A/N: Sorry again for the wait between chapters. Just can't seem to get life to calm down for a bit. Promise the next chapter will be out sooner than the last couple took. In the meantime, hope you all enjoy this next chapter.
- E.K.

His eyes stung from the brightness of day when he awoke. Sionis reached up and felt for holes in the top of his head and finding none, looked around. He was in the swamps near the city of Morthal. In fact, after surveying his surroundings, he figured he must be pretty close to where he had found the entrance to Mephala's cave, but there was no sign of it. It was as if it had just vanished from the surface of Skyrim. Answering a strange compulsion, he pulled out his map and found that the crude shack drawing that had been there to mark Mephala's home was gone. Not even an indent or crease was evident to show where the mark had been.

Sionis again felt is head wondering just what "gift" Mephala had given before getting up and beginning the trek to Morthal to find a carriage driver to take him as close to Mistwatch Keep as he could get.

Sionis had used fair amount of his dwindling funds to buy a horse in Whiterun. The carriage driver had been willing to take him further on to Ivarstead and eventually to Riften beyond, but the delays were unacceptable to him; not when he was this close. Either town would have been closer to his ultimate goal of Mistwatch, but the carriage driver explained that he would be stopping at least a day in each place to make sure his horse remained in good shape and that he had enough supplies.

Those waits would have been unbearable for the vengeance driven mage so he had bought a horse and had nearly killed the poor beast pushing it to get to Mistwatch as quickly as possible.

And now here he was. He stood in front of an archway that served as the only entrance through the wall that surrounded the keep. On either side of it were two towers though the one to his left was broken and had fallen into ruin some time ago. Beyond the courtyard on the other side of the archway stood three more towers bunched together forming a triangle towards the far side of the keep. Each one of these was taller than the last with expansive balconies providing access from one to the other. It was all designed in such a way that one would have to work their way through the each of the shorter towers in order to get to the highest one.

He had to take a moment to push down the rage threatening to boil over as he stared at the archway leading to the walled courtyard. The hesitation nearly cost him his life as an unseen archer took aim and fired an arrow. It would've ended his quest, but a moment before his unknown assailant fired, Sionis was pushed by what felt like a concentrated gust of wind against his back. It was forceful enough to cause him to stumble a bit as the arrow whistled by his ear, just missing him.

"My last gift to you my magically delectable morsel." He heard an alluring yet grating voice in his head. "Do enjoy yourself as you strike them down."

Sionis quickly turned and retaliated. He pulled upon his connection to Aetherius and fired an ice shard at the archer standing at the crenellations near the archway – and missed. The freezing spike's trajectory was too low and it was certain to crash and shatter harmlessly against the stone of the keep's outer wall. But that wasn't what happened.

He noticed that the shard was quite larger than he had intended, but that wasn't the only unexpected result of his casting. A split second later, the ice crashed not into, but rather through the stone crenellation, blasting the top most part of the wall to thousands of pieces of rock. The shrapnel from the rock and ice slammed into the archer causing him to tumble backwards over the far ledge to his death in the courtyard below.

Sionis looked at the palm of his hand in disbelief, dumbstruck by the sheer power of what he had just unleashed. It was then he thought he heard a rather mischievous laughter echo through his mind.

"Have fun!" The voice chimed in his head.

"Mephala." He whispered to himself astonished. "This is the gift you spoke of?" His only answer was more of her laughter ringing through is mind.

Shouts of alarm interrupted his contemplation. The explosion of ice and stone was sure to have alerted any other guards milling around the exterior and now they came running towards him. As they rounded the archway and came into view, Sionis cast again.

Lightning shot from his hand, arching unerringly toward the first of the attackers. It blasted clean through his chest before jumping to the next in line. The first of the stricken men slumped forward to his knees with a fist sized hole in his chest before falling face first to the ground. The three others behind him died in similar fashion as the chain lightning jumped to each of them in turn. The mage couldn't help a boyish giggle escape his lips.

He strode almost arrogantly into the outer court of the keep and stopped a moment to admire his handiwork with the initial archer he'd taken down – along with a chunk outer wall – with the massive ice spike. He once again looked down at his own hands in disbelief at the sheer destructive force that he'd unleashed. He was amazed. Would there be any foe he couldn't kill? Anything he couldn't overcome now?

His contemplations were interrupted by a distorted crack and a flash of black and purple energy that swirled around the twisted, frost-ridden corpse of the archer before disappearing into the body. A moment later the dead bowman stirred and began to rise.

