A/N: Location is Reachcliff Cave; Lily uses the secret entrance. Technically locked until you complete the "Taste of Death" quest, though.


The Bloody Curse

Further on down the dusty road, Lily crossed a bridge, and her eyes were drawn to an ancient metal door set into the lichen-covered stone of the mountainside. The weathered bronze was nearly the same color as the surrounding stone, and difficult to see. Had the last rays of the sun not struck the surface, Lily might have missed it.

Grateful for shelter for the night, she trotted up to the door and pulled the handles outward. It didn't occur to her to wonder why it opened easily on well-oiled hinges.

A dimly-lit, circular room greeted her, the doorway flanked by two huge urns. Across the room, an old bookshelf with a few books and a grisly-looking human skull stood. Shuddering, she decided it would be best to sleep concealed, and spread her bedroll behind the largest of the urns. It would prove the saving of her life.

Late in the night, Lily was startled awake by the door opening. She froze in fear; the newcomers were dressed in dark robes and moved almost silently.

"What are we to do?" one of the figures asked nervously. By the accent and timber, Lily identified the speaker as a Dunmer man.

"Just as we have always done when the eyes have opened too wide," the other replied. This one was unmistakably a Nord woman. "We retreat until the storm blows over."

"But I hunger!" complained another Nord woman's voice. "My stomach pinches and my mouth wets. Can we not spirit at least one of them away? They would want us to, I'm certain of it."

"Hold your tongue or I shall have it from you," the first woman snarled. "I hunger as well. We must be discreet."

"I'll not be going back to deer meat," the second woman spat contemptuously. "My stomach would reject it."

"Then you will starve, wench," the Dunmer snapped.

"Come, my friends," the first said soothingly. "We accomplish nothing by fighting among ourselves. We are fewer now; we must embrace one another. There is meat yet in our stores to sustain us, and of course the Forsworn are plentiful. We shall not lack."

"Tis not Nord meat, as is preferred," the second hissed, and Lily plainly heard her smack her lips. "They have a particular taste I quite like."

A slap echoed in the chamber. "You will abide by my words, Siri! If you endanger the rest of us with your carelessness, I will not hesitate to slay you in Namira's name myself. Now come. It is past time we fed. I am quicker to anger when I have had to settle for beast meat."

The three figures disappeared down the tunnel opposite the door, leaving Lily trembling. There was no doubt in her mind what they were discussing. For a moment, she didn't know what to do.

There were only three of them. Only three. She could slay them, as the Thalmor Justiciars had the others. If she lived, perhaps... perhaps the Jarl would see she was not one of them. She faltered, though. To take the life of another, even ones so foul and wretched as these... Yet they stole something precious from her. They had lured her parents into their abhorrent practices, leading to their deaths. Their 'hunger' drove Lily from the only home she'd ever known, never to return.

A flame of hate flared in her gut. Buckling on her sword belt and quiver, she steeled herself. They were going to die for what they'd done. Hopefully on an empty stomach, if she had anything to say about it. She strung her bow, and crept to the tunnel, listening for any sounds ahead. All was quiet enough, so she inched forward. It was rather like stalking prey in the wilds with her father, and in a sense she felt he was with her. She could not bear the idea that her father was as dedicated to this feast of flesh as those people she overheard were. For some reason, it was easier to believe her mother reveling in it than her father.

The tunnel led downward for many yards. Torches sputtered weakly at irregular intervals, casting wild shadows on the rough-hewn walls. Mist hung in the air, likely due to moisture from the river that ran not far from the caves. Dust drifted lazily as well; it was difficult for Lily to breathe without coughing and giving herself away. Eventually, the tunnel opened onto a narrow chamber forming a 'T' intersection. Four black stone effigies of birds of prey stood at the corners, decorated in the ancient Nord style. Hundreds of fat white candles burned throughout the room.

And there was blood. It was spilled on the floor, splattered on the walls. The air stank of death.

Fighting down the urge to vomit, Lily silently moved to the bronze door to her right. She could hear the murmur of voices beyond, the tinkle of dishes. An occasional laugh. Nocking an arrow, she steadied herself and took a deep, shuddering breath to still her moment of panic, then slowly eased the door open wth her shoulder.

The entryway by the door was in shadows, for which Lily was grateful. Still, she darted into the room quickly lest the candlelight from the bloody chamber cast a shadow. The feasters seemed oblivious as they chatted amicably over their 'dinner.' The closest one was the Dunmer man. Lily took aim at his head and fired.

As soon as the man fell face down on the table without so much as a cry, Lily moved swiftly through the shadows to a different location. The Nord women vaulted from their seats.

"Benar!" cried one, rushing to the man's side. Her face contorting with fury, she stretched her right hand skyward and cast. The air rippled around the man's body in a swirl of purple shades of energy, enveloping the corpse and lifting it up. Lily was momentarily transfixed with horror as the woman lowered her arm, and the corpse settled on its feet. Then it began to move on its own.

