Chapter 2: Innocence Lost


Windhelm feels like a large prison cell with its tall, oppressive stonework walls and buildings. The sky overhead is full of grey clouds, thick with snow and blotting out the endless heavens that exist beyond. The wind sends tiny flurries of snow whirling and dancing through the streets, and despite Lumen's desire to leave this dismal city as soon as possible, she considers going back to the inn and curling up under a pile of furs. But she can't. She is looking for someone, and as soon as she finds him she can leave this wretched place behind her.

Weeks ago she heard a rumor of a child who is attempting to contact the Dark Brotherhood. It is unknown to her if Aventus Aretino had managed to capture the Dark Brotherhood's attention, but he certainly had hers.

Hiding in the shadow of a crumbling stone wall, Lumen watches a Dunmer woman usher a curious, young boy away from the Aretino residence. She remains perfectly still and silent as they leave, lingering in her hiding spot for a while longer as a pair of guards pass by. As she waits her mind begins to wander back to the strange jester she met on the road, and most notably – the strange voice she heard. Despite many nights of replaying the moment in her mind, Lumen is unable to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the strange experience. Most troubling of all is not that a mysterious voice spoke inside Lumen's mind, but it was the fact that she so dearly missed that voice. She longed to experience it again; the sound, the sensation, the warmth. Never had she felt so comforted and so calm, like she had finally come home after a long journey.

Lumen shoves the distracting thoughts from her mind; she will have plenty of time to think about the jester and the voice after she investigates the Aretino home.

Once the street is clear she steps out of the shadows and toward the front door of the house, which is unlocked. The rusty hinges groan as she opens the door just enough to slip inside. She gently pushes the door shut and the snap of the latch is almost thunderous in the relative silence of the run-down house. But as Lumen climbs the stairs, it is clear the house is not as quiet or as empty as she initially thought. Her pointed ears twitch when she hears it – a child's voice – tinged with desperation and accompanied by a steady thumping sound, as if someone were striking a plank of wood with something hard and metallic.

"Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear."

Lumen inches across the aged, wood floor and close to the voice. She wonders if this how one calls the Dark Brotherhood. How on Nirn could they possibly know? Was there someone who was actually able to hear this prayer or did they operate on rumors alone? She has only heard tales of the infamous group of assassins, but she knows very little about them and how they operate.

A flicker of candlelight draws Lumen's eyes toward a small alcove and despite the rumors she has heard, the sight before her still comes as a surprise; a small boy, no older than ten, hunched over a skeleton and encircled by candles. Crumpled nightshade petals are scattered across the floor, barely masking the scent of decay coming from the human heart and flesh. The child is stabbing the effigy with a dagger – the tip of the dagger boring deeper into the wood beneath the skeleton which each strike.

"Please," he sniffs, "How long must I do this? I keep praying Night Mother. Why– why won't you answer me?" He pleads in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

Lumen stands from her crouched position, purposely stepping on a squeaky floorboard and clearing her throat to get his attention.

The child looks up at her and a wide smile spreads across his dirty face. "Finally! My prayers have been answered!" He gets to his feet, tossing the dagger aside as he stumbles toward Lumen. "It worked! I was starting to think I was doing the Black Sacrament wrong. But it worked and you're finally here!" He takes a deep breath, exhaustion and hunger quelling his childlike enthusiasm and leaving him breathless. "I can't believe it! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!"

Oh. This is not the reaction Lumen expects from Aventus. In fact, she didn't know what she expected when she crept into his home. Nor did she know what possessed her to grab his attention in the first place. She came here for no other reason than to sate her curiosity and leave. But now–

She cannot move – she is stuck – trapped by the child's hopeful gaze and compelled to stay. She knows she should tell him the truth; that she is not a member of the Dark Brotherhood, just a nosy elf. But she cannot. She must know who the child wants killed and why. "Uh, Right. So, who do I kill?" she asks, and internally curses at herself for sounding so uncertain.

Aventus doesn't notice her question. "It took so long. So very long…" he sways and Lumen leads him to the small bed in the corner of the room, motioning for him to sit down.

"Come on, kid. Just tell me who needs to die," Lumen keeps her voice level, but she is all too aware of the prickle of frustration that washes over her. She does not understand how to talk to children, who all seemingly have the attention span of a torchbug, but a child who is half-starved and exhausted is a new challenge for her limited patience.