The corpse had gashes and other wounds all over its face and upper body from the exploded stone crenellation. There were even some rock shrapnel embedded in a few places. The creature didn't lurch at him as most reanimations would, but rather grabbed a blade from the sheath on his hip and slashed at him.

The mage quickly backed away well beyond the reach of the undead thug before raising his hands in a gout of fire. Just like the first two spells he had evoked, this one was greatly magnified in power. He winced at how bright the blaze was. When he relinquished it, there was nothing but ashes left of the raised corpse.

Sionis knew now that Mephala hadn't led him astray. The sheer power and unnatural life-likeness of the automaton were uncannily similar to what had been done to Clairiss when he had found her. Multiple bursts of the same distorted cracking noises alerted him that the other guards were now being raised as well. Anger welled up within has he realized how close he was to avenging his sister. The only thing that stood between him and righteous justice were these non-living zombies. He raised both hands and called more fire. The resulting inferno incinerated the four newly raised corpses of the other guards.

As he strode confidently to the door to the keep, smiling at the thought of how easily his vengeance was about to be meted out, he wasn't so sure he regretted the deal he had made with The Lady of Whispers.

Inside, he met with surprisingly little resistance, though any he did find had to be killed twice just like his encounter with the bandit-guards outside. He used ice magic almost exclusively. He didn't want to start a fire and potentially kill the mage responsible before he could get to him. Sionis wanted to have a conversation with him first. It was likely to be a rather painful conversation for them both.

Sable ducked under the swing of one the creatures, swiping one of her fine elven dagger through its spindly arm as she rose up on the other side. It hissed in pain and rage as its severed arm fell to the ground. In its madness, the monstrosity rushed her fiercely and wildly. At the last possible moment before it struck, she spun down into a crouch and kicked one leg out, sweeping its feet out from under it. With it on the ground, it had no chance as both of her blades flashed by its neck, opening its throat. It let out a couple of hideous gasps before it disintegrated into nothingness.

Besides her, Nazir had just finished dealing with the last one. A powerful stroke from his great scimitar sent his creature's head flying free from its shoulders. It never hit the ground as both it and the body also, vanished and was gone.

The creatures had been showing up at the Sanctuary almost daily for the last week. They could never get in – the Black Door ensured that – but it had now become a daily ritual of going out and purging the area of the creatures. They ranged in color from light grey to almost black with red markings on the tips of the spikes that protruded from their arms and backs and down their tails. They were rather gaunt, but she wouldn't quite describe them as emaciated. Despite that, they were discovered to be quite strong and dangerous. They all had three long clawed fingers on each hand and several tusk-like teeth protruding straight out of their mouths forcing it into a grotesque circular shape.

"What are these things?" Sable asked exasperated from the daily fights.

"I know not, sister." The redgaurd replied, his deep voice showing signs of frustration as well. "But perhaps if we can find out, we can find out where they come from and eliminate them for good." He paused, cleaning his curved sword with a cloth and sheathing it before continuing. "Astrid has sent a message to Festus to recall him back to the Sanctuary. Perhaps our resident expert on everything can shed some light on this daily plague."

The white-haired assassin nodded her assent with a smile at her brother's sarcasm before heading back into the Sanctuary. In the time since she had parted from Sionis, she had thrown herself into her training. Aside from it helping to take her mind off of him, she figured it would only help her in her quest to best Arkay, to overcome the power death itself held over her. She had stopped trying to convince Babette to turn her into a vampire. The forever child seemed to have a rather tainted view on what been gifted her and Sable didn't want to damage their friendship over it.

So she had taken surprisingly few assignments. Instead she spent nearly all her time with any of the Family that would spar with her. Desiring to hone her fighting skills to the finest, deadliest edge possible. She had realized that in her desire to prove herself above the God of Life and Death, she had become reckless. She had purposely taken unnecessary risks to put herself in potentially life-threatening situations just to see if she could best them. And while it had perhaps made her more resourceful and a better fighter with her blades, it had nearly killed at least three times.

Sable and Astrid had held a somewhat spirited debate about her actions after hearing Delvin's favor. While they agreed that she was right to hit the stash-house in Riften immediately, Astrid was of the opinion that she should waited for help before assaulting Cragslane Cavern. Sable insisted that there hadn't been the time. She asserted that the element of surprise was too important and defended her position citing that she had inside information from the mage that had joined her. In the end, they had ended up agreeing to disagree about the strategy Sable had taken. However, they both agreed that Sable had become too reckless; there was no need to give Arkay a handicap. Like always, Astrid seemed to hold no ill will or disrespect towards her young protégé. She had expressed other assassins had similar experiences or thoughts and that they should be used to learn and improve oneself.

