Cearbhail:

So, this is the first chapter for the Rogue Shadowblade. This is a sequel story to Khajiit War Mage, so if you haven't read it first... you might want to. This story does work on its own... kind of... but the conflict ongoing will be confusing if you haven't read the first story. Also, this story ties into a much larger series, the Chronicles Series (the main series on my page), and is tied into a larger conflict that will evolve as this story does. If you enjoy this, check out my other stuff, because it gets weird.

So, anyway, I hope you have fun.

Enjoy. =^^=

Chapter 1: Graduation

[Vatu]

"Today, is a grand day." Mage-Commander Hans the Hardy Battle-Born stood in front of us, stretching his arms out towards all of us as he smiled from ear-to-ear. The tall Nord stood atop a cleaned up podium, one we used to use for outside classes in the Arcane University, staring down at us. The four graduating War Mage training cells. A grand total of nearly 80 highly trained War Mages. All gathered today in our squad formations in a cleaned-up Arcane University, which was destroyed not even a month ago. Behind the Mage-Commander, all at attention, were: the Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild and my adoptive mother: Sosia Ernard; my original battlemage instructor: Arielle Jurard; the leader of the Blades: Jauffre; and the Fighters Guild Master, some Redguard by the name of Roland Lylvieve; and the current Legate of the Imperial Legion: Justinia Justice. They all stood silently, more or less as stiff as statues while the golden-armored Nord paced back and forth, a wide smile growing on his face. He was proud of us. For what we did, and that we were still alive.

Just a couple days ago, our two units of War Mages, just finished our graduation exam. We were tasked with teaming up with another unit we have never met or trained with before, and were tasked with working together to retrieve some relic that could destroy the known world if it got into the wrong hands. As it was, the relic was real, and it had some potential to destroy a lot of people's lives. One of our own found out the hard way. Calfire Gaeiath took it upon herself to destroy the relic, at the cost of her own magick. She recovered immediately, but the test showed us that we had to be ready… to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the world. We were training to be War Mages, battlemage trainees that were rushed into war training so that we could be used in a war against a much powerful foe, one that almost destroyed our entire Empire in the span of an afternoon. We didn't know things were going to get so bad, but… as it was, we were needed. The majority of us were kids… and we were drafted into the service of the Mages Guild and the Imperial Legion. That was how we were drafted into the War Mage Protocol. And here we stand, ready to be inducted into the order of the Shadow Legion as full War Mages.

I looked to my left. Primrose stood just a few feet away from me, trying to keep the smile off her face. I cannot believe just a two months ago we were just beginning as trainees. I still remember her as the quiet girl that used to do nothing but practice her healing arts. And I was eating a poisoned rat that left a bad taste in my mouth. I was at the Arcane University to train in the Battlemage Program. Five years ago, the Daedra almost destroyed the Empire, just now the Aedra are doing now, but when I was a kid… my parents died. And I vowed that I would not let something like that happen to anyone else. So, I would become one of the best battlemages, and I would protect this world from threats like the Mythic Dawn. But even so, I never imagined I would end up here, in this war. To make matters worse, if I had never intended on joining the battlemages, all these people would most likely be dead. You see, at the expense of my life, well…almost my life, I was able to keep everyone else alive during an ambush of Aedric soldiers. I was able to drive the Aedra away by using some rare bloodline of mine that allows me to become virtually unresponsive to pain for a limited time, all while I rake the shit out of my enemies. I managed to defeat the Aedra, but I almost died in the process. There were very few fatalities, mostly from our sister unit, and my uncle J'skar. But that's okay because he turned into a lich, so he's somewhat alive. He disappeared to reclaim his true body, and no one has seen him since, but… he's out there. So, that's something.

"All of you have proven yourselves worthy of being true War Mages. This is no small feat. Many, who are all older, more experienced…have trained for years to come where you all stand today. You have accomplished in two months what no one has done before. You've even fought in the thickest of battles, held your own, and came out the victors. You should be honored to call yourselves War Mages. I know I am." Mage-Commander Battle-Born nodded his head to us as he stepped away from the podium.

