Sometimes, when no one walks away happy from a decision, it's the closest indicator of knowing you might have administered "justice."

You could have heard a pin drop in the Cathedral. For everyone involved, there was no way of foreseeing that Do'Ravier would actually do this. In retrospect it probably was not all that out of character but irregardless, no one could have had the slightest hint this was about to happen. The Cathedral staff who were not stupefied stared in horror, disbelief or simply lost the color on their face.

Delamar for his part, while disgruntled, did not seem all that fazed by the whole thing.

"Seize him." the Thalmor nodded to several of his soldiers.

Do'Ravier did not resist as they slapped special shackles to his wrists to sap his magic. However, he did speak as the slightest of smiles seem to play under his hood.

"Talos was long worshipped before the rise of your Dominion. Why is it just him of the pantheon that you wished struck down? Was it because he was mortal who touched the divine and thereby could inspire mortals that we are not just mundane?"

"Silence! I will have none of that nonsense! Get him out of here." Delamar barked.

"Delamar, let him go, he's crazy! I don't know what's gotten to his head but this isn't him!" Claudia protested from within the group.

"If he's crazy, all the more reason for us to take him. Don't worry, if he's simply having a slip of mind, we'll return him once we've judged his sanity has been restored." Delamar replied with calculated assurance.

"Or did it bother you all that it was just because he was a man? A man and not a High Elf that was elevated? That maybe there was some legitimacy to the legend that only those of the Dragonborn blood can seal shut the gates of Oblivion? There's a giant dragon statue in the Cyrodilic capital mocking you!" Do'Ravier shouted.

"Enough!" Delamar roared.

Sibylla chose that moment to step forward, lowering her head and offering her wrists.

"I as well. I also believe in Talos." Sibylla admitted loudly for the nearby guards to hear.

By now a growing number of priests and cathedral staff were starting to stare in their direction. Horror was quickly spreading among them. First was the shock that two of their number which they had worked alongside with for so long would be admitting this openly in front of the Thalmor. The next problem they all realized was that Sibylla and Do'Ravier had just fed the justiciars the very excuse to further interrogate them all. How hard would the justiciars come down on them for two of their number flat out admitting to the worship of Talos?

"Sibylla!" Claudia screeched.

"Take them both away, now. We'll have to talk to each of these priest and priestesses individually. I will personally see that these two are escorted back to our headquarters. My lieutenants will take over from here." Delamar grumbled in disgust, stepping down from the podium to join his guards handling Sibylla and Do'Ravier. Meanwhile, the other soldiers began yelling instructions to the other cathedral staff.

For Sibylla it was all one chaotic cacophony that she barely paid any attention to. She was in shock. Why had she admitted? Was it because it was the right thing to do? Was it because she did not care anymore? Was it some sort of premonition? Even Do'Ravier seemed to glance at her quizzically as they were led out into the cold winter air surrounded on all sides by Thalmor soldiers, Delamar at their head upon his horse.

"I am not surprised by either of you." Delamar murmured disgustedly at them as he spurred his horse to the head of the formation in front of them.

Sibylla detested the feeling of the heavy hemp rope around her wrists, binding them in front of her. Do'Ravier's shackles looked smoother and therefore more comfortable. However, she knew he would have hated it, maybe much more than she hated her own bindings only because his were taking away his greatest asset. What was most perplexing was how he seemed to be smiling, as if this was something he had planned all along. He even seemed to be looking into the sky. Crazy Khajiit.

She hated how everyone was staring as they passed. All of them with wide eyes and gawking faces. Random people who probably had an inkling that something was wrong and yet said and did nothing. The poor fools. Sibylla had half a mind to snap at these faceless onlookers and yet she knew better. They just wanted to be left alone and yet when oppressors demanded an inch they would soon take a mile and those who were promised to be spared would soon be ground underfoot as well. The most wretched thing about it was that they would play along with it all the while, praying desperately that the writing on the wall would be wrong, if they just ignored it hard enough it would become false.

Sibylla blinked when an abnormally strong wind seemed to descend on them. In fact, the the entire column seemed to slow as the wind picked up pace. It was a sustained force and soon it was billowing snow on them which had come from the overhead rooftops.

"What sorcery is this?" Delamar grumbled on his horse.

Sibylla heard Do'Ravier chuckle.

There was something wrong about that noise, she wasn't sure what but it bothered her. It was not a tone she had heard in his voice before. It was at that moment that she realized something; Do'Ravier had not been staring into the sky this whole time. He had been watching the rooftops. Sibylla felt her heartbeat quicken. Was this fear or excitement?

Delamar cried out but was drowned by the dying screams of his horse toppling under him. Several of the guards next to them groaned and gurgled wetly in their throats though it was hard to see what from due to all the snow around them. Sibylla did not care, she went on her instincts. She lashed out, bringing her arms over her head to snare the guard nearest to her. He began to choke noisily as she began to garrote him with her own rope. It is a not a very quick way to go and he struggled viciously but Sibylla could feel herself channeling all her hate into crushing his throat.