And with that realization, Sable had spent nearly all her time training her skills; even taking up archery so she could have the advantage in just about any situation she faced. It was a few weeks later when the strange creatures had begun to show up outside the sanctuary. Veezara had been the first to encounter them. The Shadowscale had almost been taken unaware and, fortunately, there had only been one of the creatures that first day. Afterwards, they had started showing up in groups and the Family had started a rotation for who would go out in pairs and see about clearing them out. Sable made sure she was out there every day. Not only did it provide some additional training, she just felt it had something to do with Sionis' quest for justice for his sister and she owed him whatever help she could provide.

Barely being able to keep his rage from overwhelming him, Sionis ran across the upper balcony of Mistwatch Keep to the door of the final tower. A moment later, he magically ripped it right out of the stone and threw it away into one of the many hot springs surrounding the keep far below. The beleaguered mage stepped scornfully into the tower. Thanks to Mephala's dramatic amplification of his power, this mage wouldn't stand a chance against him. He would suffer and Clairiss could finally rest peacefully.

He ran up the last spiral staircase into the top room. To his surprise, nothing happened. There were no defensive traps set up. No attacks greeted him. In fact, there was no greeting at all. The mage he had sought for so long took no notice of him. The obliviousness of the mage caused Sionis to pause. He took in his unaware adversary.

He was an altmer; a tall one. It looked as if his hair had once been lustrous, but now hung in dirty unattended clumps. His once proud Thalmor robes were now worn and tattered. He raised his hands in flourishes as he muttered to himself revealing bone thin and splotched fingers. As he gazed at the evidence of malnourishment and lack of personal upkeep, Sionis began to wonder about the answer he was given by The Webspinner. This mage didn't seem to be in full possession of his faculties.

Sionis just stood there watching. He had played out this moment so many times in his head as he had searched for the one responsible for so blaspheming the spirit of his sister and with it being nothing like what he'd imagined, he wasn't sure how to proceed. What was he supposed to do with this? Was it some cruel trick of Mephala? But if it was, why would she gift him with such power?

And so he just stood there watching; trying to make up his mind on whether he would stay and confront the man, or just go and try to figure out what to do with the rest of his life. He almost turned and left the room several times, but just couldn't do it, always turning back to stare and try to sort out what he should do. He was about to speak up and finally make his presence known, when the high elf noticed him.

"Ah, I see I have a visitor." The former Thalmor stated with a calm even voice tinged with excitement at having company. He eyes were golden yellow and looked thoughtful. "And a fellow wizard at that. Do come in."

Sionis stepped further into the room. He'd never conversed with a crazy person before and so far it hadn't been what he expected. Weren't the insane supposed to have that wild "I'm crazy" look to their eyes and talk in such a way that just seemed more insane? Perhaps he wasn't crazy after all and there was some other explanation for his lack of personal care.

"And what I can help you with, my dear young man?" The elf asked.

"Well," Sionis began having no idea what to say. This was nothing like how it was supposed to go. There was supposed to be a confrontation, followed by a battle of spellcasting ending with him standing victorious and knowing Clairiss' soul was finally at peace. This was so civil that it was disconcerting.

For his part, the altmer stood patiently with a kindly look on his face, waiting for Sionis to gather his thoughts and eventually break past his confusion.

"I guess I'm looking for a mage quite powerful in conjuration," the dirty blonde mage finally stated, "specifically with reanimation."

"Ah, you've come to the right place then." The high elf said with a flourish, his countenance lighting up. "There is none greater at bringing order to our wretched world than I, Mala Aran Naga."

"Bringing order?" Sionis mused. "How are you putting the world into order?"

"By bestowing the gift of everlasting death!" The older mage stated enthusiastically. "I have the power to permanently raise those fallen."

"And how does that make them better?" Sionis questioned unable to keep the incredulity from his voice.

"How does it not?" the altmer replied. "They are freed from the shackles of thought. They no longer possess their free will. The burden of making their own decisions is gone. They only serve, and do so unerringly. What could be better for them? And once all living creatures are put under the glorious state of perpetual death our world can finally be perfect. Free from war. Free from heinous crime. Free from hunger and pestilence and sadness and pain! By the Divines, it will be beautiful!"

