"Ugh!" Cyra groaned in annoyance as she pulled the Captain's sword from yet another goblin corpse. She had bumbled through the twisting tunnels beneath the Imperial City for what seemed like hours, hacking her way through rats, an unending supply of goblins and walking corpses. It was getting to the point that where she wondered if she would ever see the light of day again. Cyra peered into a small ravine where the goblins had corralled a pack of rats,
"I suppose if worse comes to worst I can always back track here and eat you one by one," she said to the rats with a grimace: the rats ignored her.
Cyra rifled through the odds and ends that the goblins had collected over the years for anything that might be of use or value: she found very little save a new torch. Stuffing what she could in the knapsack, she lit the torch using the goblin's campfire and crept into the next passage with her sword drawn. At the end of the passage she could see a bit of natural light filtering through a hole in the wall that led back into the sanctum. She could also hear muffled voices: she climbed through the hole and crept closer.
"Has anyone seen the prisoner?"
"Do you think she followed us?"
"How could she have?"
"Look out Sire! Here they come again!"
Cyra could hear the fight break out, it was brief and it ended just as she reached the edge of the ledge. It was at least a seven-foot drop to the floor where the Emperor and his Blades stood.
"Damn it! There's that prisoner! Kill her she's probably working with the assassins," the Imperial guard shouted as he drew his sword.
"No, she is not one of them. She will help us. She must help us. Stand down," the Emperor ordered.
"As you command Sir," the Imperial said begrudgingly.
"Come closer, my guards will not harm you," the Emperor called.
Cyra tossed her weapons and knapsack to the ground before swinging herself over the side of the ledge and dropping down awkwardly.
"Here, make yourself useful and carry this," the Redguard said handing her a lit torch, "I'm Baurus, a member of the Blades: the Emperor's personal bodyguards."
Cyra took up a position next to the Emperor; ignoring the icy glare the Imperial guard shot her.
"Let's move," the Imperial said.
"They mean well," Uriel said in a low voice, "They just can't understand why I trust you. They haven't seen the same things that I've seen, even now I couldn't explain it if I tried. You know the Nine?" he asked.
"I don't know that I'm on terribly good terms with the gods as of late," Cyra replied, certainly none of them had helped her in the last several years.
The Emperor considered her statement for a few moments then nodded in understanding,
"I've served the Nine all my days, I chart my course in their stars. I've seen the hours of my death approaching; in this I've been most fortunate."
"You're not afraid to die?" Cyra asked.
"The Nine have granted me a measure of peace, this is my destiny," he said simply.
"And you've foreseen my destiny as well?"
"The Nine grant me no opinion of success but I've beheld the dawn of Akatosh in your face. Today the Shadow will hide you from destiny's cunning hounds on this day," he replied earnestly. Before Cyra could decipher the cryptic statement Baurus's voice rang out,
"Protect the Emperor!"
Assassins once again appeared from the shadows. Cyra drew her sword and stood at the Emperor's side, ready to defend him if any should break past the guards. The assassins were swiftly put down and the party was on guard as they advanced slowly once again through the passages.
"We're almost there," the Imperial called, " the exit should be up here."
He grasped the gate and pulled,
"Damn it! It's barred from the other side: a trap!" he exclaimed.
"What about that side passage back there?" Baurus questioned.
"Worth a shot. Come on," the Imperial urged.
They filed into a narrow passageway that opened into a small room.
"It's a dead end, now what? It's your call Sire," Baurus said.
"What was that?" the Imperial said, "Damn it, they're behind us!" he cried.
"Stay here, guard the Emperor with your life," Baurus commanded Cyra.
Cyra nodded and held her sword a little tighter as battle cries and shouts erupted from the preceding room. The clashing of metal grew louder as the assassins pressed the Blades back. Suddenly the Emperor turned to Cyra,
"I can go no further," he said as he unclasped the large ruby amulet from his throat. "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants, he must not have the Amulet of Kings. Take the amulet; give it to Jauffre, he alone knows where to find my last son. Find him and close shut the Jaws of Oblivion!" he cried as he pressed the necklace into her palm and curled her fingers around it.
The wall directly behind the Emperor crumbled and an assassin materialized in the void behind it. Cyra was frozen to the spot as he plunged a dagger into the Emperor, killing him instantly.