My mom, a short Breton woman with short black hair, and a very pregnant stomach, waddled her way up to the podium. "Thank you, Mage-Commander for your commitment to these War Mages. Thank you for making sure they were trained properly. And I would like to thank all of you… for standing here today." Her eyes settled on me, and I could see her fear as she looked me in the eye. "Most of you willingly signed up for the War Mage Protocol, and I won't lie… we're in the worst of times. We've lost so many in this war. Kvatch, Chorrol, most of the Imperial City, the entire Mages Guild, Bravil, and Leyawiin. But, in this loss, we have gained a small glimmer of hope. And that hope is you. All of you. And right now, standing here are the four graduating Troop Units of the Cyrodiil War Mage Protocol." She addressed us all, looking at us individually.

She wiped a tear from her eye as she nodded her head. "I would like to thank all of you for your commitment to the cause of saving our world, and we honor the sacrifice you may have to make in order to achieve that. The War Mage Protocol was designed after the Oblivion Crisis, for situations like this. The Imperial Legion was not ready for another dilemma such as this. An invasion of near-impossible-to-kill Aedric executioners. An enemy that wants nothing more than to extinguish all life on Tamriel. And we're the first and last defense against this threat. Normal means of combat mean nothing to these foes. As Unit 3 and 4 can attest to… combatting these angels is not as simple as it sounds. But… there is hope. Our allies have joined our cause, and War Mages from all around the world will team up with us, stand strong in the face of this invasion. We will not bend, we will not hide. We will stand together, and we will survive as a united world. Or… we will all fall. Let this be the moment in history where one man did not defend this world. Instead, let this be the one moment in history where, on Morndas the 18th of First Seed, 5e004, the world stood as one, and we said, 'No, we not fade into the night! We will not falter in our retaliation! We will fight until the last breath! This is our world, and by the will of Arkay, I will not lay down and die! We will not lay down and die!'" She nodded as she stepped away from the podium.

Mage-Commander Battle-Born nodded as he walked up to the podium again. "Well said, Mage-General Ernard. And now, a word from the son of Chancellor Ocato, and the Knight-Enchanter of War Mage Troop Unit 3: Erandur Ocato." He waved for Erandur to step up to the stage.

Erandur paused for a second, no doubt weighing what he was going to say. As the leader of our troop, he was supposed to give a speech. He glanced back at Davilia, his girlfriend. She gave him a thin smile and nodded slightly. Then Erandur looked over at me and barely smiled. Smile…that's something none of us do very often. Not since two days ago when we almost died during a surprise raid by the Aedra. Even if we were as pleased as can be, we're all still in shock. We suffered heavily. Like I said earlier, we didn't lose much. My friend Primrose pretty much kept everyone alive. Unit 3 lost two people, one of which was back to life thanks to a little thing called Histskin. The other one was an Orc that saw Malacath, his god, right as he died. And for me… once you live through so much that the ground becomes a lake of multi-colored blood and you technically die…you stop feeling heavy emotions. You have to. Otherwise, you break down. I wake up every night in terrible screams. The nightmares, the memories of my near-death experiences at the hands of the Aedra. That… and I have an evil necromancer living in my head. He's fighting for control over my body. The only thing that helps me fall asleep at night is Primrose rubbing the top of my head. She has this effect on me… that keeps the necromancer at bay, and… to be honest, it feels nice. I need something nice in my life. And Primrose is the closest thing I have to that.

I glanced over at her. I know I feel something for her, but I'm so…numb. So, emotionally ruined that I cannot even comprehend the emotion love. Not that I could to begin with. I'm kind of… also… not sexually attracted to anyone, and as far as romance goes, I'm still… new to the whole thing. And did I mention I'm emotionally-numb these days? I'm just too exhausted. Maybe one day I'll figure out how to open up without losing my mind, but today is not that day. With Primrose wanting to spend time with me, help heal me… I think I'll be ready someday, but… just not today.

