My Mother was gifted with the light at a very young age. It took me a long time to realize that darkness too is a gift.

Chapter 48: Crows Love To Murder and Ravens Are Unkind

'Your Revolution.' Monsotar stood over me. 'That is not what your mother wanted. It won't do.'

'I won't die until it is realized.'

'Well, then…'

I stood; my sword gripped tightly in hand. Monsotar came in with his own. I moved quickly, but the heat of his blade slashed across my shoulder. Crippling heat seared through my body; I could only scream. Biting down on the pain, I managed to kick Monsotar as hard as I could. He careened into the long table. I sliced through the air with a concentrated blast of Ghost Flame. Monsotar twirled and corrected himself midair cutting through the violet flame with his sword. He was fast. I rallied to meet him head-on as he landed and charged. Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. The sword song of our battle sung beautiful harmonies throughout the tree. This battle; this fight; is what it has all boiled down to.

As a little girl, I looked up towards the starry sky on those clear nights. The twilight painted tapestry of the world gave me wonder of floating between them as a free soul. Like the little blackbird of the night. I have forced my body to its limits and beyond. My muscles grew, my agility improved, and my mind expanded. I surpassed Mother, Father, and Tutor Rollyn. If not in skill then in fortitude. I was once a shadow oppressed by a light that could not be contained. Now I was free to roam the darkness as I had seen fit.

The fire burned at every corner of the dwindling chamber. The fight grew more intense as any surface intact tightened to only a small circle where our swords hadn't carved or burned. This was it; I could feel it deep down in my bones. The spirits of Aetherius called down to us from above. This sword of mine carried all the hopes and dreams of my brothers and my friends, and even those that have given their lives to see this Bosmer dead. Those from the Royal Tribes that Elren tried to save, from the lives of every commoner that felt the oppression of the Thalmor up to Treethanes that hold the blood of King Eplear Camoran. And my brother, Milkar, who had set my soul ablaze with an unending flame meant to burn away all that stood in my way. For my mother that wanted to save her home but was captured by the heavy cage of a mother's love; to restricting that she needed to die to cast her blinding light on us all.

When a star dies, it leaves the rest of us blinded but eventually the darkness comes and all that's left is shadow. How Ara High-Arrow, my mother, a wife to Faeden Lockharte, the hero of Valenwood knew what must be done is testament to Tamriel's ability to detect evil and destroy it. This was not her fight… It was mine.

Monsotar finally got the upper hand. With a powerful swing, his flaming sword cut clean across my chest. The sheer pressure of fire sent me sprawling across the ground. I hadn't noticed the heat before, sapping my strength and eating away at my wounds. It was so unbearably hot. Sweat streamed over my face; a searing pain lined over my body. My very limbs down to the tips of my toes felt as if they were on fire. Monsotar's eyes glowed in the contrast of the sun's light and through the half-light of the Ghost Flame.

'There are still so many truths that you do not know, Leila Lockharte.' Monsotar's aura became dense and insufferable. He was a soul deprived of the love, filled with unbridled hate for all the wrongs done to him; such power made him strong. It carried him this far.

It is that power absent of love that became reckless and abusive.

'I know,' I said, solemnly. 'I know that there are secrets that have yet to reveal itself. Like roots of a shimmering tree somewhere deep in these forests. But the important thing about that is to never become ensnared. Like you have, Monsotar. You and I are one and the same, as you've repeated. You trained under my mother, you were supposed to be the one that inherited her virtue, her power, and the path that leads us through the twilight when her light dulled upon this world. But you failed, Monsotar. You failed…'

Monsotar eyes narrowed, not in contempt, but to show a deeper side of the twisted soul he has become. 'We believe the same thing, Leila…' his lips curled, 'if not me, then who?'

'Me.'

