Author's Note: Hello again! This is harari24 with the next installment of A Sword Named Shadow.
When I post, I usually answer some people's reviews, if I can. That said, thanks to the following people who reviewed:
...
Exactly.
I really hope I get some reviews. They taste good.
Oh, well. Here you go, Chapter 1!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. Enjoy.
A Sword Named Shadow
Chapter 1:
Excruciating Pain
Two heroes with humble beginnings, a strange meeting to each other, and an encounter that puts destiny in motion.
Lysara was feeling terrible, even before she was suddenly elbowed in the stomach today. She couldn't have felt more angry with herself than she did now. In fact, she couldn't stop thinking about it. She had been pacing her tiny cell, wallowing in her thoughts, occasionally speaking them.
"Clumsy, just clumsy!" she exclaimed once more. If there were any guards there, they would have definitely taken her for a madwoman.
It was pathetic, in her opinion. She should never have decided to actually do the contract. She was the Listener, and her job was to tell Arquen of the contracts, not do one of them!
But it was just one contract, Lysara thought, and it sounded easy!
The contract required the death of some traveling Altmer. A racist Altmer. Apparently, his little comments had rendered someone to praying for his death. When the Night Mother told her of this contract, she just felt like not telling Arquen about it.
It should have been an easy kill. It was, in fact. She followed the Altmer after he left Faregyl Inn and eventually finished him off. When she did that, however, she found herself on the roads outside of the Imperial City and in front of two Imperial City Guards on horses.
She halted her pacing. "That's probably where I screwed up." she stated in both realization and frustration.
She collapsed on the ground of her cell, face down, in exhaustion, ignoring the state of its cleanliness. Or lack thereof. Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes, desperately listening for a new sound. She envisioned herself outside again, surrounded by fresh air and grass. She saw herself in Bravil, which didn't feel as fresh as her first vision, but still meant something. She noticed her two sisters standing next to her, smiling at her with pride.
But when a familiar dark sword invaded her thoughts, she shook her head and pushed it to the back of her mind. Not now, she thought, don't think about it now. In an attempt to recreate her earlier thoughts, she closed her eyes once more.
She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was woken up in a really rude way.
It just happened. She wasn't sure what happened when it happened, but the next thing she knew, all of the air inside her was immediately knocked out when an Imperial City Guard threw a new and nearly unconscious prisoner onto her, the prisoner's elbow colliding with her stomach..
"UAAGH!" she yelled. The newcomer lifted his head after a few moments before silently swearing.
Get off, she exclaimed in her mind, get the hell off of me! Honestly, if this man did not get off of her, the pain she just experienced would eventually force her to vomit on him.
"GET OFF!" she finally yelled out. The man, who had not expected a voice to screech in his ear at full volume, hurriedly got off and backed into the metal bars of the cell. Lysara rolled onto her side, whimpering and clutching her stomach. She had never wanted to cry more than she did now. She still felt like vomiting, and damn, it seemed tempting to do so on the new prisoner.
When she finally managed to sit up without bile threatening to leave her throat, she turned her head to see a middle-aged Nord man staring back at her in shock. A few wrinkles adorned his face and his hair was mix of light brown and gray. Lysara could only assume that this man was in his forties or so.
"A-are you okay?" the man asked incredulously.
She shot him a look of disbelief. "Do I look okay?"
"I'm sorry!" he yelled out.
A little surprised by his loud apology, she responded quickly. "I-it's fine! I just didn't expect to get elbowed today, that's all."
"I'm...sorry about that."
"Again, it's fine. I'm okay. You just caught me off-guard."
"Sor-"
"SHUT UP!" she bellowed. "Gods, you're annoying!"
"I'm sor-"
"Don't you dare apologize again or I'm going to throw this pitcher at you!" she screeched out, grabbing a ceramic pitcher from the small wooden table and waving it around in the air.
After a few moments, he sat against the bars, looking rather bored.
"Hey, Nord..." Lysara stated. The man turned to her. "What's your name?"
He hesitated for a moment, as if wondering if it was safe to tell her, before ultimately speaking up, "...Ansgar."
"No clan?"
"I have a title...I just don't like using it."
"Well, what is it?"
"Don't laugh...it's Ansgar the Apologetic."
Short moments passed. Lysara is also a jerk. "Pfft-"
It was a miracle that not a single guard ran down to see what the hell was going on. She was laughing way too hard for it not to be noticed. "That's the name a beggar would have!"
"...sorry." Ansgar stated quietly. He only had a few seconds to dive out of the way so that the ceramic pitcher thrown at him wouldn't shatter in his face.
"Stop apologizing." she threatened darkly. "It's annoying."
"Sor-" he began, but she hissed at him before he could finish.
They sat in silence. A rather awkward one at that. Lysara soon broke it.
"Lysara. Lysara Geontene." she murmured as she extended a hand. Ansgar stared at her, confused, until he realized she told him her name. After shaking her hand, he turned away and fell asleep.
For Lysara, the next day was starting out great. For one thing, she woke up in an unusually good mood. The pain in her stomach was gone, and Ansgar hadn't apologized yet.
Something just felt so right about today. But she couldn't ignore a feeling that she had in the back of her head that kept screaming about something really bad coming up.