Erandur's voice pulls my gaze back to the center of the stage. "Fellow War Mages. We are the youngest of our generation. Half of us aren't even old enough to be considered adults. But…this is a time of emergency, a time of war. Look around at your friends…you family. Get a good look. I can guarantee that if we put our best into this…invasion" he spits the word out, "that we'll be able to see these faces again. We can survive to live, to love, to relax. But as long as we have Aedra flying up above us, killing us like ants…we can never hope to do so. So, we will do what we have to. We will fight, we will run, we will find a way to survive this." Erandur stops talking and looks down at the ground. I can tell that he's not done talking yet. The way his eyes dart around, I guess he's thinking of what to say next.

In just that speech, Erandur has worded every feeling that threatened to control me. He's right. I can worry about my feelings after this war is done. Until then, I might as well just keep myself locked up. I need to be functional, and I can't do that if I have a mental breakdown during a mission.

Erandur looks back up at us and says, "I won't lie, though. If you took a good look around, I hope you remember what everyone looks like. Chances are…some of those faces won't be around to see the end of this war. We will be fighting for our lives… our right to exist. So, don't die holding onto regrets. Live life now, live it to the fullest, but don't be stupid about how you do so. Don't drink yourself into a stupor moments before an Aedra invades our area of operation. Drunk mages are not heroes. That being said, don't live lifeless. The last thought you want to have on your conscious is not telling that special someone that you love them, because… you may never get the chance to be with that person ever again. Spend every moment living for you…and for them. We all lost someone by now…don't let it be you next."

With that, he walked back up to us and took his spot. Davilia wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her, whispering comforting words. I could see tears rolling down his cheek now. He was doing everything he could to not cry. Sometimes, these ears are a curse. Because I could hear what Davilia was whispering to him. "Eran, your father would be proud to see you now."

He barely nodded, his tears falling down even faster now. "I'm sure he's watching us as we speak." His voice was so strained that I could barely hear the words come out. It sounded like his words were choking him. And I was choking on my own tears. Mom and Dad were killed a long time ago during the Oblivion Crisis… but I could still feel their gaze upon me. When I died… a few days ago, I got to see my parents. They were waiting for me, and had many questions about my life… about Nisha's. they weren't really watching… not in the way I would have expected. I wonder if Erandur's dad even knows what's going on? I should keep these facts to myself. I don't need him crying even harder than he is now. I can't do that to my friend.

Mage-Commander Battle-Born walked back up to the stage, his face more carved out of sadness now than joy. He bowed to us all, saying. "I hereby name you officially the War Mages of Cyrodiil." He glanced back down at Erandur and said, "Knight-Enchanters of each Troop Unit, you are to report to me in one week for your new orders. Take this time to prepare your new armor, your new weapons, and any training you might want to consider before going into the war full-front. Because once you start marching, you won't have time before your first encounter to recall how to shoot a flaming arrow at a target that zigzags like a banshee. Also, take this time to introduce yourselves to your fellow War Mages. You may be seeing each other in the field, depending on overlapping missions. Also, take this as your official vacation before we take Tamriel back from the angels that threaten our world."

With the dismissal, I took my ceremonial step back. It was a sign that I was getting out of formation, by stepping back out of it first. Once I got out of the formation, I turned for Erandur to help comfort him, but I guess I was not fast enough. Within a few seconds a round fluffy puffball slammed into my chest.

I grunted and swung my arms around to catch Nisha before she fell off of me. Once we embraced in a tight hug, I could hear her screaming, "Congrats, brother! You're really a War Mage now."

I nodded and hugged her close. "So are you, you little furball." I rapped my knuckles over her fluffy noggin. "And after this war is over, we'll find a nice house near the Imperial City…or wherever we wish to live. I'll support us with food, water. We'll have real lives again." And I'll find my twin sister, Vara. We were separated at birth, and I just recently found out she existed. I'm going to go find her. We need each other, more now than ever.

Nisha scoffed and rolled her eyes. "We have lives now, brother. The Mages Guild…that's our home."

But how long will the Mages Guild still be around? I thought sourly. I looked over to my adopted mother, Sosia Ernard. She was smiling from ear-to-ear, chatting to Adam Ernard, her husband. The Mages Guild was all but destroyed. There were very few mages that survived the onslaught by the Aedra, but… we were still standing. We'll rebuild the guild from the ground up if we have to. For that to work though, we need to survive. Centuries of magick knowledge cannot just fade into obscurity. I won't allow it.

