AN : Yes, I am alive. And yes, I'm writing again. Huzzah!
After it all, Cyrodiil itself hadn't changed. The nobility were still only interested in their own petty problems, the beggars still flocked the streets, shouting praises to those kind enough to toss them a coin. The normal people didn't fully grasp what they had been saved from, and thought of it as just an interesting event in their lives.
It made her sick.
She had managed to glimpse the now missing "Champion of Cyrodiil" while the woman was visiting Leyawiin for reasons unknown to her, after the Oblivion crisis. The hero was heavily cloaked and darkly clothed, trying to avoid being seen. It was the middle of the night, and she had stopped to see why someone like the heroine was in a place like Leyawiin that late at night.
Watching the woman as she approached the small pond near one of the gates, thunder rippled overhead. The woman made no sign of noticing or caring the about the incoming storm, wind whipped her hood backwards, revealing her face.
The coldness of her expression made the young argonian take a step back in shock. She used to think that with all the fame and adoration that the Champion should be happy and content, but from that one moment, as a storm threatened to break in full force over Leyawiin, that image was shattered. From that one moment before the woman pulled her hood over her face, she was certain that the hailed vanquisher of daedra had nothing left to live for in this world, and knew it.
It had been roughly a year since then. Shortly after that day, the Hero of Kvatch went missing. Six months afterwards people stopped searching and caring. Why worry about one who had solved the problem and made sure there would be no more? Surely nothing else could happen to them all.
There were rumors, of course, that the Blades, without an emperor to work for and protect, were still searching for the closest thing they had left to a ruler now. Whether that was from duty, or from personal reasons, considering the hero was close friends with the new Grandmaster of the Blades, Baurus, was hard to determine.
Either way, the overall populace of Cyrodiil didn't care, and nothing happened to make them care. But she, the argonian who had watched the woman, and had possibly been the last to ever see her, always felt a small sense of disquiet about it all.
She had no idea that that disquiet and the paranoia that followed might one day help her save the country as history repeated itself.
This is just the prologue. Next chapter should be up soon.