Panicking, she fumbled another arrow into position and took aim at the apparent leader, who was casting a summoning spell. Her arrow interrupted the woman before the spell could be completed, but left her open to the other two. Once more, Lily ducked and darted from one bit of shadow to another, firing on the run.

Quite by accident, for she was aiming at the necromancer, one of her arrows struck the Dunmer, and his body seemed to explode, raining ash upon the floor. Lily forced herself to ignore it and keep shooting. It took two more arrows through the woman to bring her down; a third to finish her. That left the summoner.

Her interrupting arrow had pierced the woman's shoulder, rendering her primary casting arm useless, but she was not finished yet. Lily lost sight of her while dealing with the other two, and now had no idea where the woman had gone. Eyes wide with fear, she stared around the dining hall from a place of concealment, looking for any sign of movement.

"A mouse caught in a trap," a cold voice said calmly, sounding hollow in the silence. Lily froze. "You cannot move, or I will see you. I cannot move, for you will see me. We are at an impasse, little mouse."

"There is no impasse," Lily said more bravely than she felt. "I will kill you. I don't care how long I have to wait. You will likely lose your head with hunger long before I do."

The woman chuckled. "So courageous. Such bravado. Who are you, mouse?"

Lily took deep breaths to calm herself. The chamber was typical of mead halls, with a high ceiling and wide floor. The stonework sent their voices dancing around the walls, hiding their locations from one another. Yet she listened as hard as she could for anything that sounded like movement.

"Your slayer, filth," she replied. "That is all you need to know."

Her quarry laughed this time, the sound echoing harshly in the stillness. She was getting closer. Lily stiffened and slid an arrow from her quiver.

"You cannot slay me, little mouse. I am blessed by Namira. She watches over me."

"She's bound to blink sooner or later," Lily growled. If she could keep the woman talking, she'd be able to pinpoint her location. It was just a matter of concentrating... just as her father had taught her.

"Namira does not blink," the woman said, a hint of affront in her voice. "She watches tirelessly. She sees you now. Keep your secrets from me if you like, but you cannot hide from her."

There. Lily's mouth formed a grim line as she pulled back on the bowstring. "Your dedication is admirable. Perhaps it is time you met her in person."

Lily leaped to her feet, aiming swiftly and loosing the arrow. At the same time, the other woman rose up, a spell already forming in her hands. Flames shot forth; had Lily's arrow been made of anything but steel, the fire would have consumed it before it ever reached its mark.

Throwing herself to the floor, Lily rolled to put out the flames that wreathed her body. It was several minutes of nearly fruitless effort, for magical fire was not so easily quenched, before the flames receded of their own accord, leaving her singed, burned, breathless, but alive. With relief, she realized the other woman was dead, an arrow through her throat. Evidently, Namira blinked.

Regardless that she was weary enough to sleep for days, aching from using muscles that had hardly been engaged so rigorously before, and stinging from many burns, Lily felt invigorated. She had faced enemies of her kin, and defeated them. What's more, she'd been outnumbered and prevailed. It was a heady feeling.

She forced herself to search the bodies. None carried notes or diaries; likely they didn't commit their deeds to paper, lest such information be wrested or pickpocketed from them. But they carried coin, and wore fine jewelry. Lily pocketed these; she'd left Markarth with nothing, after all. It was only fitting that the thieves of her comfortable life be made to compensate her for it.

Scanning the room, her eyes fell upon what must be an altar at one end. She cautiously approached it, grimacing with revulsion. It was hideous: a stone slab stood before a giant effigy of what was likely Namira herself, or at least a hideous face meant to represent the Daedric Prince. Batlike wings cupped an offering dish, in which her followers had placed a heart, presumably human. Above the dish, the face loomed, tusklike protrusions curving out around its mouth, from which a head with an agonized face peered.

There was blood everywhere. If the smaller chamber was the site of the slaying, the altar must be where they prepared their 'meals.' Lily finally decided she had spent more than sufficient time in the dining hall, and hastened out.

In the bloody chamber, she paused. A chain dangled from a hole in the wall, rather like a bellpull in a manor house. Curiosity tugged at her for a moment. Shaking her head to clear it, she decided she was finished, and ran up the tunnel to the exit.

Lily sucked in deep breaths once she stood beneath the moon once more. She'd forgotten what fresh, untainted air tasted like. The path she'd followed led southeast up the rise, and she continued on a touch more warily than she might have before. It was finally sinking in that she was on her own. As Ghorza said, there was no prize for failure in anything anymore.

As she reached the top of the hill, she was startled to see the timbered walls of a large fortress. Curiosity got the better of her this time, and she headed toward the sturdy walls. It wasn't until she was close enough to make out details of whose settlement it was that other things also became apparent.

Judging by the men and women defending the walls, it was undoubtedly an Orsimer stronghold. Though Lily had never seen them before, she'd heard enough descriptions to identify the stronghold's attackers as Forsworn. Stringing her bow once more, Lily raced down the hill.