Chapter 4
Wakey Wakey, Eggs and Backy?
It was entirely dark save for the fireplace. In the shadows a figure of an aged man stood, its head bowed deep in thought. Something red around the figure's neck glinted brightly against the firelight as it turned to face me. The figure slowly lifted up its head allowing a clearer view of face by the flickering fireside. The bright, wise, blue eyes looked directly at me and I froze, something about them was frighteningly unnatural. He looked surprised but then smiled as though looking at an old friend. He did not speak.
"I was born 87 years ago. For 65 years I've ruled as Tamriel's Emperor. But for all these years, I've never been the ruler of my own dreams. I have seen the gates of Oblivion; beyond which no waking eye may see."
A flash of light and I saw a land of fire and death where soot rained down from the smoke-filled sky and was inhabited by hideous creatures I immediately knew to be evil. They marched beside the biggest machine I had ever seen which vaguely resembled a battering ram towards a swirling vortex of raw energy... portal?
"Behold. In darkness a doom sweeps the land."
War drums rang in my ear as the machine of war and the army came closer... closer... closer... and ever closer to achieving their goal. I could not let that happen. Another bright flash of light and I was flying high above the sky over the reflective water of a lake. And in the center of that lake, was a glorious, white, stone city with a giant tower which seemed taller than any skyscraper I'd known.
"This is the 27th of Last Seed, the year of Akatosh 433. These are the closing days of the third era and the final hours... of my life."
I saw a girl sprawled out unceremoniously on the floor of the city's much less glorious prison. Her clothes were so familiar yet odd. She was me.
"Find her and close shut the jaws of Oblivion..."
The strange, almost mystical voice echoed through my head. In a trance like state, my mind had barely registered a single word it had as it as much too focused on subconsciously observing its new surroundings. Yet, the entire vision had embedded itself in my memory, almost burnt into it more than my very identity like some primitive, animalistic response pattern passed down throughout generations. I thoughtlessly stretched out to touch warm sand only to find cold floor.
Then I woke up.
"Am I dead?" I softly mused aloud, still lying on my back with my eyes shut closed. For some reason, I could not open my eyes. Still I began to try to piece together my predicament. I was lying on something hard, freezing, and filthy. My clothes were slightly damp and reeked completely of salt water although I could remember why. I felt the tickling sensation of my eyelashes fluttering as I observed two blurry looking lights floating in the air.
What the? But I thought my eyes were closed?...
At first I justified that I might be dead. A transparent vision of a smiling, golden haired, Diana, flashed in my mind and the musical sound of laughter that she would make whenever we were joking rang clear as a bell almost like she was right there in a palpable form. "Whatever you do, Nicky, don't move towards the liiiiiiiiiiight!..."
Diana's voice and ghostly apparition faded as quickly as they had appeared and my blurred vision slowly focused on the two floating orbs which turned out to be... a torch?
I finally was able to mentally register the fact that my eyes HAD been open for quite some time. It had simply been dark to see where I was. Wherever that was in the first place of course.
Now that I was at least quasi aware that I probably wasn't dead and my "systems were rebooting" (As I put it), I decided to see if I could physically move. One by one, I began to twitch each finger. I felt a subtle smirk crawl onto my face as each finger gently tapped the roughly textured floor beneath my body. I slowly moved my arms underneath myself in an attempt to sit up.
Bad idea.
My weak limbs whined - No. Demanded I cease all movement at once. I foolishly ignored the demands and promptly forced myself to sit. I was immediately hit with a sudden, yet powerful wave of sickness. If you'd ever been sick in bed with a baaaaaaaaaaad case of the stomach flu for an entire week and tried to stand up while experiencing a 101 degree fever, you'd know the general feeling I was experiencing. Except replace "101" degrees with "150" and think more along the lines of a three week illness instead of one.
Symptoms included extreme waves of dizziness which surged through my aching head; my stomach feeling as though someone had twisted it into a pretzel, stuffed it full of glass, and was now viciously punching it; and fits of violent chills shaking my body like I was possessed by some evil spirit. Furthermore, my now adjusted vision began to morph between its "normal" state and complete blindness as head rushes (combined with the other previous effects already mentioned) threatened to knock me back down onto the floor.
I fought back against these wicked and cruel forces of physical limitations, my now screeching body heroically rising up like a mighty phoenix soaring in the air, towering against a thousand desires to just give up and lay down!
I lost.
My weak, wobbling legs could not support my torso. They collapsed so quickly I did not have enough time to acknowledge, much less avoid, the impending face plant as my body lifelessly slumped forwards to the floor. Not that I really cared much at the time because my head hurt too much to focus or fear the incoming pain.