I waved my hand over my vision to disrupt a speculated illusion. This was no trick of the mind. Within the deep recesses of my mind, I knew the time was right. It was a plan hatched since announcing my revolution. I have been shoved, and I've shoved back. She was like my dream of ripping my page of history out of the book of Auriel—a power that can erase the very thought of someone. A member of my new family that no one could remember nor sense. That was her curse—or gift—from the dark Prince she worships. She has been with me all this time, standing in the dark corners of our minds, laying in wait for my command. She has stepped in battle more times than I could count, but her manipulation of our thoughts causes us to forget her presence instantly. She was a child of Nocturnal used for purposes of assassination and theft.

Sul leaped over the fiery walls that enclosed on us. Her bare feet made no sound as she landed. She moved as swift as a gust of air, running with the glare of a small sword the length of a forearm. It took every mental ability I have within me to keep her at the center of my vision. Even as she neared Monsotar, I wanted to forget her, to erase her from my memory. Her power was known as Erasure. A type of memory manipulation that causes one to suppress memories of her existence and sway people's focus. One moment you see her, and the next, you're wondering what it was you were looking at. Even if she never left your sight. It took a strong mind to see her and keep her there in thought. Unfortunately, Monsotar was bull-minded.

He turned to see Sul charging at him with her sword stretched to her side, ready to strike. His eyes widened as he tried to withdraw. It was too late. Sul's sword bit into his undefended side, cutting through his flesh and exiting from his belly. Blood splattered in all directions, showering us in crimson red. Monsotar collapsed to his knees. It wasn't an instant death like I wanted, it couldn't have been—he was too strong for that. Sul skidded to halt, unsure of what's to come next. I recovered, shifting the focus from Monsotar's faltering body to Sul. 'Leave!' I managed to bark as her ability threatened to erase herself from my memory. She turned to me. I blanked, straining to remember her name.

"Raven." I opened my eyes as Sul approached me 'Raven,' she said. Her voice was so soft, almost dreamlike.

A hand press over my wound.

'Sul,' I returned her stare. 'Sul,' I repeated as if her name tasted weird on the tongue. I grabbed her hand and it came away bloody. 'Blood,' I said.

'I'm here, Raven.' Someone's voice said.

'Yes,' I nodded; my thoughts started freezing in their place. 'Sul, re—retreat.'

'Yes, Sul.' Monsotar stood. Steam escaped where a wound should've left his entrails pouring out onto the floor. He faltered in his stance. He was weak and dying but still alive. His wound was cauterized 'You better fucking retreat because I'm gonna rip your heart out and shove it down Leila's throat.'

Sul stepped back, her throat bobbing up and down. I pushed her away further. I knew the faster she disappeared, the faster no one will remember she was here. Not even the only two people that saw her.

'I must say… You—' Monsotar's body gave way, and he fell again, this time, blood spewed from his mouth. He might have cauterized the wound, but it only bought him a few moments. 'You got the jump on me.' The pain was all too apparent; and gratifying. 'I don't… mind if I die here. But… I know the person you… plan to replace me with…he'll falter in his path… harder than I have.'

'You don't know that, Monsotar.' I allowed Sul to escape my mind. 'Milkar has love. For us, for me, for Valenwood.'

'And… it was love that became the fertile ground for the emergence of my hate. Love for Ara High-Arrow… for her dream.' He could barely move; his voice wavered; he limped. 'What will you do if you fail?'

I simply shrugged. 'Rogues… they just move on, I suppose.'

Fires sprouted from Goldfire. The intensity of its power reached a maximum output of the likes I've never seen nor felt before. Monsotar's eyes broke from a serene green and took on a yellow-red tint. I stared into the eyes not of a mortal soul but that of a demon. Goldfire's enchantment had fully taken him over now. The golden flames immersed itself with his essence, traveling up his arm, ripping across his chest and back. The skin on his face began to bubble and peel away as the conflagration burst from fissures crossing his face. Overbearing heat nearly beat me back down to the ground. Hot winds began to twirl and cyclone through the tree. The Iron-Bark sparked with a flash, becoming char in the blink of an eye. Ghost Flame's protection kept me from meeting the same fate as the tree.