"My mother died and I– I'm all alone now," he wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his filthy, threadbare shirt. "So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind, but she's not kind. She's terrible and I want her dead. I want you to kill her." Aventus gazes up at Lumen and she realizes how weary he looks. The layer of dirt on his face does little to hide the black circles under his eyes and only amplifies the hollow of his sunk-in cheeks.

"I have a few questions," she says and Aventus sits quietly, waiting for her to continue. "When did you begin the Black Sacrament?"

"Weeks ago I– I think. To be honest I stopped counting the days after a while."

"Am I the first person to contact you?" she asks, and the boy nods. Lumen wonders if the Black Sacrament works at all. Surely someone from the Brotherhood would have been here by now if it did. Perhaps they wouldn't take a contract from a child? She doubts the boy has anything of value to give, but surely an assassin could appreciate his tenacity – she did, anyway.

"That's a long time to wait. Why didn't you kill Grelod yourself?" Lumen asks, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Aventus glances away. "Because I'm– I'm afraid of her."

"Tell me why."

Aventus wraps his arms around himself, a far-off look in his eyes. "She beats us. She bloodied Hroar's face real bad once. And she– she locked Runa in– in the room. The room with the shackles. And–"

"And?"

"We get lashings if we talk about our parents." The boy lifts his shirt, turning his back to Lumen, and before she can ask him what he is doing her gaze falls upon the bare skin of his back, which is marred by crisscrossing welts, some of which are showing the first signs of infection. "I– I couldn't help it. I just miss my mother so much," His tired voice trails off into a sob.

Empathy has never been one of Lumen's strong points, and even now she doesn't feel a twinge of pity for the child. But she can certainly understand the gravity of the child's loss and rage. A rage that fueled his overtired and underfed body to continue with the Black Sacrament until an assassin or death itself came for him. It does not take long for Lumen to reach a decision – she will kill Grelod for the child. It was clear that the Dark Brotherhood had no interest in this contract or they did not know about it, or as some believe, they no longer exist. There is little she can offer the boy to ease his pain, there is no sympathy in her heart and no desire to dry his tears. But she can give him the death that he calls for.

Lumen pulls the last of her rations from her pack; a few strips of dried meat and a half-eaten loaf of bread. She places the food in the boy's hands and almost smiles at his bewildered expression. "Eat," she demands, "when I return with news of Grelod's death, I want you to be alive."


The Riften market is bustling with people; merchants peddling their wares or haggling with prospective customers, and cautious mothers hanging on to their children so they don't get lost within the crowd. There are displays of baubles, armor, weapons and there's even a man selling suspicious looking elixirs claiming they will grant the buyer "The stamina of a dragon!" Lumen is momentarily overwhelmed by the colors, the noise, and the smells of the market. She loves Riften. The city is so alive compared to Windhelm and she almost forgets why she is there – that is, until she pushes her way through the crowded market and Honorhall finally comes into view.

As distracting and lively as the market is, it's not nearly as distracting as the nervous fluttering in her abdomen. It is terribly frustrating. Lumen is never nervous before a kill. But this is a new experience for her; she has never killed at the behest of someone else before, and while she would prefer to take her time with Grelod, she reminds herself that this will have to be a quick, clean kill. She will have to be subtle and not allow the thrill to get in the way, as it so often did.

Lumen takes a deep breath, clearing her mind of all her anxious thoughts, and as she exits the market circle she begins to plan her attack. She will walk in and ask Grelod about adopting a child; surely they will have to go somewhere private to discuss such a thing. Once they are alone, Lumen will end Grelod's miserable life. This will be easy, or so she thinks, but as she opens the door to Honorhall she is greeted by a nervous-looking Imperial woman... Who promptly throws her out.

"Get out of here!" She hisses under her breath, "Grelod doesn't like visitors."

"But I wanted–"

"None of the children are available for adoption."

"But–"

The door to the orphanage slams shut before Lumen can finish, leaving her completely perplexed. Why would the old woman not allow the kids to the adopted? It was obvious that Grelod disliked and mistreated the children in her care. So why would she want to keep them around? It didn't make any sense. Unless–

Unless Lumen was turned away because she is an elf. Damn. This is certainly an unexpected complication.

