Master Caecus' meditations were disrupted by a knocking at his cell's door. Without moving, he called out into the darkness. "Come."

The door opened, letting light filter into his chamber. It was small and extremely sparse—the only furniture of note was a bedroll on one end and a basin on the other. The frigid air, unheated despite the midnight chill, clung to the hard stone walls and floor like a layer of ice. In the center of this, sitting cross-legged on the floor was Master Caecus. A voice from outside the room spoke hesitantly, one of a young woman. "Master," she said, "It is time for the reading."

Master Caecus slowly stood upright. He was clothed in a simple gray robe and his eyes were covered by a blindfold tied tightly over the upper portion of his face. He was an old man, perhaps fifty, but where the robe hung off his frame it was clear that he had the physique of a man half his age: he was in exceptionally good physical condition, and even the creases on his face seemed to stem more from intense concentration than senority. He turned around to face the young woman. "Then let us depart," he replied in his steady, commanding voice.

He strode out of his room with authority, the young woman falling in line right behind him. She was perhaps twenty and dressed in the same gray robe as her master. Her dark brown hair was cut short, and her green eyes never wavered from her master. Often, novitiates like herself would lead their blind and hobbling mentors down these corridors, but she never once had to. Master Caecus was exceptional in every definition of the word. Despite having his eyes hidden behind the blindfold, he moved with more purpose and grace than anyone else she had even seen. These halls, which were startling luxurious compared to the aesthetic cell where he had come from, posed no challenge to him. "Master," the girl began, her voice low and respectful, "Did I interrupt one of your visions?"

"Yes," replied Master Caecus, his voice firm yet nonjudgmental.

"I apologize," she said, "Was it the reoccurring one?"

"It is nothing to apologize for, and yes, it was."

Master Caecus had never elaborated on his reoccurring vision. He had always told her about his precognitions before, but this one in particular he had kept hidden. She never pried to determine what it was. If he saw fit to conceal it from her, it must have for the best: it would eventually be revealed to her, in due time. The two quieted for a moment before he spoke again. "Lucia, did you bring the copy of the Courier?"

Lucia nodded. "Of course, master." The only thing that Master Caecus could truly not do by himself was read. She had spent countless hours over the years reciting for him, from thick scientific treatises to ancient Dunmer poetry to the very newspaper she took out to look over and read for him. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

SPECIAL EDITION!
RECONSTRUCTION EFFORTS IN IMPERIAL CITY HALTED!

In a surprising announcement by High Chancellor Ocato, much of the reconstruction efforts to repair buildings damaged during the Oblivion Crisis and the subsequent traitor-general uprisings have been put on hold today until further notice.

"I know that the damage suffered by Cyrodiil in the past two years is vast," said Ocato, "And I know that many families have had their property harmed in the subsequent attacks. Thus, it is with great reluctance that I issue this command, however, it is one that is necessary for the wellbeing of the Empire."

Curiously, this command was issued alongside a less-publicized move to more than triple the funding of the Imperial Legion. Sources at the Imperial Palace claimed that it is intended to break the stalemate that has marked combat against rogue partisans in the provinces, yet curiously very little of the appropriations apply to construction of forts outside of Cyrodiil. No legionary officers have yet offered comments on this issue.

No senior officials in the Imperial Palace offered any further clarifications, although a spokesman of the Empire issued this own comment: "Despite the devastation still felt in the capital, it is important to remember that very little time has truely passed since the attack on the Imperial City. The capital shall be fully rebuilt before 4e 2, as is fitting the bright future that awaits our nation."

Lucia stopped reading. Her master reflected on it momentarily. "A 'bright future'," he noted, "The Courier has been stressing how secure the empire is as of late."

Lucia folded the paper and put it away. "You don't think their optimism is warranted?"

"No." Once again, there was no elaboration. Lucia did not ask for any.

They continued on their way. Silence was not unusual between the pair: Master Caecus had always insisted that one spoke only if they had something worth saying. However, Lucia clearly wasn't comfortable, frowning deeply and biting at her lip. She remained quiet as they walked through the halls, passing large, golden-gilded doors and armored royal guards. An intersection was coming up ahead, with one large stairwell leading upwards to the right, and the hall continuing straight ahead. At this point, Lucia knew that she had to speak. "Master," she said, her voice as respectful as it had been before, but now with a hint of urgency, "Aren't you nervous?"

Master Caecus stopped and turned to face Lucia. "No."

Lucia looked up at him. By virtue of his hidden eyes, his jaw line was his most expressive feature. It was as firm and unemotional as it always was. He really was as calm as though this were any normal day. "But, master…" she continued with a hushed voice, "This is your last reading, isn't it?"

"It is," replied her master, "But that is nothing to be nervous over. This is more about you and your own fear, isn't it Lucia?"

Lucia looked away, frowning. Master Caecus placed a strong hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Lucia, I want you to know this. Relationships between people are always changing. Every day we chose new actions for ourselves and make decisions that ripple out and touch all who we know. And also remember, there was once a time that I did not know you and you did not know me, but we did not long for what we did not have. This is my last reading, true. And after this, I will retire. Despite all that, there is a bond between us that will not dissolve simply due to geographical distance, is there not?"