Fortunately. I landed, or at least my head did anyways, on something soft, padded, and all too familiar. After that, I was drifting in and out of consciousness for a few minutes, maybe half an hour, until I finally could once again think coherently. I lifted my head up from off the padded cushion and brushed my ratty, tangled hair out of my face to discover my improvised pillow was actually a bright mint green. My backpack! Then I reached out both my arms to stretch them and wouldn't you know it, I felt something else I recognized right there next to my backpack with my left hand. The smoothness of it told me that this new something could only be my purse. I gently plopped my head back onto my backpack. For what felt like (and probably was) hours I simply lay there, seamlessly transitioning between the state of sleep and alertness in an attempt to restore the corpse I called a body. Although, every time I woke up it would still feel like I was dreaming. Which made sense at the time because of the trouble I had identifying my already impossible to believe surroundings. By the fifth time I had reawakened I felt much stronger than before.
I was ready to try standing again, or at least that's what I hoped. It was now significantly light enough for me to notice a splintery looking table and stool on my left. My arms were able to grab hold and use the table to steady myself as I rose from the floor. Although lightheaded and still very weak, I was pleased to find myself capable of such a feat.
Now for the tricky part. I thought as I released the table from my grasp, attempting to stand independently without any "cheating". I felt my heart skip a beat or two as I swayed and stumbled until I finally found my center of balance. My satisfaction was short lived however because now that I was standing I was able to piece together the dishorted obervations I had made through that miserable night. Although it was still almost too dark to even see my own hand, I noticed that a second source of light was now streaming through my undersized, high window. It was obiviously in the morning in whatever country I was in. Other than that, the crappy living condition of the room I was in, the below freezing temperature, and the iron bars in front of my face it was pretty clear I was- WAIT JUST A MOTHERTRUCKING MINTUE!
'Iron bars!' I mouthed hoarsely, dumbfounded. I absentmindedly scratched at an itch on my wrist while trying to recall the events that had occurred up until this point. I had assumed I was in some cruddy third world makeshift hospital. However, now with these stupid iron bars dumbly staring me in the face a new, less desirable possibility came to light.
I pondered this question in dead silence, mentally arguing with myself in the hopes of eliminating this unattractive possibility from reality. The only noise to be heard was the soft, but violent hum of my fingernails clawing at my increasingly itchy wrists which not burned with pain.
Owwwww, what the hell! I thought as I growled in pain I as lifted my hands up to inspect them. The palms of my hands were little irritated themselves, being covered in still healing stratches and cuts. As my eyes probed the damage and drifted down to see my wrists my heart dropped.
Huge, rusty iron shackles were the cause of a spreading rash on my wrists. My wrist on my right hand was in particular bad shape because the shackle was pressing my watch down into my wrist causing some disgusting, oily substance to ooze out of my wounds. I sighed, my stubborn denial was finally defeated. I was for some inexplicable reason, imprisoned. However, the question of the day still was where?
My cell was definitely old school and bore a slight resemblance to ones in Pirates of the Caribbean movies or any other movie that depicted a character being incarcerated from that time period or any era before it. But really it was alot more like one of those medieval torture dungeons I ironically loved to read about. I breathed heavily, trying to calm my nerves. I heard a hacking sound that sounded like coughing coming from the cell across from mine and lifted my head up, approaching the cell door and wrapping my hands around the bars trying to get a better look at my neighbor.
There, lurking in the shadows was man who noticeably twitched. It didn't take a shrink to tell me that this convict was unstable to say the least. The insane man's head shot up and his eyes met mine. His red eyes! My eyes widened and I almost gave an involuntary shudder but instead , I doubted his eyes were really red, probably just a trick of the light and secondly I could not- would not allow myself to any show weakness to this creeper! He too stepped to the edge of his cell, as if evaluating me.
"What the hell. do you think you're looking at?" I demanded, my dry throat managing to still force out words in threatening manner.
I scowled as his raspy voice echoed throughout the dungeon, its unpleasantness hurting my ears.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? An Imperial in the Imperial Prison, perhaps?" He squinted to get a better look of me. "Hmmmmm, you look like an Imperial, but you're a little too short, and slightly too tall to be a dark haired Breton." He released an irritated snort. " Probably filthy little half-breed, they threw down here to get rid of forever."
I had no idea what the hell he was talking and I cocked an eyebrow amused at his meaningless insults, but he pissed me off as I noticed his eyes drifting up and down my body. First he tries to insult me, and now this pig is checking me out! Fuming, I opened my mouth to retort, but was cut off.
"Hmmmmmm, what ridiculous garments you wear." He gestured to my ruined outfit before continuing.
"Oh my, you aren't a half-breed are you, little girl? No, you don't have a hint of that "Breton" magicka aura around you... hmmmm you aren't a Nord either, despite your obvious temper issues. But then, what else could you possibly be?"
That's it, I've had enough of this stupid game.