"If all are brought to this new way of existence, how would they know what to do? Whom would they serve?" The dark-eyed mage questioned.

"That," the ex-Thalmor replied with true sorrow filling his voice and eyes, "is the only sadness in my endeavor. There would have to one remain living in order to ensure the perfection of this new world would continue. And sadly, it will be my burden to carry as I would not put the mantle of suffering life on anyone else. I think that's how he wanted it."

"How who wanted it?" the younger mage asked.

"The prince." The altmer replied. "He is the over-thrower. He not only helped me see the vision of a world brought to order and perfection, but he also gave me the power to carry it out. The only thing my master asked in return was that I help him through the gauntlet and that I remain living to guide the pristine new world of the non-living."

Sionis balked. His original assessment of the elf returned in full. This one was over the moons crazy. He knew the conversation should end and he should kill the lunatic, but he couldn't help continuing.

"What about happiness and joy? What about mercy and compassion? What about … love?" Sionis found it odd that his thoughts raced momentarily to Sable with the last question, but he pushed it aside and continued. "Surely the world would be a much darker place without them. How could you claim perfection without those being shared by everyone?"

"Lies!" The altmer shot back forcefully, his voice strained with loathing. "They are nothing but lies. Happiness only serves to lead one to sorrow. Mercy! Compassion!" He was shouting now. "They only cover the true motivations of pride and self-gratification of those that wield them. And love!? If you ever want to see true pain, just look to love. Misery is all that the disgusting ideal of love provides!"

The words were so twisted, so vile and revolting that Sionis couldn't keep the look of horror from his face.

"You don't see it, do you?" The altmer chided. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. No one yet has had the sagacity to share the marvelous vision of what Tamriel could be. Shame that clarity will only come to you once I have given you eternal death. Much like the young maid that had the privilege of being the first. She only had her eyes opened once they were closed."

"Young maid?" Sionis felt his rage kindling back to life as he heard that last part. He knew to whom the altmer was referring, but had to ask. He had to hear it.

"Such a pretty young girl I made her." Mala Aran Naga answered. "She sat crying in the den of some skooma peddlers when I set her free."

That was what Sionis had to hear. There was no doubt that this mage was the one who had desecrated Clairiss. There was no doubt that this mage had to die.

Sionis acted without warning and hit the former Thalmor with a paralysis spell. The altmer dropped to the ground in a crumpled mess. Sionis leaned over him and began to pull the high elf's face up. He wanted the madman to see the end of his life and be helpless against it. Something told him it had been the same for Clairiss. But before he could ready a killing spell, a sound off to his side caught the dark-eyed mage's attention.

The dremora lord rushed at him with its greatsword readied. More noise behind him told Sionis that there were more that he had not initially noticed and that his attack on their master had roused them from their waiting places in the shadows.

In the split second he had, Sionis cast Ironflesh upon himself. The next moment the dremora charging him swung his massive blade into his stomach. The force of the blow threw him several feet back. As he hit the ground with a loud grunt, the blonde mage found himself thanking Mephala again (much to his chagrin). Ironflesh did provide good protection, but it normally wouldn't have withstood an attack like the one he just had. But with the amplification provided from the Lady of Whisper's gift, it hadn't even rent his mage robes. Even so, his ribcage screamed as he drew breath and stood to face his attackers.

There were three dremora lords staring him down. All in Daedric armor and holding terrifying spiked greatswords. Somehow, he had to deal with them before the effects of his paralysis spell wore off of the high elf. Normally one had a matter of seconds, but with his daedric gifting how long did he have? A few minutes? He hoped to not have to find out. The altmer was obviously beyond the skill of a normal conjuror. Most could only bind one such creature to them. Masters could sometimes bind two. Three was unheard of.

As they were beings from Oblivion, it was likely they would be innately resistant to fire and shock spells so he would have to take them down using ice and frost magic. Definitely not his strong suit, but he figured that Mephala had made up that ground for him.

As the middle dremora advanced, the others began to spread out to flank him and close him in a trap. Seizing the advantage of their slowed movements, Sionis called to his magicka and flung an ice spike at the dremora directly in front of him. It was not completely taken by surprise and barely managed to duck out of the way. The giant shard of ice shot past it in and slammed into the wall on the far side of the tower causing a sliver of rock the size of his torso to splinter off and fall to the ground.