Lucia returned her eyes to him. "Yes, master."

"Thus, we shall not fear what lies in the future. Besides, while I am at the brink of my final reading, you are about to undergo your first reading, correct? You shall soon be a priestess yourself. You no longer need me to guide you," Master Caecus concluded.

"But there's still so much I don't know!" Lucia interjected passionately, but before she could continue, her master spoke, the weight of his own words drowning out her own.

"Believe it or not, Lucia, I was once in your position myself. I excelled, as shall you."

With that, he offered her one of his rare smiles, breaking through the rigidity and gravity of his normally severe face. Lucia almost blushed at the compliment, and her heart swelled with pride. "I won't let you down, master."

"Very good," he said, turning towards the stairs. "I will go upstairs and retrieve the scrolls. I wish for you to go report to the high chancellor. Await my arrival there."

Lucia gave him a surprised frown. "Don't you need assistance?"

"I know the library better than any other room in the world," said Master Caecus, "And I would like to go there alone tonight… For old time's sake."

His pupil nodded. "Okay. I'll go on ahead."

The master turned and walked up the stairway. Lucia watched him vanish out of her sight. Soon, he would leave forever. She wished to express to him how much his tutelage and guidance meant to her but had no idea how to properly vocalize it: he was not an emotional man by any means. It was hard to believe that after all of his painstaking, exemplary work on behalf of the empire, he would be put out to pasture in some frozen, forgotten monastery. Master Caecus had always taught her that this fate was an honor, but it was one of the few of his lessons that never took to her.

She was dallying. Lucia continued down the hallway, trying to keep her mind off her master's imminent departure. She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. "Sweet Dibella, Lady of Love," she whispered, "Order my steps to match your perfect word."

She felt relief course over her. No matter how difficult things became for her, the Nine were always there, always at her side. She took great solace in their sacred presence: she could feel them around her, watching down and guiding her to live a life free of sin and bereft of temptation. They must've had a hand in her finding such a mentor as Master Caecus. "Mara, Mother Mild," she said again, her mouth barely able to contain a burgeoning smile, "Bless my heart to love those as you love all your children."

Solace and salvation. Even if Master Caecus were to leave, this cornerstone of her life never would. "Kynareth, Mistress of Breezes," she finished, cheeks warm from the pleasure, "Fill me with life to serve your holy purposes…!"

Lucia opened her eyes. She was nearly at the conference chamber. She took a moment to compose herself and regain a solemn air after the joy she had just experienced: she was Master Caecus' representative, and had to convey his presence as such. She stopped in front of the massive doors, took a deep breath in, and opened them wide.

There were only a few people in the room. There were, of course, several royal guards who looked her over warily, but didn't leave their posts. She couldn't help but notice Archprelate Claudius at one end. She was nervous to be in front of the leader of her order, but was determined to appear relaxed all the same. Master Caecus always acted in the same manner to everyone he met, be they emperor or beggar. She was determined to follow in his example and turned her attention to the other imposing man in the room, High Chancellor Ocato, who seemed relieved to see her. She straightened her posture. "Prelate Caecus shall arrive with the Elder Scrolls shortly," she said, in a voice so dispassionate that it would've made her master proud.

Her announcement caused some of Ocato's relief to vanish. "He's still not here? He should've been here a half-hour ago."

Lucia stepped to the side and put her hands behind her back, clearly not intending to speak any more. Ocato looked to Archprelate Claudius. "Perhaps we should call for another priest?"

"No," replied the high prelate, "Believe me, Chancellor, I have trained dozens of Moth Priests in my time. Of all of them I have worked with, Caecus is by far the most accurate and clear interpreter we've had."

A tinge of red threatened to blush on Lucia's cheeks. She fought it down. She loved to hear her master praised so, but needed to be above showing emotion. Ocato accepted the archprelate's answer, but wasn't finished with this line of inquiry. "This is Caecus' final reading, correct? You're sure that it will be accurate? This is a matter of extreme importance?"

The archprelate nodded to Ocato. "I know you fear the dark shadow from the east, but trust me that I feel that this reading will be Prelate Caecus' swan song."

Lucia remained calm, but couldn't help but feel curious. Master Caecus had insisted that she not pay attention to the phenomenally classified discussions she was privy to as a Moth Priest, but there was something about learning such fascinating secrets that she found alluring. The chancellor, for his part, accepted Archprelate Claudius' answer.

Minutes passed.

Lucia's mind began to turn. Master Caecus shouldn't be taking this long to deliver the scrolls. In fact, she couldn't remember him being late to anything at all. Her outward expression remained one of pure neutrality, but she couldn't help but become nervous. Had he become anxious over his final reading? Was he all right? Her concerns were also shared by Ocato, who was much more visible in his frustration. "Where is that Caecus?" he thought aloud.

The doors to the conference chamber flew open. A royal guard ran in, alert and startled. Everyone in the room noticed his arrival with a shock, Lucia included. He addressed the chancellor. "My lord, we've spotted something to the east, approaching rapidly."

Ocato scowled. "You saw 'something'? Come, man, be more descriptive!"

