Disclaimer: Only in my dreams.

A/N: I'm sorry about the unmarked brakes in the text. For some reason the document program is not working like it was. If anybody knows what that's about, could you let me know? Thanks!

The Sponsor was greeting Baurus coldly and Katryn moved quickly. She knocked an arrow and fixed it at the opposite doorway. The agents were craning their necks over the gate to watch the exchange below and Katryn wanted to thank them for that mistake. The arrow flew, finding its mark in one neck and she strung the next one before the body hit the floor. Although she was quick, she wasn't nearly quick enough. The second arrow also hit its target, but the man had had a chance to let out a cry. It was a cry that was cut short and did its job.

Below, the Sponsor raised his voice in fury and Katryn heard the slide of a blade being unsheathed. Not hesitating for a moment, she jumped to her feet and raced down the stairs. Baurus was holding his own, but the Dunmer fighting him was a skilled warrior and beating him back steadily. Katryn swung her sword and gashed at the back of his unprotected legs. He let out a cry of pain and turned to fight her, allowing Baurus to finish him off.

Katryn backed out of the way as the body slumped towards her and went still at her feet. She didn't look down at it and instead met Baurus' gaze. He was bleeding from his upper arm, just below his shoulder, but it didn't look serious.

"I am sorry, Baurus," She said, "I know you didn't want to be surprised, but there were two of them and I had to get rid of them with the bow."

"Better you than me," He replied with a grim nod, "I've never mastered archery and thanks."

He wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. Bending over the body, he retrieved a book and handed it to her. There was nothing else on the Dunmer that he wanted and he straightened.

"Come on, let's get out of here," He took up the torch again and removed the top of the lantern. It was relight within moments, "We need to get these books to Jauffre and I'm ready to get out of the city. It's getting harder and harder to work peacefully here."

The way out went much more easily than the way in and they hurried back to Luther's boarding house. Night was thick around them and the bar was quiet. Farven was half asleep behind his counter and didn't look twice at them as they went up the stairs to Baurus' room. Katryn helped him toss his belongings into a few different bags and she tucked the books into her own pack. They hefted the bags onto their shoulders and went back down the stairs. Baurus dropped a small pouch of money onto the counter and Farven didn't even open his eyes.

"Did you have a home here, Baurus?" Katryn asked as they left Luther's again.

He was quiet for a moment and the Elf thought maybe she had touched a tender subject.

"I did but the Mythic Dawn agents took care of that about two weeks ago. I was living at the palace then and with the emperor's death, I found it better to enter into a simpler way of life."

She nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It is hard losing a place that's important to you."

"Yes, it is," He replied briskly, "Jauffre's probably eager to get news. Let's keep moving."

He was right. Jauffre was still in the main hall, poring over a stack of books, when they arrived at Cloud Ruler well after two in the morning. He greeted them as warmly as possible for him and then immediately started drilling them with questions.

"What news, Coll?"

"Well, we've recovered all four volumes of the Mythic Dawn. Things were getting a little thick in the city though and I no longer felt safe there."

"Understandable," Jauffre replied, "Let me see the books."

Katryn opened her pack and retrieved the volumes. She extended them to the grandmaster and eyed him. Other than looking tired, he seemed at ease, calm, nothing like when she left.

"You look pleased," She observed, "Martin must have been convinced."

"He was, like I thought," Jauffre answered as he took the books and began flipping through the first one interestedly; "Ami and Naman had very little trouble persuading him."

"It would not be easy to believe everything you thought you knew was false," Katryn commented softly, "The fourth volume is in a form of Elvish. I couldn't see it very well in the dim light of the sewers but it looks like it's a fairly ancient script."

Jauffre frowned and opened the volume. His frown deepened as he saw that she was right. The dark brown eyes flickered up to the Elf's once more.

"Can you translate it?" He asked, making it sound more like a command.

She held out one slim hand and sat down across from the grandmaster after he relinquished it. Baurus moved to look over her shoulder as she studied it. The language was primitive, to say the least and most of the phrases were worded backwards, it seemed; but she could make out most of them.

"Yes, I think I could," She answered finally, "It would take some time, of course. This is a very old language; it's not easy to read the words sometimes, but it can be done."

"Good," The grandmaster said briskly, "Now, go get cleaned up and get some rest. You can get started on that tomorrow and Martin will study the others."

He spoke with finality and Katryn was all too happy to sleep. She stood and smiled at Baurus as she turned to leave.

"Good night."

"Good night, Gwynyth," He answered, "And thanks again."

The commander entered Camoran's chambers apprehensively. He had been summoned by a tearful, angry Ruma and he wondered what he possibly could have done wrong.

"You wished to speak to me, sir?" He asked softly, standing a safe distance from the desk and clasping his hands behind him.