All three of the dremora paused their attack to take in the sheer power the human mage had just displayed. As the shard from the tower wall clattered to the ground breaking into several pieces, Sionis took advantage of his opponents' astonishment, and hurled another ice spike. This one caught the dremora in front of him in the chest as it turning back to face him. The dremora was lifted from the ground and carried several feet through the air. Its body dissolved into nothingness just after it crashed back to the floor.

The remaining two charged him suddenly and the Ironflesh spell again saved him. The mage backpedaled as he cast another ice spikes towards the one on his left. It just clipped the creature's shoulder, but was enough to send it spinning to the ground. But there was not enough time or room to counter the other coming in at his right.

The dremora brought its greatsword down into his shoulder. The protective spell still held and prevented him from losing his arm, but the force of the blow knocked him flat on his stomach. Despite the pain screaming from his shoulder, Sionis kept the presence of mind to move and managed to roll away. There was a loud clang as the dremora's blade struck the stone floor. The mage scrambled away lamely as his right arm was completely numb and useless and he gasped uncontrollably as the pain racked through him threatening to take his consciousness.

As he gained his feet, the dark-eyed mage blindly cast a third ice spike behind him hoping that by some blessing of the Divines he hit the dremora. There was no such blessing. The cone of ice missed by a wide margin and ended up spraying stone fragments from the wall to the floor below.

By now the other dremora was back up and moving to cut off his frantic retreat. As the two daedric creatures began to trap him again, Sionis desperately tried to think of some way out of the two dremora lords eventually hacking him into pieces. Just then, he heard a groan and looked over to see the high elf begin to stir. The paralysis spell was beginning to wear off. That's when he decided that the ice spikes just weren't going to get him out alive. It was time to cast a bigger spell. But it had to be timed just right.

Acting on sheer panic alone, Sionis spun around as he threw himself forward. When he had spun back around to his face his attackers, he cast an ice storm from his left hand back into his dremora's faces. The white orb was much larger than he'd ever seen it before. It was nearly the dremora's height in diameter and it caught both of them in its chilling sphere. It was so frigid, it nearly froze the fiends solid in its wake. The momentum of their charge couldn't be stopped and they broke into pieces before their forms swirled out of existence.

The air was driven from his lungs as Sionis landed with a thud, but there was no resting as he looked up to see the ex-Thalmor just gaining his feet, shaking off the last of the paralysis' spells effects. Adrenaline surged through him anew from his loathing of what the mad altmer had done to his sister. Screaming with a fury that ripped through his entire being, Sionis charged into Mala Aran Naga, tackling him to the ground. The high elf grunted from the landing, but didn't get a change to recover. Sionis began punching the elf as hard as he could with the hand that still worked.

"This is for Clairiss, you crazy bastard!" The blonde mage cried he slammed his fist again and again into the altmer's face.

With no response forthcoming, Sionis grabbed a handful of the high elf's hair and began pounding his head into the stone floor. Over and over again he beat the elf's head against the ground until a loud sharp crack finally stopped him. He looked and saw blood begin to rapidly pool out from around Mala Aran Naga's head. The vengeance he had sought for so long had been met. The desecrator of his beloved sister was dead.

And yet, there was no feeling of triumph or cry of victory or smile. He only felt weariness. It came crashing over him and he had never felt so heavy in all his life. In what should have been a liberating moment for both him and the spirit of his sister, the blonde man felt burdened nearly to his breaking point. Against his will, a few sobs broke forth from him. Strangely enough they weren't from the joy of avenging Clairiss. Instead they felt more like a panic threatening to take him.

Suddenly, a word blasted into his thoughts. The panic was gone, obliterated by the single word. A word spoken by the dead altmer mage. And with it, his focus shifted and his will was renewed. The elf had mentioned it. The elf had mentioned a "master".

It wasn't over. The altmer was certainly the one to have killed Clairiss and so blasphemed her soul, but he had been given the ability to do so from someone else. Once again there was yet one more step to climb; one more dark corner to look into.

At first this revelation was very tiring. Hadn't he been through enough? But then the exhaustion and anguish was swallowed by something else; a steel resolve. He was now determined to find everyone wrapped up in Naga's lunacy and punish them. Clairiss' killer may have been dead and her soul at peace, but there was at least one other that had created Mala Aran Naga and that one needed to be punished. And if there were any more beyond, they would be punished too. He would punish all of Tamriel if he had to.