A small smile formed on my lips, one of the few ones I've had in a while. I imagined the five of us living in a small cottage next to a hill of trees and close enough to a river. Nisha and our newest sister running around, me catching fish, Sosia making stew, Adam…doing something productive. It seemed like a normal life. Something I hadn't had in a long time. Nisha and I were always running, fighting, stealing from the undead. It gets tiring and you can't run forever without a place to call home. Soon enough, we would have one. I would personally see to it.

Primrose was the next one to fly into my chest. She pulled me in for a tight squeeze, Nisha still clinging to me as well. I heard Nisha cry out in alarm as she was squished between us. "Let me out…I can't breathe!"

"Sorry, Nisha." Primrose pulled away just long enough to let Nisha escape before throwing herself into me. I tripped on my tail and the two of us fell to the ground, both of us crying out in alarm as we did so. The next thing I remember was Prim's head contacting against mine and we were both groaning in pain before we sat up.

I rubbed the top of my head and looked at her. When I first met Primrose, she was a petite wood elf who looked friendly but shy. She had flawless skin, light brown skin. Bright icy blue eyes. Shoulder-length bright dark green hair. Looking at her now, I could see the creases of her skin turning leathery, her eyes hardened, more focused. Her hair was shorter now and a muddier green. That and she had scars in random spots all around her body. She looked like a fighter now. But inside, she was still the same Bosmer I met in the university.

Primrose smiled at me and pulled me in for a hug. "Can you believe that we're War Mages?"

I returned her hug, knowing that I could perform at least this type of emotional comfort. "Yeah, but…it seems like we've only stepped through a barrier that was protecting us. Now we're out in the open, out for real. Before…when people were hurt, you ran up and healed them. Our simulations were good, but no one died. Even the scald victims during our final test were healed flawlessly. But now…" I shook my head and pulled her closer. I felt tears welling up. I…I thought about what I would be like if she died, knowing what I know about her: how she felt about me, and how I felt about her. It would be like if Nisha were to die on me. I…I don't think I could live normally after that.

I guess Primrose noticed my tightened hug and maybe even sensed my lungs taking in more sharp breaths as I started silently crying behind her back. She patted my back, humming lightly. "It's okay, Vatu. Stay calm." She whispered just loud enough to make my ears strain to focus on her. It helped.

Stay calm. It was a mantra I had to say all the time. I had this special bloodline that allows me to invincible… but thanks to a certain necromancer god, Mannimarco, I have a curse that caused me to go feral every time I change over. And the leading cause for my bloodline runs off of stress. The more stressed, scared, or angry I become… the more feral I might become. And each time I turn, Mannimarco gets one step closer to taking over my mind, forcing me to become more and more like him. A tool for destruction. So far, I could always focus my rage on something…like an enemy. But here where it was just all of us, I don't know what would happen. I might kill someone I love instead. And Mannimarco already threatened me with it. He wants to kill my friends. He wants to kill Nisha. Anything to make me his pet.

Nisha watched quietly from beside us, giving us cooing sounds of affection. "Primrose and Vatu hunting in a tree…"

I snapped my fingers and a small flare popped up near her nose. It snapped just loud enough to make her jump back. "Hey!" She yelled at me, crossing her arms. She huffed off, leaving Prim and me alone for a few seconds. It was comforting and I didn't want anyone to overly complicate this. Primrose already knew my position with our 'relationship'. I didn't feel like I could open to her and I openly stated that she shouldn't wait for me to open up but move onto someone else. She quietly seemed to ignore that, hoping that someday she will win me over, 'heal my heart' as she calls it. All this just makes me feel worse about it because I feel like I'm using her in some shape or form, which only locks me up more. I wish this could be easier to deal with. There was one more thing that could make this more distracting and confusing for me. She was my current girlfriend. Her name was…

…

[Nexa]

"How is the prisoner doing?"

My eyes slowly opened to the sight of the bloody walls that surrounded my small cell. I lightly pulled on my arms, testing the chains still pulled through the walls. When my arm moved a full three inches before shocking me with light lightning magicka, I knew that the chains were still working.