"Yes, commander," Camoran replied. He finished writing and placed the quill back into the ink pot. Sitting back, he folded his arms across his chest and eyed Jorjoba coldly. If the Altmer did not have such a brilliant battle mind and wasn't an important asset to the cult, Camoran would make an example of him. As it was, he was going to have to settle for reprimanding the commander in private, "I wanted to inform you that you've gotten your wish."

Jorjoba's brows arched up and his slanted green eyes flickered with confusion.

"My wish, sir?" He repeated.

Camoran's red eyes gleamed with terrible brightness and his tenuous hold on his emotions snapped. He was on his feet and sweeping around his desk in a flash of red robes, moving in close enough to Jorjoba that the Altmer took an involuntary step back.

"My son is dead," He snapped, his thin, sallow face becoming ugly with rage, "And according to Ruma you told one of the agents that you wished him well in his paradise. Now, try to be honest with me. Did you send one of your men to do this?"

Jorjoba thought quickly. Camoran's power was succeeding in making him more and more paranoid. He was to the stage where he had appointed several of the agents to taste his food and wine for him. The commander hesitated a moment longer, knowing that he was going to have to tread very carefully to get out of this one.

"With all due respect, my lord, I must find fault with Lady Ruma's report," He began slowly and hurried on when Camoran's face darkened, "I am sorry about your son's death and I swear on my sword that I had no part in it. I had just received the news about the fatal mistake a man of mine made and I spoke without thinking."

"I have a hard time believing that after the Bravil fiasco," Camoran replied sharply, his countenance becoming even colder.

"Please, my lord, I meant no offense and if I may venture a guess, I would say that the Redguard Coll is involved with this. I shall personally seek him out and take care of him myself," He saw something flicker in the red eyes and the Dunmer's stance seemed to relax some, "The man has been a thorn in our side since the beginning and it would be more than an honor to dispatch him for you."

"You've tried and failed several times now, haven't you, commander?" Camoran's rage was becoming icy. He felt the death of his son acutely and he was not entirely convinced Jorjoba was telling the truth. He watched intently as a muscle in the Altmer's cheek clenched and his green eyes flashed briefly, "Perhaps this task is beyond your abilities."

"The men that I sent were fools," Jorjoba's voice was taut with suppressed anger, "All of their reports suggested that Coll was nothing more than a drunkard and they allowed that to cloud their judgement and drop their guard. It was something that I told them to never do and I wish them good riddance for it."

"And you believe my son deserved the same fate," It wasn't a question and Camoran knew exactly what he was asking for in baiting the commander so.

"Of course not, my lord," Jorjoba fought to keep his voice soothing, "I merely meant that I have to set up an example for my men. I intend to succeed where they have failed and prove to them that even the smallest mistake can be costly."

Camoran moved closer again and reached out to squeeze the commander's shoulder. Red eyes locked on green and the animosity between the Dunmer and Altmer could have been cut by a knife.

"For your sake, Antar," He said softly; dangerously, "I hope so."

Katryn was up and in the main hall before both Jauffre and Martin. Servants had already laid out platters of cheese, meats, and bread and there was coffee as well. She helped herself and moved to a table close to the fire. It was late summer and though it was delightfully warmer at the lower elevations, the Temple was high enough that there was an ever present chill in the air. Both that and her own body worked against the Elf. In Morrowind, it would have been much hotter and she never seemed to get as warm as she liked.

She sat down and focused her attention on the task before her. Placing her food and coffee to the side, she stacked the veritable mountain of parchment Jauffre had given her in front of her and also dug the three ink pots out of her pockets. The two fine feather quills came next and then she propped open the Mythic Dawn. She was not working long before she braided her hair out of the way in annoyance and rolled up the sleeves that kept dragging through the freshly written script.

Martin entered the hall hesitantly, not wishing the Blades present to make a fuss over him. The past two days had turned his life completely upside-down and still had him incredibly confused. He wasn't even sure who he was anymore and he had never before had trouble with being himself. So it was understandable that he wanted others to treat him as a normal man. To his relief the men and women simply nodded to him respectfully. He wandered over to the food laden table and fixed himself a plate. When he finished, he debated on returning to the little sitting room off of his bedroom where he had eaten the day before and then he spotted Katryn's slender form seated by the fire. Papers were spread before her and she was completely oblivious to the chattering conversations and bustling people all around her. He approached her table and saw that she was copying down whatever it was she was reading. Her already dark blue fingers were stained with black ink and her loose braid was allowing some shorter strands to tease her cheeks. She didn't see or hear him until he was right beside her and annoyance flashed in her eyes before she recognized him. Smiling, she stretched one arm across the table and swept away a pile of papers to clear a spot for him.

"Good morning," She greeted, "I was not sure whether to greet you with a bow or swear an oath to you on my sword."