"Dude. What the fuck are you on about?"
You know what that asshole did then? He laughed in that annoyingly creepy, mocking voice again. I blinked, confused.
"Not from around here, are you. No that's for certain." His words dripped with contempt as his frown twisted into a demonic smile.
"Oh well. It does not matter what land you may come from or what you are, stranger. You are going to meet your end down in this godsforsaken hole all alone, little one. Oh. That's right. You're going to die in here, little girl. You're going to die." His eyes held a predatory glint to them as he took great pride to be the one to inform me of my impending death. How sweet of him. All the same, I was frightened by what he had to say but I still couldn't let him see that, now could I?
I humphed "Why don't you stop hiding in the dark and stand where I can see you! Or are you too much of a cowardly snake?"
He stepped into the torchlight of his cell. The light showed his face clearly. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as an audible gasp escaped my mouth. Not only were his eyes actually red, but his hair was a disgusting gray. His hairline was already receding, although he did not seem that old at all. His ears were pointed to resemble sharp knives. But worst of all he was a dark, bluish purple color. Almost like a bruise. That thing looked like an evil, overgrown, disease ridden smurf!
"Gah! What the fuck are you!" So much for concealing my fear. He smirked.
"What? Never seen a Dunmer before? Perhaps you have heard of us as the Dark Elves?... No? Oh, well. It does not matter. Pitiful thing like you will be dead soon and I'll be out of here before long."
I just stared at him still in shock like a complete moron until the distant sound of approaching footsteps and hushed whispering grabbed my attention. My head shot away from the creature and towards the stairs where the noise was coming from... It took notice of the sounds as well.
"Hey. You hear that? The guards are coming. For you. Hehehehehehehahaha." It mocked before backing further into the shadows once more. My heart was racing. I focused in on what the voices were saying.
"Baurus, Lock that door behind us." A distincly female voice ordered with an air of authority to responded by deep-voiced male one I identified as "Boris".
"Yes, Sir."
"My sons... They're dead, aren't they?" I narrowed my eyes at the old man's voice which dripped with sorrow. I knew this voice. But from where?
"We don't know that, sire. The messanger only said they were attacked." The female voice spoke out once more, closer this time. I could see their shadows dance on the staircase.
"No. They're dead." The old man stated simply before whispering almost to himself. "I know it." The group reached the bottom of the stairs and walked directly towards my cell. I took a small step back but still inspected the group. There were two men and one woman all decked out in strange, steel, plate armor! They were heavily armed too, not with guns, but with katanas. I did a double take. What kind of freak show had I landed myself in? The old man was mostly hidden behind these people. But he looked like he was wearing a deep purple robe, decorated with rich white fur and bright jewels including a gigantic ruby amulet around his neck. He was clearly a king or wealthy noble of some type.
"My job right now is to get you to safety." The woman answered once again before taking notice of me. She practically growled in frustation.
"What's this prisoner doing here! This cell is supposed to off-limits!" She barked at one of the men.
"Usual mix up with the watch... err. I-" The man who was not "Boris" swifted nervously under his commander's judgemental gaze. He glared at me from out of the corner of his eyes, blaming my existance for bringing his incompatance under inspection by this woman.
"Never mind. Get that gate open." She ordered before looking accusingly at me. "Stand back prisioner! We won't hesiate to kill you if you get in our way!"
I slowly backed up and picked up my purse and backpack to avoid tripping over them. apparently the man she had scared was an insecure, power craving idoit, because I was almost by the window when he felt he needed to yell at me as well.
"You, Prisoner! Stand aside! Over by the window! Stay out of the way and you won't get hurt." I heard the jiggling of keys and suddenly the door swung open with a loud squeak. The rude man briskly marched up to stand over me before violently pushing me so my back touched the wall. His eyes drifted down onto my alien clothing, inspecting them with great curiousity.
Oh great, another pig that needs to put into his place. I scowled.
"My eyes are up here, asswipe." I said, weakly. Normally I would have alot more fight in me, but I was tired, confused, and scared. I've never been very mouthy whenever I was sick, but today I was in a sitution which was fight or flight. And I ALWAYS fight.
His eyes shot back up to glare at mine and of course I glared right back, refusing to break eye contact as he growled.
"Stay put, prisoner." He practically spat. Now, I know I should be more careful. I mean, this guy probably could, and just might kill me, but when I see red, then it's full bitch time. And this guy was purposely being a jerk even though a monkey could see the pathetic, weakened, and even terrified state I was in. The fact he felt challenged by girl who just wanted to know where the hell she was and a little help was just sad. Therefore I had no respect for him. And tormenting him to the best of my abilites would prove an eventful day for me, if I didn't feel like I had to vomit. No. Im serious. I really did have to vomit.
