THE COLDEST SLEEP

CHAPTER ONE

THE FIRST EDITION

A young Imperial walked briskly down the empty streets of Cyrodiil City. It was pouring rain from the grey sky overhead. She was keeping as close to the walls of the surrounding buildings as she could, desperate to stay dry under the awnings.

On the other side of the road, a boy was slumped against the stones, staring wistfully at the stacks of soaked papers by his feet. The young woman noticed him and stopped, worrying the skin of her lower lip between her teeth while she had a mental debate with herself.

"Sir!"

The Imperial began to run to the other side of the street, one hand on the strap of her shoulder-bag and the other raised above her head to catch the boy's attention. He looked up, glancing around. Surely she wasn't addressing him?

"I'll buy a paper." the young woman panted, pushing soaked strands of dark hair out of her eyes. "I'll buy a stack." She reached into her coat pocket and fished out a leather coinpurse. "Here you go, lad. I do believe that's forty-five septims, correct? Right. Thank you,"

The woman walked away with a bundle of soaked parchment held tightly to her chest. Its binding was beginning to tear, and the ink was smeared all over the pages. Finally, she reached a little shop with a wooden sign hanging above the door that read First Edition. She shifted the papers under her arm and wiped fog away from the window, then pulled back on the brass knocker and rapped thrice.

An old man with half-moon glasses and a white beard answered. He peered up at the young woman for a moment, before smiling and saying, "Ah, Melantha! Enter, enter, my dear."

Melantha brushed past the old man as she entered, placing the sopping papers on a table and shedding her bag and coat. She immediately set to work on boiling a pot of water for tea.

"I apologize for the mess. The shop has gotten a bit out of hand since Lysandra's passing."

Melantha took a seat in a horrid striped armchair and crossed her ankles on the matching ottoman. "Oh, I do miss her so." she said with a soft sigh. "Well, all wounds heal with time, eh?"

Both of the Imperial's gazes drifted to a portrait of a sweet looking young woman with ginger hair and a wide smile hanging on the mantlepiece. In the bottommost corner to the right, the words 'Gods bless her soul, our dearest Lysandra' were scrawled in an untidy hand.

"Let us not dwell on the past, then," Melantha said suddenly, hurrying to the fireplace. "How about a bit of tea?" The old man smiled and nodded. Melantha poured two cups and returned to her place.

"Did you ever finish that book of yours?"

Melantha's indigo eyes found her bag and her lips curved in a smile. "Not yet, but I'm close." she said. "Very close."

"That's great, dear, but I've just realized how late it's getting, and you're soaked down to the bone." the old man said. Melantha frowned. "Come, let me make you supper first."

"Oh, I'm already fat enough, my dear." he chortled, patting his protruding stomach. "Go on upstairs and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold."

Melantha trudged reluctantly up the rickety wooden stairs, one hand trailing on the dark wooden banister and the other holding her bag and coat. When she reached the top, the old man called after her, "There's an tub by the wardrobe if you want to run a bath!"

Sure enough, there was a bronze tub beside the dusty armoire in the old guest room. Melantha threw off her wet dress and boots for a nightgown before blowing out the dying candle flames and settling into the large bed pushed up against the wall.

Melantha wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but it seemed like seconds later when she was jolted awake.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer."

The twin moons were visible through the weathered pane glass windows, shining their pale light onto Melantha's slender figure tangled in the sheets. Her lids fluttered and her eyes opened. A few moments later, she registered what had woken her and bolted upright.

"That's good. You'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to propose."

A tall, cloaked figure emerged from the shadows. Melantha could see only his pale lips beneath the hood he wore, but his baritone voice rung loud and clear through the silence.

"I am Lucien Lachance, a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother.

"And so, I come to you with an offering. An opportunity... to join our rather unique family."

Melantha swallowed hard, clutching the sheets so tightly that she thought she might rip them. The man's - Lucien, he had said his name was - lips curved into a wicked smile. "So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely."

"On the Green Road to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete.

"Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family."

Melantha took a shaky breath. "I - I don't know what you're talking about." she said as firmly as she could. Lucien's smile only widened. "You killed that man on the road to Skingrad. I know. I was watching."

"I'm not proud of what I've done, and I wouldn't do it again." Melantha said after a moment. She hadn't meant to kill him, only injure him to take his money... she had been desperate and stupid. His stiff, frigid body lay in a ditch on the side of the road, with a sprig of Deathbell on his chest.

"Perhaps not, but for one who's never shed blood before, you have a certain... talent that the Brotherhood simply couldn't resist."

Lucien reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger. The ebony shone in the moonlight. "Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence."

With that, the man left and Melantha was left with the dagger as a painful reminder of her mistake.

Yes, I know that the First Edition isn't run by an old man. Shh.

Au revoir!