Martin grinned at her and sat down. He missed her banter while she was gone. The Elf was the only one, save Jauffre, that treated him like an everyday man and not Cyrodiil's new emperor.

"I'm glad you did neither," He replied and glanced around at the Blades gathered, "This is all very..."

"Confusing?" She said helpfully when he trailed off.

"Maddening," He corrected with a sardonic smile, "I hated just making some of the decisions at Kvatch. I don't know how I plan to make it through this."

Katryn returned the smile, her fire colored eyes kind. Her fingers stroked the quill in her hand and she sought for the right words. She had never been very good with empathy and usually she ended up telling people to do it and get it over with. But that was the last thing that Martin needed to hear from her; it was all he got from Jauffre.

"It will come to you," She said finally, "No one ever believes they have leadership qualities until they find themselves forced into it. Just don't fall into the trap of allowing courtiers and diplomats to make decisions for you. That can end very badly for everyone involved."

Martin studied her suddenly somber face.

"You've seen instances of that," He wasn't asking her and he found himself wondering how old she really was. She didn't appear much older than him but he knew that Elves could live for one hundred and twenty years and not look a day over the human age of forty.

"About four or five too many," She answered, her voice was soft and sad and her eyes clearly revealed that her mind was far away from the present, "I'm ninety-seven and Morrowind has had several leaders foolish enough to allow others to deceive them; making them believe that peace was only possible through signing away the smaller provinces and allowing the common people to suffer and... Yes, I've seen it."

The priest looked at her intently. The beautiful red-orange eyes were fixed on a spot on the table and she was still lost in the past. He was curious about just how much she had seen and whether it had been her family that had suffered.

"I'm sorry, Katryn, I knew that Morrowind struggled in the past but it's hard to understand the depths when you seem so far away," He told her softly and she met his gaze again, "I'll do my best, I promise."

Her expression turned both enigmatic and amused. She dropped the quill into the ink pot and set one full page of writing aside to allow it to dry.

"Well, don't make any promises to me. I may not be here for all of your reign so it does not really matter, does it?"

Martin was happy to see her countenance change once more for the better. The gloomy, pessimistic attitude did not suit the calm Katryn. Never mind that most Dunmer aspired to portray themselves as harbingers of doom. She was an easier going and friendlier version of all the others and it was something he had grown used to seeing; something he liked seeing.

"I see you didn't waste any time," A quick, clipped voice observed.

Both of them glanced up to see Jauffre gazing at them with his usual serious intelligence. The dark brown eyes flickered over the table and took in the two full pages of Katryn's flowing hand. He was pleased with her progress and her determination. Picking up a sheaf of paper, he put it down farther away and seated himself.

"Is it as difficult as you thought it'd be?" He questioned, forgoing the return of their 'good mornings'.

"Actually it's older than I originally believed," Katryn answered, fingering the corner of the book's pages, "The only mishap that I've had is with the simplicity. I was making it too hard on myself earlier and overestimating how intellectual they were when they wrote it."

Jauffre nodded his head and then started on his breakfast.

"Good. So it shouldn't take you so long?"

The Elf arched her brows and lifted her slender shoulders. She knew that the grandmaster wouldn't be happy with waiting on her to finish and willing to do anything to speed the process.

"At the moment, it doesn't seem so," She replied and saw Baurus enter the room out of the corner of her eye, "But do not hold me to that. These things are never fool-proof."

She smiled at Baurus as the Redguard approached and greeted him warmly. Jauffre turned to do the same and introduced him to Martin. Katryn wished that she could have told him not to bow or make a fuss, but there seemed to be no need. Baurus clasped hands with the priest and bade him good morning before taking a seat beside Katryn.

"Is this our book?" He asked her, looking over her project.

"Yes, I'm trying to keep up my confidence in my own race," She answered and looked the book over again, "I was just telling these two that whoever wrote this was aiming for an ignorant audience."

Baurus grinned at the Elf's dry humor and clapped her on the back before standing to make his way over and get his breakfast.

"Don't lose heart, Kat," He told her, "Each race faces their own idiots and it's better to deal with it then fight it after you realize it's you."

He left the table quickly before Katryn could react and she satisfied herself with chucking a balled up piece of parchment at his head. It bounced off and fell harmlessly to the floor. Martin laughed genuinely and even Jauffre had to grin. The Elf muttered darkly under her breath as she turned her attention back to them.

"You should find something for him to do, Jauffre," She said, her eyes beginning to dance with amusement again.

"We'll see what happens," He answered, "Meanwhile you should continue to work on this and, Martin; the other books will need to be studied as well. We're losing time and we have to retrieve that amulet."

And just like that the friendly, playful air was gone. In its place was the very real, very disheartening reality that life as they knew it could be gone within a matter of a few months.