Rating: Rated T for violence and some language.

Disclaimer: Oblivion is the property of Bethesda Game Studios.

This story has been edited from its original version.

The dungeons of the Imperial Prison were cold, dank, and dark. The only light came into my cell either through a small, barred window set high in the wall or from the flickering torches that spluttered feebly in the hall outside. No sound reached my ears except for the faint drip of water and the crackle of the torches, disturbing the stifling silence that cloaked the place. It was in that tiny cell that I spent my first night in Cyrodiil. I rested with my knees pulled into my chest and my head bowed forward. I'd been like that since they'd locked me in hours before. Sleep hadn't come. After all that I'd done, I'd started to think that maybe I didn't deserve any peace.

Time passed and my thirst finally overcame my stupor. I reached up to the table beside me, took the pitcher and cup that had been placed there, and poured myself some water. It was cool and soothing as it passed my parched lips. I allowed myself enough relief to feel that.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

I paused and lowered the cup. Was someone talking to me? I looked around for the source of the voice.

Whoever it was must have somehow gotten a glimpse of me, because the voice rasped again, "Ooh, aren't you a fair lass?"

I got shakily to my feet and padded toward the cell door, brushing my long, red hair back over my shoulder as I did. Once there, I caught a glimpse of my fellow prisoner from between the iron bars. He was Dunmeri, with dark gray-blue skin and long, matted silver hair. He leered at me, his long fingers curled around the bars of his cell door. I saw his red eyes flash in the torchlight.

"Your skin is so pale, so pure. Let me guess; a Nord, right?"

"Imperial," I corrected him in a low voice.

The fool cupped a hand to one of his pointed ears and shouted, "What did you say? Speak up."

I hurled the cup at the door. It clattered as it hit the bars and rolled away across the cell floor. "I'm an Imperial, you n'wah!"

I don't think he knew what to make of that at first. His angled brows rose in surprise at my outburst. Maybe it was the Dunmeri curse that threw him off. He quickly shook it off with a grin and cackled, "An Imperial in an Imperial prison. I guess they don't play favorites, huh? Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash. How sad. I bet the guards give you special treatment before the end. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here, Imperial. You're going to die! Imperial criminal scum like you give the Empire a bad name, you see. You're an embarrassment. Best if you just… disappeared."

I turned away from him with a low snarl. I didn't want to throw anything else, not that there was much else in there to actually throw. And what good what that do? I silently prayed to the Divines that I'd have the strength to outlast this torment. It was bad enough prospect that I was going to spend the rest of my life locked away down there. Now I would have to deal with that fool for what was left of it. I slid into the corner furthest away from the door. He wouldn't be able to see me there. I thought that maybe he'd eventually get tired of taunting me if he couldn't see my reaction. I'd rather have wasted away in silence than listened to another word from his damned mouth.

After a while I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward us. The Dunmer said something else, but I ignored him that time. It was probably something about the guards coming to get me. By then, I'd have been grateful if they had. But he was wrong, and I wasn't so lucky.

"Baurus, lock that door behind us." It was a woman speaking. She certainly sounded like a guard. I thought for a few moments that the son-of-a-guar had been right, but then someone else spoke. His words were faint, but clear, and he had an unmistakably commanding tone.

"My sons… they're dead, aren't they?" He asked.

With what I'vebeen through, I've learned to heed first impressions. It's saved me from getting my throat slit on more than one occasion. So I tried to place this man before I even saw him. He wasn't a guard, no. And what prisoner sounded like that?

"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked."

"No, they're dead. I know it." He sounded weary and resigned. I got to my feet again, curiosity beginning to get the better of me, in time to see four shadows sliding across the floor outside my cell.

"My job right now is to get you to safety," the woman said as she and the others came into view. Three of them wore armor, blocking my view of the last man. She stopped cold when she looked into my cell. "What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits."

One of her armored companions, obviously flustered, said hastily, "Usual mix-up with the watch. I–"

"Never mind," she snapped. "Get that gate open." She looked past the bars at me and her eyes flashed angrily. "Stand back, prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

I slid into the shadows and stayed against the back wall as they the door. I watched, silent but wary, as they filtered into the cell. The first strode across the room to where I stood, planted himself in front of me so that I couldn't pass, and ordered me to stay put. The woman went next, leading an elderly man in purple robes. They were velvet, by the look of them, and ridiculously expensive for wandering around in a dungeon. She was saying to him in a hurried voice, "Let's go. We're not out of this yet."

The old man stopped, despite the woman's protesting, to peer at me through the gloom. There was interest, recognition even, in his blue eyes. Beneath the weariness I saw in them, they were like ice.

"You," he said. "I've seen you. Let me see your face."

I knew what he was seeing when he looked at me: tangled red hair, gray eyes, and a pale face that was all sharp angles or hard edges. Still, a strange sort of tingle crawled up my spine. It was the kind of feeling you get when you know something's about to happen. Like when your hair stands on end just before lightning strikes. Against my better judgment, I stepped out of the shadows.

