Sidri blinked a few times, her gaze adjusting to the darkness of the tunnel. She took a cautious step forward, watching as the guards rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Whatever lay at the end of that tunnel was safety and safety meant escape. Surely no one would notice her missing in the time it would take for her to flee to the Waterfront, given all that had happened. Seemingly Uriel Septim himself was altogether uncaring of what she did.
She shook her head, running her tongue over her lower lip and continued down the tunnel. A few steps later, she turned the corner and stepped into a large room, seemingly unused for years. Cobwebs hung in thick ropes from the stone pillars and dust gathered between the stone tiles lining the floor. It was as silent as a tomb save for the clink of metal boots.
Crouching downwards slightly to make as little noise as possible, Sidri made her way through a crumbling archway, catching sight of the guards on the other side. It was too tight in here, the air too dry and the ceiling too low for her comfort. Fighting back claustrophobia, she began to move down a long hallway, keeping a close eye on the movements of the emperor and his Blades, for so he had called them, ahead. All was going well enough, the emperor ushered onwards while she anxiously followed from behind, when electricity crackled through the air and over her skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. Sidri instantly recognized it as magic.
A cry rang through the chamber and her eyes widened as a figure appeared before her, clad in crimson robes. Metal eyes stared at her from behind a mask unlike anything she'd ever seen, it's features sharp, feral and contorted, and she barely managed to avoid the blade that sliced through the air towards her a moment later. Leaping backwards, she saw more of the figures fighting the guards, catching a brief glimpse of the emperor keeping away from the fray from the corner of her eye. The sword arced down towards her once more and she sidestepped the swing, kicking out instinctively. Her boot caught the assassin's hip and he lost his weight, stumbling backwards. One of the Blades appeared beside her then, driving his blade through the figure's chest with a furious cry. The assassin let out a choked shriek of pain, the mask turning downwards as he looked to the steel piercing his torso. A moment later and he fell limply to the floor, blood as dark as his robes staining the ancient tiles surrounding him.
It had been quick, the skirmish, but all the same Sidri found herself shaking furiously. Gasping for breath, altogether aware of how close she had come to dying, she brushed her hair once more behind her ears and forced herself to remain calm. Her gaze traveled around the room slowly. Blood stained the pale floor, seeping from the wounds of both guards and assassins alike as they lay unmoving. One of the Blades sighed heavily, leaning downwards towards one of the slain guards. A woman, Sidri noticed.
"Captain Renault?" Uriel Septim asked softly, through from his tone of voice Sidri expected he knew what the answer to his unspoken question once.
"Dead," replied the guard, bitter anger tinting his words. He stood upright, glancing over his shoulder as he looked coldly towards her. "You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us."
She was silent at that, still working to catch her breath. Uriel Septim's calm gaze fell upon her once more and she looked towards him without thinking, his pale eyes looking into her own. Uneager to continue their connection, she looked downwards and carefully withdrew the slain captain's sword from her bloodstained hand. She had never been one for swords. Daggers were preferable, arrows ideal, but it would do until she could escape. This was a different sort of blade, curved and more regal than any she had armed herself with before, but it was comfortable all the same. Gripping her fingers tightly around the helt, she glanced up to the see the Emperor and his remaining guards continue onwards.
Once they were out of sight, Sidri began to creep forward once more, now desperate to find a route of escape and leave this nightmare behind. No one back at the Waterfront would believe her, she snorted darkly to her, glaring and stabbing a skeever as it snipped at her from the corner of the room, and in truth, looking back, she doubted she would believe it either. A crumbling hole appeared in the wall and after a moment's pause, she sighed and stepped through it, hoping it would lead to any sort of exit.
Creeping around for a few minutes, she managed to procur a few lockpicks and a bit of gold that had been scattered through the earthen room, shining faintly through the cobwebs and the dust. Unfortunately, it seemed a few skeevers were not altogether pleased to be sharing their home with her and Sidri killed them off as quickly as she could. They appeared from the shadows, just at the corner of her vision, and with each death came a quick sigh of relief. Their teeth and mouths and claws harbored all sorts of diseases, ones she had no desire to obtain through a bite or scratch.