"Sire, we're not exactly sure what it is. What we do know is that it's large and that it's flying."

"Flying?" Ocato said in disbelief.

"Yes, flying. At this rate, it'll reach the Imperial Palace within minutes."

"Minutes…" Ocato whispered. Something clicked in this mind. "The Elder Scrolls," he said with a newfound urgency.

He burst from the room, moving quickly into the hallway, gesturing for some of the guards to follow him. Lucia, in all of this, was confused. Something flying? It made no sense. There was no time to think, though. She left the room, following Ocato. The high chancellor believed that there was something in the works involving the Elder Scrolls. Wherever he was going, Master Caecus would be there. Liquid fear began to course through Lucia's veins—what if this flying monster had come for the Elder Scrolls? What if Master Caecus were in danger? What was supposed to be a peaceful farewell to her master very well might turn into tragedy.

Ocato stormed through the halls as fast as he could. Lucia knew this path. It would lead them to the largest balcony on the Imperial Palace, one high above the city. Down the hallway, she could make out noises that she had never heard before. There was a clatter of some sort of metal, the hiss of steam and some sort of gargled scream. Ocato moved even faster at that, the royal guard in tow. Lucia doubled her pace to get as close to the doorway as she could. Ocato arrived first and threw the door at the end of the hallway open to the midnight sky. Lucia gasped.

At one end of the large, elaborate balcony was a construction that she had never seen the likes of: it was a large, bronze ship floating in mid air. Giant fan blades shredded the night's stillness, shooting out wind to keep the massive contraption afloat. The fires of Oblivion smoldered in its portholes, fueling the machine through unspeakable magics that Lucia didn't even want to fathom. It was sleekly polished, however, looking nothing like a rough Dwemer machine. Indeed, if anything, it seemed extremely modern, as though it were made in the last year. Its massive gangplank had smashed into the palace, allowing a thin bridge to and from the airship. This was all impossible, though—no one had been able to make a stable airship, let alone something as well-crafted and powerful as this. Before she could make out anything else about the machine, her eyes caught sight of something infinitely more important. Master Caecus.

He stood in the middle of the balcony, facing the airship. He was surrounded by fallen royal guards, unmoving at his feet. Tucked under his arm were five Elder Scrolls, their gold bindings glimmering in the infernal light given off by the airship. Ocato reacted first. "Caecus!" he screamed over the howl of the airship's fans, "What are you doing!"

Master Caecus slowly turned his head to face Ocato. His eyes were still bound behind his blindfold. "I ask you to say back, High Chancellor," he said, his voice calm and even, "There has been enough violence this evening, and I am loath to reengage any guards."

"Are you mad!" Ocato snapped, "Those are the Elder Scrolls! This is treason!"

Caecus did not respond. Lucia kept watching him. What was he thinking! How she wished she knew! If only she could see past his blindfold into his eyes, and peer into his soul! But that was impossible: all she could see was his expression, as rigid and dignified as it had ever been. It was infuriating for the very fact that it was so common of him—so full of belief, so full of purpose. Lucia tried to believe that this was all some horrible misunderstanding, but as she did, Master Caecus turned away from her. He walked forward, to the airship's gangplank.

The two guards at Ocato's side burst forward suddenly, not waiting for a command to charge. Both were fixated on recovering the Elder Scrolls at all costs. Master Caecus stopped walking and relaxed his muscles. Ocato was about to yell an order, but by the time he had opened his mouth, it was already over.

So swift it was that Ocato's eyes couldn't follow the action. Lucia, however, had trained under Master Caecus enough to be able to make sense of what happened. It was a single, graceful strike; almost beautiful if not for being so devastating. As soon as the guard got within striking range, Master Caecus turned swiftly. His leg shot out from his side, flying up into the air and then soaring down to hit his opponent in the underarm, one of the few places that lacked armor. Lucia recognized it instantly: the Willow Strike, a difficult technique used by practitioners of the Way of the Peaceful Fist. To use it so quickly was a feat in and of itself—to strike such a small target while blindfolded was simply unheard of.

The guardsman was thrown off his feet, colliding into his partner. The two collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs, giving their opponent the time he needed to casually turn around and continue on his way. Master Caecus stepped forward onto the gangplank, which was immediately drawn back into the airship. He stood at the railing and moved his head down, back in the direction Lucia was. She looked up, her mouth open and her body trembling. "Master Caecus…" she whispered, holding out her arm to the vessel. She found strength inside her and ran to the edge of the balcony. "Master Caecus!" she called out, reaching out for him.

His face was unmoving. He turned away from her and walked into the ship. The great airship slowly turned around, its huge, thundering blades bringing it to face the opposite direction of the tower. At that, it began to move. Fire spouted from it as it shot forward, moving swiftly through the night's sky. Lucia's arm trembled as she watched it move farther away and grow smaller and smaller. Ocato cursed. Master Caecus, Prelate of the Order of Ancestor Moths, had betrayed them, delivering unto the enemy five Elder Scrolls along with immeasurable amounts of state secrets. Lucia watched him vanish over the horizon as burning tears welled in her eyes.

Master Caecus had departed. He had gone to the east.

To Akavir.