"You picked a bad day to take up with the Septims stranger," the assassin snarled as he turned his attention her, Cyra barely had time to block his attack. The assassin quickly maneuvered her into a corner as she blocked and parried for all she was worth. Out of practice and out of shape, Cyra could barely keep up let alone find an opening.
"For the Emperor!" Baurus cried as he drove his sword through the assassin from behind.
Cyra collapsed against the wall in relief when the assassin fell.
"No. No, no, no, no!" Baurus cried, "We failed! I've failed," he said sadly as he went to the Emperor's corpse and turned him gently on to his back. He looked up at Cyra, genuine grief staining his features,
"The Amulet…" he said suddenly, "Where is the Amulet of Kings?"
Cyra produced it cautiously,
"He gave it to me," she said.
"You? Why?" Baurus said.
"He said that I need to take it to Jauffre, that he has another son and Jauffre would know where to find him," Cyra replied.
Baurus's brow wrinkled as he processed this new information,
"Hmmm… well it's nothing that I know about but if anyone would know Jauffre would be the man. He's the Grandmaster of the Blades, although you wouldn't know it to look at him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory just outside Chorrol. Many of the Blades live undercover, we're the Emperor's spies predominately," he mused.
The sound of Baurus's knees cracking echoed softly in the sanctum as he stood, he looked very tired. Fishing through his pockets, he produced a rusted key and held it out to Cyra,
"You'll need this to get out that last door, it leads to the Imperial City sewers. There's probably rats and goblins down there but I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle, experienced prisoner that you are," he said with half a smirk.
"Scout actually, or at least I was once upon a time," she said accepting the key, "my name is Cyra."
"Well, either way, I'm sure you'll be fine. The Emperor trusted you for a reason, it's the least I can do to follow suit. Thanks for recovering Captain Renault's sword by the way, I'll make sure it gets a place of honor in the hall of the Blades: it's tradition," Baurus said taking the katana from Cyra's hand.
"Glenroy always carried an extra blade: he won't have any use for it now, you can take it," he said, handing her a short steel sword.
"What about you?" Cyra asked hefting the sword experimentally.
"I'll wait here with the Emperor's body until help arrives," he said somberly.
"Be safe then," she said as she climbed through the hole in the wall.
"You too; don't let anyone know what you carry. The Amulet of Kings holds real power; it's a gift from Akatosh himself to the Septim line," Baurus warned.
Cyra nodded and with one last parting glance at the Emperor's body she slipped into the shadows and through the door into the sewers.
Sometime later Cyra pulled open the grate covering the sewer's exit and took a tentative step outside. What had been a violent storm the previous evening was now steady rain blanketing the land in a cold gray aura. Cyra could honestly say she'd never been happier to feel raindrops on her face. The Imperial City sewers emptied out into a remote area of Lake Rumare: the large body of water surrounding the island city. An old service dock was nearby but it looked like it hadn't been repaired, let alone used, in a long time. Cyra stowed her things on the dock and with a few furtive glances, she stripped naked and plunged into the lake. She submerged herself as long as physically possible before surfacing. She grabbed a handful of water hyacinth leaves and scrubbed until her skin was raw: it had been so long since she was clean. Although, truth be told it would still be a long while before she truly felt clean again.
When she had finished bathing she emerged from the water cautiously. Certain that she was still alone, she pulled the Amulet of Kings out of her knapsack and turned it over in her hand. The giant ruby was set in gold and encrusted with accent gems: the stone gleamed with an inner fire. Unsure of the best way to keep it safe she tried to fasten it around her neck but the necklace refused to stay on: perhaps because she didn't have Septim blood flowing through her veins. Cyra pulled several articles of clothing out of the knapsack that she had looted from the goblins. Some of the clothes were in good repair, almost new: the goblins must have robbed a supply shipment at one time or another. She tore one of the skirts into long strips and used it to bind her breasts, securing the Amulet of Kings within the wraps. She pulled on a woolen shirt and skirt before slipping the old boots back on and buckling the rotted chest piece back in place. Shouldering her equipment, Cyra set out to find Jauffre: it was the least she could do considering the Emperor had gifted her freedom once again.