She grinned broadly when she found a bow and several arrows, testing the bowstring carefully by pulling it back with two practiced fingers. It was aged but it worked well enough. Slinging it and the arrows over her back, she continued onwards in good spirits. Seemingly whatever luck had brought her thus far was favoring her once again.
However, the aged tunnels continued onwards for longer than she had expected and she found herself quickly growing anxious to find their end. Stolen blade at the ready, she kept herself on guard, flinching and preparing herself at whatever noise interrupted the otherwise deathly silence of the tunnels. After what seemed like hours, she saw a patch of light far ahead and all but sprinted towards it. Stepping out from the tunnel into the stone corridor once more, she breathed a great sigh of relief and took pause to glance down at herself. Her boots and trousers were stained with both blood and dirt, a patch of cobwebs stuck to her slender hip. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair and brushed herself off though it made no change.
Sidri fell silent once more as she heard the voices of the guards up ahead, speaking about protecting the Emperor. It sounded a bit like arguing as another voice picked up and she stepped forward carefully, watching them proceed further from the ledge above. She dropped down a moment later, feet hitting the floor with only a soft thud as she crouched down. Her eyes widened as she felt the crackle of magic in the air once more, a cry echoing through the ancient halls as more of the masked assassins appeared, their blades glittering in the pale light.
She caught sight of once running towards Uriel Septim, no doubt his target, and without thinking she rushed forward. With a snarl, she deflected the mage's blow only a few inches from the emperor's head, then parried another thrust and cut downwards sharply with the curved sword. It cut into the assassin's thigh and he howled with pain, allowing her to drive all of her weight behind yet another attack. The steel drove into his chest and through his back, dark blood spilling out over her hands and onto the floor as he fell backwards. Still in partial shock, her heart beating so furiously it seemed she could hear nothing but the rhythm pounding in her chest.
The emperor, his own blade drawn at this point, gave a small nod from beside her. She could see the curiosity flickering in his gaze. "Dammit!," growled a Blade and she drew in a small gasp as a stained blade was held beneath her throat, the lethal edge just a hair's breadth from drawing blood. "It's that prisoner!"
A guard stepped before her, his armor marked with soot and blood, and stared down the length of his sword at her. "It's that prisoner again." He glanced very swiftly over his shoulder to the remaining Blade.
"Kill her." The other said quickly, nodding. "She could be working with those assassins."
Her eyes widened further and she opened her mouth to protest, but Uriel Septim stepped forward almost casually. Placing a hand on the blade at her throat, he gently pushed it away to the guard's confusion. "No. No, she is not working with them. She can help us." He looked towards her now, a faint smile appearing in the corners of his mouth. "She must help us."
Sidri was silent at that, choosing to not to speak until the blade had been lowered a moment later, warily. Sighing with relief, she flinched as the emperor's weathered hand gently rested against her forearm, nudging her close as he addressed her and her alone. "They cannot understand why I trust you," He said softly, "They have not seen what I've seen." The guards cast a dark look towards her, then moved away, their swords still drawn. "How can I explain?" Uriel Septim paused with a sigh, "Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"
"I'm in prison," She replied bluntly, "I'm not exactly on good terms with the Nine, though I know of them."
If he was bothered by her reply, he made no mention of it. "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," The old man's voice took on a reflective, almost fond edge, "Each a fire and every one a sign. The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."
Sidri was once more startled by the peace with which he spoke of such. She had brushed shoulders with death more than once and each time had fought it with all her strength. No, she took no comfort in thinking of her inevitable fate nor content in peaceably going to it. "What about me?" She replied after a moment, still unsure of what all the aged emperor spoke of and how she seemed in fit into the puzzle that had been crafted by the Nine.
"Your stars are not mine." Uriel Septim replied gently. "Today your stars, what sign you were born under, shall prove a stalwart companion when fortune fades."
Today? "So…so you can see my fate?" She questioned, beginning to walk in stride with him now as the guards led the way.