"You are the one from my dreams…" He looked away, weary acceptance settling onto his face. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

"What's going on?" I asked. Not necessarily to him, but to anyone. Somehow I was not just a witness to the whole mess, but a part of it.

He answered me at once. "Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next. 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." I didn't know why he trusted me. He shouldn't have trusted me. But he knew something, I'm sure of it. Or he'd seen something.

I stared at him. "Who are you?"

I heard an angry hiss from one of the three guards. The Blades. He ignored them.

"I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you too shall serve her in your own way."

It was then I knew I was in over my head.

I made some kind of odd spasm which might have been an attempt at a bow as I tried to figure it all out. When I finally found my voice, I asked him, "Why am in here?"

"Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet." His voice was light, dismissive. "As for what you have done… it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

It was all far, far too much for me. Look, I'm from a town whose population mostly comprised of the legionnaires stationed in the fort. I've been to cities, too. I lived in Morrowind's capitol for years! But I wasn't someone who'd lived on a grand scale. So when the Emperor of all Tamriel started talking to me about the fate of the Empire…

"What should I do?"

"You will find your own path. Take care… there will be blood and death before the end."

Well, that was not something I wanted to hear.

"Please, Sire. We must keep moving," the woman said desperately. She pushed something on the cell's far wall and a panel slid away with a flurry of dust and a low grinding sound.

"Better not close this one," she called back as she walked through the doorway. "There's no way to open it from the other side."

The others, including the Emperor, followed her into the tunnel. The last Blade through, a Redguard, chuckled lightly and told me, "Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way."

After that, I found myself in a predicament. I could have stayed and listened to that Dunmeri s'wit blather some more. I should have stayed; it would have been easier, though what fool would stay in that cell? With the thought of freedom in mind, I followed them.

Their path wound down through a short tunnel and into a maze of dark, catacomb-like rooms. I stayed a few paces behind. While they noticed me and didn't seem to care too much, I didn't really want to test them.

When they rounded the next corner, I saw them suddenly draw their swords. The leader shouted at me, "Protect the Emperor!" How she expected me to do that, when I clearly had no weapons, is still beyond me. The Emperor, on the other hand, had drawn a silvered sword. He stood behind a pillar, out of sight of the threat. He looked at me with weary eyes.

"Protect yourself," he said.

I watched with him from behind the pillar as the Blades fought a gang of men garbed in black and red armor. The captain fell during the skirmish, her body crumpling with onto a short set of stairs with the loud crash of armor. When the assassins were dead, the Emperor and I crept out from behind the pillar.

"Are you all right, Sire?" One of the Blades asked, rushing past me. "We're clear for now."

While they were preoccupied, I examined the attackers' bodies. It was strange… hadn't they been wearing armor before? All of them were now wearing identical, hooded red robes.

"Captain Renault?"

"She's dead. I'm sorry, Sire, but we have to keep moving."

"How could they be waiting for us here?" The other Blade snapped to no one in particular. He was getting edgier by the minute, his hand clamped firmly around the hilt of his sword.

"Don't know. But it's too late to go back now. Don't worry, Sire, we will get you out of here."

"They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades." The second Blade turned and opened the gate ahead. "I'll take point. Let's move."

The Emperor followed him, closely tailed by the remaining Blade. He turned to me and said firmly, "You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us." The gate was then locked behind him.

I didn't even have time to consider what to do, because a bit of loose wall came crumbling down and several skeevers leapt out at me. I scrambled back and grabbed Renault's sword. It's not like she needed it anymore. I slashed at the massive, filthy, rat-like things and only managed to get a few scrapes in the process. Once they were all dead, I looked with interest at the hole they had come through. A tunnel lay behind it. A tunnel might have meant a way out. I didn't even hesitate as I ran through.

I wound up in a twisting maze of damp tunnels filled with skeevers and goblins. Thank the Nine, I'd found a bow someone had lost soon after I'd stumbled in there. I was decent with a blade, but if you gave me a bow no one would even stand a chance. I also got my hands on the better part of a set of old leather armor. It was probably made for a man originally, but it fit me well enough for my purposes. The hood, which was a plus, made me wonder if it had belonged to a ranger originally. I thought it would be the perfect disguise if I ever managed to make it out of there.

Stay behind, they'd said. I wasn't going back if they paid me. I was already making plans for where I would go. My first thought was to get out of the province. Skyrim was my first pick. I was born there, although I barely remembered it, and everyone thought I was a Nord anyway. I hated the cold, though.

The tunnels finally gave out and I came out in those catacombs again. Hearing voices ahead, I crept along and stayed close to the wall. Soon I came to a ledge. Below I could see the Emperor and the two remaining Blades.

"What makes you think help will get here before more of those bastards, Glenroy?" I heard one Blade ask the other in an irritated voice. "We need to get the Emperor out of here."

The Emperor stopped. Leaning slightly against the wall for support, he asked the Blade who had spoken, "Baurus, have you seen the prisoner?"