A few hours later, Ansgar apologized for almost stepping on her and she threw the ceramic cup at him, thus ending Lysara's happy feeling. She just sat against the wall with her arms crossed, a few feet away from the metal bars of the cell.
She had almost fallen asleep when Ansgar shook her.
"Huh, wha? Ansgar, what the hell?" she asked in annoyance.
"Sorry I had to wake you." he began, unknowingly pissing Lysara off. "But I think someone's coming."
"What?" she stated. She stood up and walked towards the cell door. He was right. She could hear people coming. The first voice she heard was a woman's voice. "Baurus! Lock that door behind us!" the voice ordered from down the hall.
"Yessir." a male voice responded. She could only presume that this was Baurus.
"My sons...they're dead, aren't they?" another male voice asked. It had an older, gentler yet gloomy sound to it. Out of the corner of her eye, Lysara saw Ansgar perk up slightly, as if he recognized the voice.
"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked." the female voice responded.
"No, they're dead. I know it."
"My job right now is to get you to safety." the female voice said again as a male Imperial and a female Breton stopped in front of the cell. Their armor was different than that of a prison guard, so they were most likely a sort of bodyguard. The armor was a steel gray accented with gold. The helmet, the same steel gray, covered most of the head, the nose, and cheekbones. The part covering the nose looked like a golden snake. "What are these prisoners doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits."
The Imperial turned to the Breton. "Uh, usual mix up with the watch. I..." he stammered before the woman cut him off.
"Never mind. Get that gate open. " she demanded before turning to Lysara and Ansgar. "Both of you, stand back. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."
Lysara simply stared back before slowly making her way to the corner of the cell. She stopped to nudge Ansgar, who stood in his place staring at the two bodyguards.
"Hey, Nord. Let's go." she whispered as the cell door opened and the bodyguards made their way inside. Lysara walked to the corner and leaned against the wall, folding her arms.
It was now that she took notice of the elderly man that followed them . He wore elegant robes and had a strangely regal air to him, yet he held a melancholic expression. Ansgar suddenly walked over to him and knelt before him, much to the bodyguards' dismay.
"Sire." he said respectfully. The older man gazed at him before a smile appeared on his face, and something resembling gaiety momentarily shone in his gray eyes.
"Ansgar. So good to see you, old friend. How are you?"
The said nord stood up and took a few noticeable glances at the cell before replying. "I honestly could be doing much better."
One of the bodyguards began advancing on Ansgar, but the robed man lifted a hand to calm them. "It's alright. He is one of your own."
"This man is a Blade? What's he doing in jail?"
"It's...a long story that I don't want to talk about." Ansgar responded to the Blade's question.
"I did not expect to see you here, for I know that you are no criminal. Whatever charges against you are most definitely wrong. You are pardoned, as such I will need you once more." the Emperor said.
Before Ansgar could ask what he meant, another voice interjected. "No sign of pursuit, sir." the voice said, being directed at the female bodyguard.
"Good. Let's go. We're not out of this yet." she said as they began walking towards the end of the cell. It was then that the Emperor suddenly stopped. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Lysara.
"You...I've seen you..." he said slowly, before walking up to Lysara. "Let me your face..."
Lysara raised an eyebrow at him before shrugging and pushing away from the wall. She took a step towards him before he spoke once more.
"You are the one from my dreams...then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength." he said sadly.
"Er...care to explain?" an extremely confused Lysara asked in a slightly rude tone.
The Emperor didn't seem to notice or care about the tone. "Assassins attacked my sons, and I am next." he began. "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."
"Who are you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. It just felt right. She wasn't sure why, but it just did.
"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."
"Well, why my cell? Why was the escape route through here, the cell of a murderer?" she asked.
"Perhaps the Gods have led us here so that we may meet." the Emperor replied. "As for what you have done to end up here...it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."
Lysara narrowed her eyes at the mere idea of divine intervention. "I go my own way."
"So do we all. But what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty Gods?" he said in reply.
Lysara nodded in acknowledgment to his answer. It was his opinion. She wouldn't disrespect that.
"Please, sire, we must keep moving." the female body guard said as she walked over to the wall that Lysara was facing. She pushed one of the bricks and suddenly, the stone slab that lined the bottom of the wall lowered and the majority of the wall itself slowly swung open, dust escaping. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the new hole in the wall with contempt. How come I didn't notice that?
The female Breton bodyguard began to walk towards the hole. "Better not close this one. There's no way to open it from the other side." she continued through the hole, followed by the Emperor, Ansgar, the Imperial, and the Redguard.
"Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way." the Redguard named Baurus said to Lysara.
She stared at the hole in surprise. It just seemed too good, and impossible, to be true. Pinching her right cheek and realizing that it hurt, she sauntered after the group.
Author's Note:
This chapter was actually already done before I started typing up the prologue. I only now changed most of it, leading to what we have now.
Since nobody reviewed, I don't have to explain the prologue. Yay!
I thought that whole 'apologizing-over-and-over-again' bit with Ansgar was lame. Wouldn't you agree?
In my opinion, the story sucks right now. If you agree, then I promise you, it WILL GET BETTER!
Since I do not have the second chapter prematurely typed up, expect the next update to be a while. I also have a school project coming up, so I'll be really busy. Check my profile for any updates on my own status, as well as the second chapter's status.
And yes, Dreth is not there. He's dead.
Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.