Annoyed and confused, Lumen turns away from the orphanage and makes her way through the market circle once again. The previously distracting market blurs around her, a swirl of colors and indistinct noise not worthy of attention now that her mind is focused on a new plan. Lumen skirts around a pair of arguing merchants and just barely avoids running into a very ruffled-looking noblewoman, before she finally manages to break away from the crush of people and escape into the relative calm of The Bee and Barb. Once inside, Lumen strides toward the bar and slides onto a stool. She needs to think and to do that she needs–

"Mead, please," she says, resting her elbows on the bar and trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt.

The Argonian innkeeper sets the mead down in front of her with a smile. Well– Lumen thinks it's a smile. Argonian and Khajiit facial expressions are always difficult for her to read. "Anything else?" the inkeeper asks.

"No– Wait! Yes..." Lumen quiets her stammering by taking a drink of mead, wincing as the alcohol burns its way down her throat, "I was wondering– have you noticed anything strange about the orphanage?"

"Strange?" she asks with a laugh, "it is an orphanage like any other."

"Do any of the children ever get adopted?"

The Argonian tilts her head. "I don't know. Sorry, it's not something I ever paid much attention to. Why? You lookin' to adopt?"

"I'm just curious. That's all," Lumen says as she looks away from the Argonian's curious stare.

There is movement on her right and Lumen quickly turns her head to find herself face-to-face with a pretty Nord woman. She moved too quickly and silently for Lumen's comfort, and she leans away from the woman with her hand placed protectively on the coin purse hanging at her hip. To Lumen's surprise, the woman laughs at her.

"I'm not going to rob you in the middle of a pub, elf," the woman grins at her and nods at the innkeeper, "mead, Keerava."

Keerava places a fresh tankard of mead on the counter. "Ah, Sapphire. I was wondering when you'd stop loitering by the door and actually purchase something," she punctuates her remark by quickly snatching the gold from Sapphire's hand, as if it would vanish if she dallied.

"I was busy," Sapphire says flippantly and turns back to Lumen. "You got a name, elf?"

"My name is Lumen," she says, not bothering her mask her annoyance at being called 'elf'.

"Huh, weird. So– I heard you asking Keerava about the orphanage?"

"I was," Lumen answers slowly.

"I wouldn't bother trying to adopt a kid from there," Sapphire pauses to take a drink from her tankard, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards. "I once saw Grelod turn away a Dunmer couple – the Llaniths. I don't think Grelod likes elves."

A handsome Imperial man approaches the bar and leans on the counter to Lumen's left. "That's an interesting theory – but you're way off, Saffy," He rests his chin on his hand, grinning smugly at Sapphire.

"I hate it when you call me that," comes Sapphire's clipped reply, "and I don't recall asking for your opinion anyway."

Undeterred, the man continues, "I hear Grelod won't do adoptions at all," he pauses, glancing at the three women as if to confirm that he has their attention. "I hear she's selling the kids."

"Oh for Mara's sake! What a load of hogwash, Marcurio!" Keerava slaps the counter and shoots a glare at the mage.

"I'm serious!"

"That's not a bad idea, what's wrong with trying to recoup the cost of taking care of the kids?" asks Sapphire.

The easy smile vanishes from Marcurio's face. "She's not selling them to families. She's selling them for cheap labor."

Keerava sighs. "Marcurio, I'll not have to spreading such ridiculous rumors in my inn."

"But I heard it in your inn."

Lumen pushes away from the suddenly crowded bar, leaving the three gossips to their conversation – a conversation that has given her much to think about. With her mead in hand, she crosses the sparsely populated inn and seats herself at an empty table. She knows rumors spread through Skyrim like wildfire and that the vast majority were to be taken with a grain of salt, but–

Rumors lead her to Aventus.


The sun dips below the horizon and night washes over Riften. Another brilliant sunset is soon replaced by a sea of glittering stars as the crescent moons begin their journey across the heavens. Lumen walks along the wooden paths toward Honorhall, careful to tread softly across the creaking planks and crouching in the shadows to avoid detection. Approaching the orphanage unnoticed is not as easy at night as it is during the day. There is no bustling market to divert the attention of the guards or random passersby, and a lone figure creeping up on the orphanage in the middle of the night is certain to attract unwanted attention.

A guard walks by where Lumen is hiding, unaware that he is being watched as he makes his nightly rounds. When he is finally at an acceptable distance she darts toward the orphanage and raps on the door. By her count, she has exactly two minutes before another guard patrol passes by and she hopes she will have plenty of time to persuade her way inside. The last thing she needs is to be questioned by a guard.