The wind was beginning to die down but as Sibylla squashed the last bit of life out of the guard, she saw a figure come skidding to a halt in front of Do'Ravier. Hooded and brandishing two bloodied if beautiful elven daggers, she realized it was none other than Sharza. The female Khajiit quickly stuck one of her extended claws into the keyhole of Do'Ravier's shackles and they quickly fell to the ground. The battlemage reached over to one of the fallen guards and retrieved his spear just as Sharza also returned his taloned gauntlets and footpads to him.

Those two had planned this all along?

"Sharza, get her out of here." Do'Ravier ordered quietly, slipping his paws into the golden amber gauntlets.

"And you?" Sharza asked, cutting Sibylla's ropes.

"Unfinished business."

She heard the two say something to each other in Khajiiti but she did not think to ask what they were talking about. She stared in shock at the bodies around her. She saw Delamar was still alive, futilely trying to rise from what must have been a nasty wound in his gut. Still, she was still unsure that this was all happening. She meekly followed Sharza who quickly tugged her away towards a quiet part of the city before the crowds could return.

Do'Ravier watched them walk off before turning his attention to Delamar. The Thalmor was growling venomously, not enjoying his position in the ground. Spotting a secluded nearby alley, Do'Ravier smiled. He leaned down and began to drag Delamar along the ground leaving a blood trail as they went.

"Come, Khajiit would have words with you."

The atmosphere at the cathedral was stifling and reeked of fear and anxiety. Whether or not they had every single worst case scenario running through their head or were blissfully naive of the cruelest of Thalmor atrocities, no one liked the feeling of being herded like helpless sheep. No one appreciated the feeling of being ordered around by someone with a weapon while they were unarmed and unarmored. Claudia and Bann-Je felt it the most keenly. Two of their team had been marched off and now both were very much aware that their armor and other equipment was only several feet from them in their rooms.

"Bann-Je, I need you to promise me something." Claudia murmured as they were being marched down a corridor.

"What?"

"Sibylla and Do'Ravier already went and did something spontaneous. I don't want you to go pulling any stunts either. You're the last person I have of my team." Claudia grumbled.

Bann-Je's three voices all flared up at once.

"So much disorder, we need to be in groups of threes. They're breaking the routines! KILL THEM ALL. KILL THEM. NECK SNAPS FOR THE FIRST FEW. CARVE UP THE LAST. They are so sad...so sad...will you let their sadness spread to the others? Will you throw away your last depressing chance?"

"I don't think I can do that, Claudia." Bann-Je whispered.

"What? No. Don't you dare." Claudia growled furtively.

She found herself growling at an empty space. Bann-Je had been there a moment ago, where had that confounded lizard gone? She found herself hating his ability to disappear like that. What had gotten into those three? She blamed herself for giving them too much autonomy. What were those three thinking? Why were they doing this? The Thalmor were not nice people but they honored the White-Gold Concordate and so long as everyone played by the rules-

"Ma'am, are you Claudia Vivinicci?" a justiciar demanded.

"What? Uh, yes! I am!" Claudia blurted, startled from her thoughts.

"I know the Nord and Khajiit were dragged away but where is the Argonian?"

"Confound them all!"

"I-I do not know." Claudia admitted.

"Ma'am, do not lie to me. I will only ask you one last time. Where is the Argonian?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know." Claudia asserted.

The Thalmor immediately recognized that she was telling the truth.

"Everyone halt! We have a missing person! Someone has escaped!"

Claudia could feel that everything had gone spiraling out of control.

Sibylla followed Sharza numbly towards the edge of the city. She decided skulking deeper into her hood would help to hide herself and probably steer away any suspicion. Sharza meanwhile moved quickly, dragging the taller woman along until they were at a stable. Once there, Sharza immediately started throwing pieces of armor at her.

"Change, put these on. You must leave this place and look as far different as a Divine priestess as possible."

"How did you get this?" Sibylla demanded, disrobing behind a closed stall and throwing the iron armor on. It was generic, not the best quality equipment but it at least fit her, if maybe a little too tightly. In some ways it reminded her of when she first started off on her own adventures for the first time ages ago.

"Do'Ravier liquidated some Dwarven artifacts of his. Friends of mine took care of the rest. Sharza was supposed to meet all of you in the Cathedral but your coming with them changed the plans a little." Sharza admitted, tossing her a one handed steel ax, round shield and shortsword as well.

"This was all certain friends were willing to donate." Sharza shrugged.

"Are you two...resistance fighters?" Sibylla inquired carefully.

"No. Victims who got tired of being treated like rugs. We've become experts at this."

"So did you two really study at the Synod then? Is he really a battlemage and are you really a self made spellthief?" Sibylla asked, strapping the shield on.

"Those much are true. No one asked why we left Elsweyr."

"I thought it was so you could study."

"That is a good assumption we let people hold onto, an excuse, not the reason. Hurry, you must get on your horse and leave this place. Go to Hammerfell. No place is safe for you in the Empire anymore." Sharza rushed.

"Wait? I must go to Hammerfell? What about everyone else?" Sibylla demanded.