He laughed softly at that, shaking his head. "My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face," His pale eyes searched her features once more, "I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."
She stared at him for a long moment, utterly silent. He must be crazy, she decided, a noble mind decaying from years of service to the Empire and the people of Cyrodiil. It was tragic, in a way, but she could mourn the loss of his sanity when she was free and back once more beneath the bright sunlight. "Where are we going?" Sidri decided that the safest way to respond.
"I am going to my grave," came his simple answer, "A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part." He turned then and continued walking down the corridor, his silver hair flickering as the torchlight fell over it.
"You might as well make yourself useful." A voice interrupted the brief silence and she found herself face to face with one of the Blades. He was younger than her, startlingly young, and the signs of youth were still present in his features. He held out another torch to her. "Carry this and stick close."
She grasped the torch, careful to keep it away from her messied hair, and followed silently. They turned down another tight hall and made their way into a wide room laced with cobwebs. "Hold up," The other guard raised a hand, taking a slow step forward. "I don't like this." Her free hand moved to the hilt of her borrowed blade once again, eyes scanning the dark corners of the room.
"Dammit!" Sidri flinched as the guard cursed loudly, his voice echoing off the cracked tile, "This door is locked!" And so it was. Up ahead she could see a grate covering yet another hall way, too thick to be cut away or pushed off by force, "The gate has been barred from the other side. It's a trap!"
"What about that side passage?" The other stated quickly, tilting his chin towards the opposite end of the corridor.
"Worth a try! Let's hurry!"
Sidri could hear the urgency in their voices now, what initial calmness had been present when first the emperor had appeared in her cell gone without a trace. She jogged to keep pace with them, torch all but dead.
"It's a dead end," The guard sighed heavily as he scanned the tiny space they found themselves in, "What's your call, sir?"
"Wait here with the Emperor," The other guard nodded to her suddenly, drawing his own blade as the other rushed away, "Guard him with your life."
She nodded quickly, more than aware of how trapped they currently were. These were true assassins, the masked men who had come to end the life of the Emperor, more than just some member of the Dark Brotherhood. She was a decent enough fighter, had held her own against more than most, but this…this was too much, even for the fury contained in her Nordic blood. Something cool was then pressed into her hand and she recoiled as she glanced down.
There, held to her palm by the aged fingers of Uriel Septim, was the bright amulet that had been around his neck only a moment earlier. It glittered pure crimson in the torchlight, the gold chain bright against the pale grey of the tunnel. "I can go no further," The emperor said softly, his gaze meeting her terrified own, "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his Mortal Servants." She tried to press the necklace back towards him but he refused, his hands gentle but firm against her own. "He must not have the Amulet of Kings."
He's going to die, Sidri realized then, recognizing the finality in his voice and casting off what doubts she had held about his words and the prophecies he spoke of, of the mysteries of the stars and the lines of fate that marked their steps. "Take this Amulet," Uriel Septim continued with a faint hint of a smile. Amera recognized it as peace. "Take it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son."
She opened her mouth to object, feeling the great weight of the amulet in her slender hand, but he silenced her with a small shake of his head. "Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." He smiled one last time at her and closed his eyes.
A moment later, part of the stone wall behind him moved away and one of the assassins stepped forward from the darkness, his blade arcing through the air as she screamed and threw herself forward. Uriel Septim let out a small sigh and slumped to the ground, a choked sob escaping her throat as she watched him fall off the bright steel that pierced through his back and through his chest.
"You picked the wrong day to take up the cause of the Septims, stranger." The assassin hissed at her, his sullied blade striking towards her. She was quicker, however, in her rage and in her terror, and the torch dropped from her hand on the floor as she parried back. With a snarl, she deflected another blow and cut into the assassin's chest, blindly stabbing until he was completely unmoving.
Unable to breathe, unable to think, Sidri moved over to the Emperor, desperate to find any signs of life. However, he was utterly still, his blood pooling from his chest onto the floor and mixing with that of the man who had slain him. And there, she raised a trembling hand before her face, gripped with white knuckles into her palm, remained the Amulet of Kings.