The door opens and the fidgety Imperial woman who answered it before stands in the doorway. "What do you want?" she hisses, scowling at Lumen.

"I want to make a purchase, now let me in," Lumen says with more confidence than she feels.

The woman glowers at Lumen before finally stepping aside. "I'll get Grelod," she mutters as she walks out of the foyer, throwing a glare over her shoulder at Lumen before she disappears around a corner.

Lumen frowns as well, not at the Imperial woman, but at the horrible smell. The scent of urine and spoiled food mingle in the too-thick air and assault Lumen's sensitive nose. As much as she would like to draw out Grelod's death, the horrid stench of this place provides a sense of urgency Lumen had not felt previously. She wants nothing more than to kill Grelod and leave before the pungent reek of what she can only describe as despair seeps into her leather armor.

Grelod enters the room with her head held high and a permanent scowl etched upon her face, the scowl deepens as she looks Lumen up-and-down. "Don't normally sell to your kind," she says with thinly veiled contempt, "but I s'pose elf money is as good as any."

"Oh, good. I was starting to fear a Septim lost its value once it touched my filthy, elven hands," Lumen says, her voice laced with sarcasm.

The old woman narrows her eyes at Lumen. "Don't get smart with me, elf. Or I'll box your pointy ears."

Lumen hums her acknowledgement of Grelod's threat, but makes no attempt to even pretend as if she is afraid of the old woman. "So who was the woman who answered the door? She seemed quite upset."

"That would be Constance. She doesn't approve of how I treat the brats or how I get rid of 'em."

"A pity. Good help is so hard to find these days," Lumen says, looking Grelod over. She almost feels guilty. Killing a feeble, old woman will be too easy.

"Enough!" Grelod snaps. "Who sent you?"

"We have a mutual acquaintance," Lumen tells her.

"I don't have time for games, elf. Give me a name or get out."

The corners of Lumen's mouth twitch upward, "Aventus Aretino."

Grelod scoffs. "I had hoped the little bastard died of exposure after he ran away," she turns from Lumen to straighten a stack of books on a nearby table. "So what do you want? I don't have all night."

"This really isn't about what I want," Lumen replies casually, stepping closer to Grelod.

"Then what–" before Grelod can finish, Lumen grabs her by her shoulders and spins her around, slamming her back against the wall. Lumen's hands move; one clamping around the old woman's throat and the other pressed over her mouth to keep her quiet.

"I've been hired by Aventus Aretino to kill you," Lumen smiles cruelly at Grelod as the old woman's eyes widen in shock and she begins to struggle, but she is immediately subdued as Lumen tightens her grip around her neck. "Surprised? You shouldn't be. Not after what you did to that boy."

Lumen yanks Grelod away from the wall and moves behind her as she draws her dagger. She presses herself against Grelod's back, her hand clasped tightly over the old woman's mouth as she presses her dagger against Grelod's throat. "This will be messy," she whispers in Grelod's ear. "Good thing you won't have to clean it up," Lumen doesn't give the old woman a chance to respond or fight back, and she quickly drags the razor-sharp blade across Grelod's throat. The thin, aged flesh splits apart with little resistance and blood pours from the wound, splattering on the floor and filling the room with a metallic odor.

The heavy scent of blood and the alluring sight of it sends Lumen's heart racing, her arms shake with exhaustion and excitement as she lowers Grelod's limp body to her knees before letting go. The old woman falls forward into a rapidly expanding pool of blood while Lumen hastily cleans her dagger with the hem of Grelod's dress. She sheathes her weapon and darts toward the door when she hears movement in the adjacent room.

Emboldened by the giddy thrill of death and the scent of blood in her nostrils, Lumen runs across the planked walkways of Riften, not caring if she draws attention to herself. The guards and other denizens of the Riften night are not concerned with a fleeing Bosmer, assuming they saw her at all. Even if they did, they would soon forget her as a blood-curdling scream peals through the night air. "Constance," Lumen thinks, and the guards run toward Honorhall as Lumen reaches the gates.

The gates open and Lumen flees into the night.


Notes: This chapter was revised as of 1/19/2014. Not much was changed, just fixed some grammar issues, etc. :)

I want to thank Heiwako and Ghostanimal for their help. :)