The rest of the group entered, but I was too busy glaring and gagging back my lunch to notice what they were saying.
"Good. Let's go, we're not out of this yet." The woman said to Boris, as I aburply broke eye contact with the other man, now hacking violently as my stomach churned. Viola! My system had succeeded in temporary cleansing itself. There was my wonderful baloney sandwich arranged like an abstract masterpiece painted by a true artist. The best part?
"AH!"
It was now all over the grievaces of man I was previously having a stare down with. And yes, he totally just yelped. Like a little girl. Which in turn earned me the full attention of the entire group. It was friggin' priceless.
I groaned in pain, clutching my tummy as though to tame the boiling fluids inside of it. If my sickness hadn't made me so miserable, I would have appericated the somewhat ridicilous situation way more. The man looked disgusted beyong belief before rage began to fill his very eyes with thoughts of murder. Uh oh. If he wasn't already going to kill me before, he was certainly now. His hand ripped his blade out of it's sheath and he raised it to my neck just about ready to run me through. My heart stopped. This was it.
"Wait! Stop, Glenroy!"
The man lowered his katana slowly. Disapointment etched deeply on his face as he obeyed, like a dog to his master. The old man had given the order. "Glenroy" backed away, and all the guards, after giving each other glances of concern, moved out of the way giving me full view of the ancient, kingly figure whose hand was rasied in a gesture which marked him as the savior of my life. The figure's luminascent blue eyes gleamed at me. He gasped with surprise.
"You... I've seen you."
He moved into the flood of light so I could see his face. This time it was nearly my turn to gasp, but I held it in. I knew this guy. But from where? and why?
"Let me see your face..." He said soothingly, before gently cupping my chin in a fatherly way and using his other hand to tug me into the stream of light with him. His blue orbs seemed to sear into my very soul as they made contact with my green ones. I felt very... small... compared to this regal man. His eyes widened.
"You are the one from my dreams..." He stated while his hand slowly pulled away and dropped to his side. He looked down solmemly.
"Then the stars were right, and this is the day." Sadness rang in his voice as his eyes looked directly back into mine, resolution etched in them.
"Gods give me strength."
Gods? Stars? Normally, I'd say this guy is crazy, but I'm already busy questioning my own sanity right now. Plus he doesn't seem crazy. ugh! Why do I even care so much! I just want to know what the hell is going on!
"What's going on?" I asked, cutting to the chase.
"Assassins attacked my sons, and I am next. My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the enterance to that escape leads through your cell."
"B-Blades?" I asked dumbly. He nodded.
"My royal bodyguards. He turned and geustered to each of them. "They are Captain Renault, Baurus, and Glenroy." All of the guards looked horrifed and cringed as he introduced them.
"W-Who are you?" I studdered suddenly feeling a loss for intelligent words.
"I am the Emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You too, shall serve her in your own way... Might I ask for your name in return, young lady?"
"Uhhhhhh. I'm Nicole. Nicole Ballard." I stated, unsure if I should offer my hand to shake his or not. His hand grabbed the fringe of my ruined jeans jacket and he gave it a light pull as though testing its material. A curious look was written all over his face.
"And from what distant lands do you hail from, Nicole Ballard?"
"California. In the United States of America." I prayed he knew what I was talking about.
"hmmmmmm, certainly not of my Empire then. Perhaps from a different existence entirely." The guards looked confused and somewhat nervous as he said this.
Damn it. There's one more hope gone.
I sighed, depressed again. Oh yes, I definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore. The feeling of hopelessness made me want to lie down and literally just die. The Emperor took notice. I felt his hand rest on my forehead, feeling my fever, as he whispered strange words to himself. A blue light radiated from his hand and a cool, restorative sensation rushed through me.
I blinked, surprised. There was no more pain, no more churning stomach. I felt great. How the hell did he do that? He smiled at me, once again with that wise, fatherly look that made me feel so much like a child. His smile was short lived, however and disappeared quickly.
"Do not fear, Nicole. You will find your own path. Take care... There will be blood and death before the end."
Before I could ask the time of day, the woman, Renault, spoke up again.
"Please sire, we must keep moving" She pleaded before pulling on one of the chains to reveal a secret passageway. It was kinda cool.
"Better not close this one. There's no way to open it from the other side." She mumbled more to herself than the others.
The Emperor looked back at me and nodded. "Come." He ordered before walking into the darkness.
I stuffed my purse into my backpack (which I had dropped when Glenroy shoved me into the wall) before slinging it onto my back. Baurus paused before entering the narrow hallway and cast me a look of very slight amusement. "Looks like today is your lucky day, prisoner." Then he too entered the shadows. I paused, breathing heavily as I was weighing my options.
Oh wait. I remember now. I don't have any other options.
And with that I too followed the Emperor and his guards into the blackness.