My wounds were deep. The loss of blood was severe. But this was my last stand. The only chance to kill Monsotar. I held Nocturnal's Talon out to my side. Vibrations of power throbbed in my hand. A long time ago, a hidden power seeped out of this sword. Before I knew it, I used it to kill a hundred soldiers and turn them instantly to ash. That power called on me again. And I brought it forth once more.

The Ghost Flame wasn't actually a flame. Our minds perceived it as such. In fact, it is the essence that made up the realm of Oblivion. When wielded by Daedric Princes, it creates their realms of existence. When wielded by my mother, it created an ethereal, violet flame. This sword was merely a conduit to that cold material, so what if I allowed my soul to transform it into something different; to force it to fuse with my own darkness. My sword began to rumble. Pouring my own essence within the sword itself, a sort of reaction began to grip the blade. The Ghost Flame flared sporadically as if adding grease to a campfire. The blade began to eat the flame, collapsing itself and becoming a dark void of sheer blackness. Like opposite a star, Nocturnal's Talon became nothing more than a blankness against the world. A dark hole that had no reflection and ate all light. Tendrils of black flames exploded in all directions, landing upon the golden flames that threaten to burn us all. It was as if shadow itself were in the shape of a fire. This Shadow Flame consumed all other fire until nothing but darkness remained.

Monsotar stood across from me. We peered into each other's souls. He understood that Nocturnal's Talon had transformed. I raised my black flaming sword and dissected him in my vision.

No words were spoken. There was nothing that needed to be said.

Through our hurting bodies; through our understanding of each other; through all the pain we have endured getting to this point, we pushed ourselves onto the Void's edge…and jumped.

Monsotar smiled just before our clash.

I reached in for the killing blow and felt no resistance even as Nocturnal's Talon lunged through Monsotar's body. There wasn't any resistance because Monsotar never raised his sword. Goldfire clattered onto the floor. I soaked in his expression as my sword ran across his body.

'This…' the black flames began to eat him. '…is only the beginning—'

A heavy gust blew through the Graht-Oak, picking up Monsotar's ashes and carrying it into the air. The leader of the Thieves of the Wood was gone.

Centaurcrass was nothing more than a crater left in the wake of the battle. I braced myself against a toppled snag and shed the remains of my leather plate body. Blood slowly trickled from the gash across my chest. My wounds weren't grave, so I'd live, but they still burned like Oblivion. These deep cuts will scar and leave permanent reminders of the day. Whatever was left of the chamber was blackened char. The heartwood walls no longer existed, the ceiling gone, and the ground was unstable, breaking in some places. The wide-open crevice above me filtered in the morning sunlight—or was it afternoon sunlight? Time had eluded me.

I slowly unbuckled my vambraces and gave a sigh of relief when the restriction let loose from my wrists. A cool breeze passed through, cooling my sweat slickened body. I took a deep breath. I felt lighter.

'Leila.' A soft voice entered my ears.

I opened my eyes, not realizing I'd fallen asleep. 'Elren,' I said, smiling. He smiled down on me. I took his face in my hand and cradled his chin softly.

'You hurt?' He inquired, his eyes scanning over my body.

'It's not bad. I'll live.' I said, hopeful.

He nodded.

'Woohoo!' A boisterous laugh. 'See, Gwenny? I told you we would win!'

'Go slug yourself, Aranwen,' Gwendalyn barked. 'We got lucky, and you know it.'

'No need to be a spoiled sport. This was no luck, but the hard work of a powerhouse.' Aranwen stepped beside me, his face so bright and inviting. 'Isn't that right…Leila?' Tears came to my brother's eyes.

I finally sat up, earning a scold from Elren to stay put. But there was so much more to do, plenty of goodbyes to say. My journey wasn't ending here, my mission incomplete. I patted Elren's hand and stood up. These wounds were nothing compared to the trauma the people around me had experienced. I didn't want to be seen as their hero, but as just another elf doing her part.

That's all it boiled down to. I was merely doing my part that I promised for what seemed like an eternity ago.