"You are like Sharza and Do'Ravier know, except pesky Thalmor pay more attention to Nords than mischievous Khajiit who all look the same to them. Sharza is sorry, Sibylla, but if you stay in the Empire you will be hunted. Thalmor are not allowed in Hammerfell, though. You will able to rebuild there. Sharza, Do'Ravier and some fun friends of Sharza will take care of the others." Sharza grinned though her eyes had no mirth in them.

Sibylla was silent, realizing the Khajiit was right and she had no choice in the matter. Yesterday the man she loved had died and today she had become a fugitive. She hoped this freefall had a bottom somewhere.

"I'll leave and I'll go to Hammerfell, even if it means leaving all my things behind." Sibylla said, painfully regretting that she did not have Head Reaper.

"But I think you owe me an explanation of what really happened."

"Ach, very well, Sharza will tell you if you get on the horse and start walking towards the gate. Also, throw dirt on your face, look like mean sellsword."

"Let me tell you a story, Delamar." Do'Ravier announced, dragging the wounded Thalmor further into the alley. He propped the man up against the wall and took a seat on an abandoned wooden box. Delamar only glared at him.

"Don't linger, Khajiit. They'll find me from the trail you left." Delamar snarled, noticing the tracks in the snow that led up to them.

"Don't worry, you will be dead by then. Now, storytime; I promise you'll enjoy it."

Delamar growled, clutching the grievous wound in his abdomen but had no other choice.

"Back in Elsweyr there was this Khajiiti girl named Nadera. She was a beautiful girl, even when she was young. She came from a family of merchants and was training as an acolyte in one of the temples from a young age. She grew more beautiful as she got older and she was sweet to all she met, everyone loved her."

"I get the point."

"Shut up, no you don't. Anyway, she took a liking to this awkward, scrawny, orphan out in the streets. No one understood what she saw in him, his fur was always messed up and muddy and he could barely survive on his own. Whatever it was, she made sure he was taken care of, an extra portion of food from the handouts, making sure he stayed away from the skooma peddlers. It was a shock to everyone when she saved enough money to pay for this studies with a group of mages. While no one else saw it, she saw a mage in him."

"Oh gods, you're talking about yourself." Delamar groaned disgustedly.

"How astute of you. Anyway, they got older, fell in love and began talking about marriage. He was almost done with his studies on being a battlemage since he had a knack for explosives but he was lagging behind in his healing. She was meeting with her family who had come back from a trip to Skyrim with several of their hired hands when a Thalmor soldier accused one of the Nord helpers of being a Talos worshipper from a bad comment. It got ugly. She tried to calm things down but one thing led to another and soon the soldier ran her through with his sword right there in front of her family."

"A pity you were too stupid to comprehend your healing magic quicker. Your whore would probably still be alive."

Do'Ravier frowned but otherwise ignored that taunt.

"You're not completely incorrect. I arrived just as she was dying. The wound was too much and I was too late. Nadera died in my arms."

"I assume there's a point to your story?"

"Don't worry, I'm getting to the part you'll love. You see, I did not know what to do. My beneficiaries, her family, had a daughter to bury and it did not feel right to continue to accept from them. I was lost, I was angry, it was night and then I spotted the soldier and his team that killed her. So I lost it. It was the first time I felt true rage. All that practice with spear and staff became useful. Maybe too useful. See, I gutted them open without meaning to. I was ashamed about how messy it was and wanted to leave some sort of explanation, so I left a one word note on the nearby wall using their blood as ink. It really helped relieve the anger. I decided to do it again. And again. And again."

Delamar's eyes suddenly went wide as realization began to sink in like so many icy fingers in his chest.

"Yes, the one word note was 'Oppressor.' You see, I wanted to tell you this story because I knew you had been searching for the Mad Cat. Do'Ravier must congratulate you! You caught him, you caught the Mad Cat. And then the Mad Cat caught you."

Do'Ravier plunged his spear into Delamar's chest and then yanked it out in a torrent of red. Delamar had only just expired when the Khajiit took a bag from under his robe and emptied its contents on Delamar's corpse. The mixture was one one part salt, another part charcoal and three parts fire salts. The powder lit up quickly under a flame spell and when others would follow the trail to this alley, all they would find would be blackened bones and ashes.

No sooner was that over did Do'Ravier disappear down a nearby sewer drain. His eyes flashed in the darkness as he searched for the proper path. There was still much to do and he would have to remain out of sight. However, he had not traveled far when he heard footsteps approaching him in the dark.

"It took you long enough." Bann-Je's hoarse voice broke the silence.

"What are you doing down here? I was going to come back for you in the cathedral."

"I had to disappear and break away. I could do more for our fellow priests free than in chains. Unfortunately, it caused some unforeseen problems." Bann-Je admitted.

"What happened?"

"They marched them all out and brought them to be interrogated and jailed at their headquarters. Every last one of them."

Do'Ravier scratched his chin for a moment.

"This complicates things...but also makes it simpler. Come, we have a lot of work to do."