no need for that sort of tongue" scorned Captain Matius
"Sorry Sir"
Captain Matius leaned on his chair and turned to Jesan, "How's Milena and little Suzie?"
"Well Milena seems to be doing alright down at the Castle, but we're having a hard time finding a nice place to raise Suzette," said Jesan, "and I was wondering about maybe transferring to Anvil in the coming season."
Captain Matius tilted his head and enquired, "What's wrong with Kvatch?"
"Yeah!" sparked Merandil
"Shut up you." muttered Jesan to Merandil, "Well you see sir, I do love Kvatch, like you I was born and live here, but I feel that somewhere closer to the coast would be a beautiful place to raise Suzie. She's already five, and I would ever so like to have her grow up by the sea before her childhood's all but gone."
Captain Matius winced and sighed reluctantly, "Jesan, you're a fine guardsman, and I respect your devotion to your wife and child. I'll let you know in the morning."
"Thank you for the opportunity sir" said Jesan.
"Well I'm going to the bar for a drink, keep an eye out for Berich would you?" asked Captain Matius.
"Sure thing" replied Jesan.
"Now..." began Merandil, unfolding his arms and reclining in his seat, "what's this business about mead?"
"Ah," remarked Jesan, "it's an odd tale of sorts, involving riches, deception, magic, and a crazy Khajit woman"
"Sounds like a hoot" said Merandil, pleased.
"Well, just about the time Suzie was born, that strange Dark Elf 'merchant' came to town. Do you remember, Merandil?"
" Oh yes, and he turned out to be a Morag Tong agent sent to kill the Count. That was the most action we've ever seen round these parts." replied Merandil.
"Anyway," continued Jesan, "while we were confiscating his effects I found a length of parchment written by a Khajit elder called "J'barri the Seer" that said she'd enchanted this Dark Elf with an ability to predict the future. And the price for such an enchantment was the highest figure of Septims I'd ever seen."
"How much?" asked Merandil.
"270,000"
Merandil's eyes widened and he steadied himself on the table. He went for a swig of his bottle, only to realise it was empty.
"And?" Merandil asked impatiently.
"As I read on it appeared to be that this enchantment was more like a curse. And whoever killed the Dark Elf would also receive his power, and the power would reveal itself using the same methods the Dark Elf used. And if you remember correctly, I was the one to put an arrow through his head."
"Are you trying to tell me," Merandil asked, "That if you drink enough mead you get to see into the future?"
Jesan took a gulp of his ale, "Pretty much, yeah."
Merandil scoffed again and this time leaned over to Jesan, "Now why would your wife want you to stop seeing into the future?"
Jesan also leaned in, "Well at first it was worrying that these visions might take over my life. But then when I started having them, they were so vague that I couldn't tell what they meant until the events actually happened. But recently, they've been so vivid...and dark. A great eye, burning and winding towards us. Casting fire and death in all directions. People's flesh melting away in searing pain."
Jesan went quiet suddenly. Merandil waved his hand in front of Jesan until he snapped back to reality.
"You okay Jesan?"
Jesan lifted his head and grinned as if he'd jut awoken from a blissful sleep, "What's the problem, Merandil?"
Merandil gave an uneasy face and backed away from Jesan, who had seriously sent shivers down his spine. Captain Matius returned from the bar and sat down.
"What were you two talking away about? Something interesting I take it?"
Jesan looked puzzled and thought about it for a moment, "To be honest Captain, I can't remember. Can you Merandil?"
Merandil stared vacantly into his empty bottle and muttered, "No, I can't say that I do."
Jesan stretched himself out and yawned loudly so that the whole inn could hear him, "Well I'm going to see if the little one's off to bed. Good night Captain, tell Berich I said hello. And goodnight Merandil, tell your brother he still owes me a flagon or two from our wager last week!"
Even after Jesan had left, Merandil sat with an expression of sheer worry across his face.
Captain Matius tapped him on the shoulder, "Whatever's the matter Merandil? Did Jesan tell you a ghost story or something? He does have some of the best stories, I always find."
Suzette skipped along the cobbled streets of Kvatch, trying to collect some of the rain water in her mouth. She loved the feeling of refreshing coastal rain on her tongue, especially during Last Seed. It was like some sort of magical season or something that made the rain taste better.
As she danced her merry way down to her house, something caught her eye.
From down an alleyway came a pulsating red glow. She leaned to get a better look but couldn't see around the corner.
"Hello?" She cried down the alley. Yet no reply came.
She looked about her and walked towards the mysterious light that began to intensify as she got closer to it.
As she turned to see the source of the light, she felt almost let down as it turned out to just be a wide alleyway with some sort of red hue to it.
"Aw," she moaned, "that's rubbish."
Then without warning, a huge arc of blackened flesh and crimson bone tore from beneath the ground and implanted itself across the width of the alley. The ashen material pulsated and writhed with demonic energy while the crimson claws that jutted out in a jagged fashion shivered and quivered in the rain.
Suzette watched as the red glow collected itself and projected across the arc forming a strong fiery portal that ebbed and shimmered as it reacted to the damp air. She stepped closer to it, reaching out with her fingers to touch the surface of the portal.
A monstrous, dirty, blackened claw shot out from the portal and clutched her throat. She felt herself being lifted from the floor, her throat seizing up her ability to speak as the talons crushed tighter into her voice box. She gasped and fell crumpled to the floor as her spine gave way inside her neck. The claw grabbed a hold of the portal and pulled itself through into the realm of man and beast, with no intent on leaving either alive.