Milkar climbed his way into the crater. He looked over every corner and scanned every inch of the blackened, charred walls. Or at least, what was left of it. Before he settled before me, he picked up Goldfire. The sword was still a dazzling spectacle of furious beauty. We watched him move towards the center and plunged the blade into a splinter lining of ground.

'You're not taking it?' I asked.

'No reason to,' he answered. 'It's still a danger. Not just to us, but to everyone in this province.'

Milkar gave one of those shrugs that showed that he didn't really care. 'If ever anyone takes it up again then we still have you, sister.'

I gave him a half-smile. I liked that answer.

Outside, whatever forces were left of Thieves of the Wood had either retreated or turned themselves in. Droves of Nightblades lined the roots of the once strong Centaurcrass. The sky was darkened by ash clouds, but the fallout had already dispensed its grey swirl upon the grove. This war-torn blotch of the forest will grow back within the decade, such is the fertility of Valenwood.

Knowing my brothers, they'll use the survivors to rebuild the Silver Crescents. Many would follow Rindiel for his longevity as Monsotar's right-hand man, and many wanted the prosperity of their home. Valenwood was yet to be safe, however. The Tam'Akar would show up with a stronger force the next time around. It dawned on me that Aridiil's team was only a five-man cell tasked to search for Mother's power. In its entirety, their true intentions as a whole were to oppress anyone who didn't believe in the cause of the Aldmeri Dominion. Elites like Aridiil and powerful younglings like Liemo exist in numbers across the army of inquisitors. My only choice was to be ready for them when they came.

'I could already tell you aren't coming back to Shimmer Root with us,' Milkar said.

'We have grown into different paths, brother,' I told him. 'Monsotar was only one issue to deal with.'

'You're not coming home?' Aranwen exclaimed the question. 'Leila…'

'I'm sorry, Aranwen.' I placed a hand on my brother's shoulder. 'You'll see me around.'

Aranwen sulked and sighed. 'Why do I get the feeling that isn't true.'

'There's one issue we are forgetting,' Esmond pointed out. We all looked at him. 'The boy.'

I'd completely forgotten about Monsotar's son. The last time I saw him was right before our fight with his father. And now that Monsotar was dead, he was nowhere to be found. It was highly doubtful he stuck around as Centaurcrass was devoured by the fires we created. He wasn't out here either.

'Did he escape?' I asked.

Esmond lifted his shoulders. 'He might be innocent now, but that type of trauma after today can transform a person. He could be an issue in the years to come.'

'It doesn't matter what might happen in the future. We've no choice but to leave him be for now.' Milkar looked across the decimated grove. 'When the time comes, if that time comes, we'll be ready for him.'

Esmond folded his arms over his chest and raised his shoulders. 'We should at least keep track of him. He is a plot of clay easily molded at this point. Anyone could take him in and turn his sword towards us. He'll be a problem if he's trained well enough.'

Despite worrying about the assumptions of the future, there was still much to do. The Royal Tribes that helped us on the battlefield gathered on the far corner of the grove. Now that Monsotar was dead, the spell that held Chief Gleril's mind must have been removed. The Raw Tooth will prosper again and for that, I was glad.

Elren, who was still at my side, didn't say anything for the longest while. He too had a mass of people that relied on him. The survivors of his clan, the Rovseed, needed his leadership. I turned to him. This boy could never show any outward emotion, and it was up to me to ask.

'I suppose you must stay?' I asked Elren.

His dark brown eyes met mine. 'You wanted me to go with you?'

'I would've liked that, you know.'

He shook his head. 'I can't.' He turned to our friends. 'They'll rebuild. I will be there when it does.'

My eyes scanned over the shallow wounds that crossed his body. Blotches of dried blood caked in the corners of his leathers. He survived this all with one arm. For what it was worth, I believed Elren to be the strongest out of the two of us. He needed to be. 'It won't be for a long time that I'll get to see you next.'

He frowned. 'Love never changes, even in the span of time. If it is strong, Leila.'