The Blade, Baurus, turned his attention to him. "Do you think she followed us? How could she?"

"I know she did."

The two Blades shared a look before Glenroy stepped forward and said, "Please, sire. We can't stay here. We have to go."

"Not yet." The Emperor waved him off. "Let me rest a moment longer."

They didn't seem like they were going to move out of my way anytime soon. I climbed down from my perch on the ledge. Maybe I could get past them? That hope was quickly dashed when the Emperor, as if sensing my presence, looked right at me and nodded. I swallowed hard.

"Here they come again!"

I spun wildly to see more assassins leap out of a side passage. I slashed at one that managed to sprint past Baurus and Glenroy's defenses. He fell before he could take another step towards the Emperor.

Glenroy finally noticed me. "Damn it, it's that prisoner again! Kill her; she might be working with the assassins." I backed away and he advanced, bloodstained sword raised to strike me down.

"No, she is not one of them. She can help us. She must help us."

"As you wish, Sire," Glenroy said bitterly after a moment of hesitation. He sheathed his sword and gave me a withering glare.

I barely had time to shoot a glare back before the Emperor beckoned to me, saying, "Come closer. I'd prefer not to have to shout."

He took me aside and told me in a hoarse whisper, "I need your help. Please come with us."

"Your protectors don't seem to want me around."

"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain?" He asked, shaking his head. I certainly didn't know. "Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

I knew. Ma was devoted to them, and so I was devoted to them, for better or worse. It wasn't my place to question them.

"The Nine guide and protect us," I murmured.

He nodded slowly. "I've served the Nine all 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?"

I was born in the dead of winter, in the month of Morning Star. "I was born under the sign of the Ritual." The Mage's Eye, we called it. Ma thought it meant I would follow her path and be a healer. Da never wanted me to be a mage. That was for the best, though. I never liked magic much either.

"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

"What about me?"

"Your stars are not mine. Today the Ritual shall speed you on your star-patterned path."

In a hushed voice, and almost afraid to say it, I asked him, "Aren't you afraid to die?"

Death. Death was something I was terrified of.

He sighed. "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."

"Can you see my fate?"

"My dreams grant me no opinion of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death." His voice was grim, though he regarded me with some curiosity. "But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

What he was asking of me was dangerous. Impossible. But, see, I have two rules in life: never oppose the Nine, and never oppose the Empire. Da always said the Emperor is the Empire. His sons were dead, which made him the last member of the Septim line. Habasi always said, in her special Khajiiti way, that everything I did smelled too much of legionnaire loyalty. Devoted to a fault. I blame Da for that. He was in the Legion.

I took a deep breath and nodded before asking, "So, where are we going?"

"I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part."

He turned and continued on. I tried to follow, but was quickly stopped by Baurus, who held out his lit torch to me.

"You may as well make yourself useful. Here, carry this torch and stick close."

I pushed it away. "If you want me to be useful, that won't help. I'll stick to the shadows, thanks."

The Redguard blinked before letting out a soft laugh and nodding his helmeted head. "Fine. Just let us do our jobs and you'll be all right."

We went on, through more of those winding, eerie passages lined with old white marble. More assassins attacked, but again we prevailed. I soon started to get tired of it. Then, for a few minutes, it was quiet.

"I don't like this," Glenroy said. "Let me take a look."

He scouted ahead while the three of us hung back, waiting.

"Looks clear."

As we pushed on, he mentioned something about the sewers. I wasn't really paying attention to him; I was too busy watching for more assassins. He led us to a gate. For an instant, he froze. Once he seemed to regain focus, he drew his sword.

"Damn it! The gate is barred from the other side. A trap!"

Baurus and I both readied our weapons.

"What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try. Let's go!"

I hurried in past them and my heart sunk as I looked around. It was a dead end. We were trapped.

"What's your call?" Baurus asked, quickly noticing what I had.

"I don't know. I don't see any good options here," Glenroy said. From the hall we'd just left, I heard the sound of approaching footfalls. He turned at the noise. "They're behind us! Wait here, sire."

Baurus told me before he rushed from the room after Glenroy, "Wait here with the Emperor. Guard him with your life."

Outside I could hear the loud sound of metal clashing against metal. Then a cry of pain. Glenroy's? I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned, heart racing with fear.

"I can go no further." The Emperor's voice was rushed and desperate. "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" He unclasped the blood-red pendant that hung around his neck and held it out to me. "Take the Amulet."

I couldn't. It wasn't right.

"No, you can't trust me with this! You don't know what I've done!" I cried.

He forced it into my hands, saying, "There is no time. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son."

"Sire, you can't–"

"Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

A doorway materialized behind the Emperor. Before I could move, before I could shout a warning, an assassin had sprung from the shadows and cut him down. Then he turned on me, his eyes fixed on the Amulet. I heard a low chuckle emanate from behind his mask.

"Stranger, you chose a bad day to take up with the cause of the Septims," he said before he sent his mace crashing towards me.