I knew it would come to this. With what we both knew, there had been some inkling of thought growing in the recesses of my mind hoping that he would come to me at the end of it all. I supposed it was too much to ask. Elren has a duty to my brother and the Rovseed. He needed to protect them, and it would be selfish of me to think I had any hand in his choices. And although Valenwood has its own little pocket of space at the foot of Tamriel, it is still a very vast and unexplored land. The years can pass easily without waking notice.

I ran my hand across his forehead and over his cheek. They were still as rosy and soft as the day I met him. He's kind and mischievous and mysterious. He's the innocence the province needed in these trying times; in dark times.

He's mine; always will be.

'I'm sure they'll be some sort of cause we'd have to rally under in the near future, Sis.' Aranwen slapped his arm around my neck and wrestled my head into his chest. He smelled of old goat cheese.

'It'll probably be to give you a bath!' I pinched my nose.

Aranwen giggled. 'Never…'

'Will he be in good hands?' I asked.

Aranwen pulled me back and held onto my shoulders. 'Arian taught me many Akiviri sword styles. Including how to fight with a few missing limbs.' He winked at Elren.

I pretended to focus on something else. It was all I could do to hold back the sob lodged in my throat. 'Milkar is—'

'We aren't the people you need to worry about now, Leila. You've outgrown him—us—really.' Aranwen pointed towards the edge of the tree line where the Leucrota wait. 'Your destiny is with them.'

Aranwen swiped a falling tear from my eye and planted a kiss on my forehead. I felt a nudge forward on my back and began walking. I didn't look back because if I did, then I wouldn't have left. There was still so much to be done. The Tam'Akar were out there and they were still a threat to the safety of Valenwood. They may have my father and the other leaders of hierarchy fooled, but we select few know the truth behind their involvement here in Valenwood. Someday, my path will cross with the Silver Crescents again; that I had no doubt.

Larethia had a tight smile over her lips. She seemed amused by the whole spectacle. Grim, Orc, and even Sul stood by their Great Elk, saddled and ready. I took the reins of my Elk and began to mount. Being here among them left a peculiar widening smile over my lips. I felt at ease, more so than with the Crescents. I was home.

'Not so fast,' Larethia said. 'We've got a recruit I wanted you to check out.'

'Recruit?' I gave her an incredulous stare.

Sia Brim-Rose poked his head out from behind a root wall.

'If it isn't my savior himself,' I chortled.

The mer known as Sia Brim-Rose was just one of many Nightblades that sided with me in the Thieves of the Wood. It is most likely through his help I was able to win this battle.

'Good to see you again!' He said with a boisterous laugh. 'I hope I'm not being too pretentious in asking that I may join the legendary Black Raven?'

I shook my head slowly. 'You're free of this life. Why not sell your skill with the bow, see the world, or even join my brother?'

'Because that all just seems too…boring,' Sia said. 'What I want, Raven, is to fight at your side and with the Leucrota. I'm sure you'll get many more asking the same thing. Many of us care for what you're doing.'

'The path before us isn't an easy one. We'll be outcaste and chased by the authorities.'

'Sounds like an easy day.'

I watched his face as it turned to one of deep determination. I may have created something fruitful within this small group of people. I came to them as a hardened rogue, determined to bend them to my will to see a revolution come to fruition. Now, they've become my friends, my family, a part of the few that I could trust with my life.

I couldn't help but look back at the Grove of Bent Grasses as we mounted our steeds and took off into the forest. The events that occurred there would stay with me until the end of my days. This journey started with a small girl walking off a path that had been set for me long before I was born. Back then, and the couple years that followed, I held the supposition that I needed to follow where the shadows led me. Under my brother, I tried to make him king of the underground world. And though I've succeeded in that task, I see now that it isn't particularly Milkar that needs to seat it. My destiny was to ensure that the right person is charged with protecting Valenwood, whomever that may be. It was my job to find them.

In the end, I was just one girl deprived of the love of a parent and without a single fate.

'Where to now?' Larethia asked.

I pondered on that question for a while before answering. 'There's but one loose end before we can move on,' I said.

Grim shifted in his saddle. 'And what's that?'

'To start a war with the Tam'Akar.'