I screamed out in minor discomfort before the shocks wore off. Stars danced in front of my eyes. My stomach turned, and for the fourth time today, I puked up my morning breakfast. Whatever was left of it at least.

How long had I been locked up like this? Three weeks now? No…too long. Two weeks. Wait…how long ago was it? It was only three of four days into my torture, from what counting I was able to achieve, that I pulled my soul into the Void to save Vatu's life. And it's only been a few days after that. Five? Six days? And I'm still here? How long will this continue? Another month? Two months? It hasn't even been a full week yet… and I'm already done with this.

Vatu… I haven't seen him show up to save me from my prison, but that was a good thing. As long as he and his family stayed away from Black Marsh, I would never have to worry about anyone here killing him. His life is all that matters to me. I betrayed my own father, my own blood, to save his sister. All because that fucking idiot showed me just how much of a fucking idiot I was for harboring a grudge against his kind for the deeds we forced on them. And it's kind of funny. His special kind of crazy have been the death of most of my family… and most of the Shadow Legion agents… like me. I should have guessed that he'd be the end of me. I just wished that he would have returned the favor by now, and did something heroic… like break into the prison, shirtless, pantsless, and hold himself out for me to see as he says something like… "I'm here to save you, bed you, and then bed you some more." I know he'd never actually say it, but… a girl can dream, right?

I ran drills in my head to keep myself sane, but there was only so much I could do. Besides the visions of Vatu ravaging my chained body, and forcing electricity to spike some… other feelings I have… I have been forced to do one last thing to keep myself busy. Memorizing my life story.

My name is Nexauvia Frazviani. I am the daughter of the Warlord. I am the granddaughter of the Queen of Shadows of Argonia. I am a princess, royal by birth. I am a Shadowblade. I have feelings for a Khajiit, which is forbidden for someone of the royal throne, and doubly forbidden for he is the spawn of our greatest enemy: the blood-rager. I betrayed my country for said Khajiit and saved his sister, who is also a blood-rager in preparation. Now I'm in prison, slowly dying. Which sucks. But I know that Sithis awaits my arrival and I can wait for Vatu to join me. I have all eternity to wait. Then…we can be together. I will finally fuck his brains out.

My thoughts are the only thing that keep me centered. It's my meditation. Without it, I have nothing to do, no thoughts. I'll just keep running random scenes and memories of Vatu and his sister, with mentions of my training and my Shadowmaster mentor: Uncle Julanza.

"Prisoner has slight recognition. She can't hold her food and we expect her to extinguish herself by the end of the week." My present guard called out to my mysterious visitor. End of the week. Give me some credit. I plan on surviving at least four more days. That would make it ten days… not one week.

But, the guard was right. I couldn't hold my food down. I had lost my will to go further. After seeing the afterlife and what it has to offer over this cell, I'd rather be there and not here. My body was so weak that I couldn't separate from it though. So, I thought I'd just do this the old-fashioned way: die.

"Let me in." Those words sounded familiar. I found myself trying to sit up straight up all I received in return were two steady doses of electricity puzzling through my veins, sending me into a sort of muscle twitching shock. For the fifth time today, vomit poured out of my mouth involuntarily. Ok, I think I had a connection here. The electricity convulses my fluids out of me. Not my fault, it's theirs.

The door squealed loudly as it slowly opened up. The overdone cape was enough of a give-away. The thick spiked boots that crunched against the floor was another. And finally, the words "Hello, daughter." were the last giveaway. I picked my head up and glanced up at my father, the only reason I was in here.

You see… I kind of killed a bunch of my coworkers… three I think? Maybe more? I'm not really sure, it was a long day. I know I killed the grandson of a military hero. And he was also… my fiancé… sort of. But I killed him, all to protect Vatu's sister. She was being targeting for assassination, and I was the only one protecting her. So… I had to kill people to make that happen, all while helping her escape our country. And that required… more killing. My court case was fast and simple. I was sent to a couple white robes for medical treatment. Then, my father walked into my medical bay while I was healing. And he began questioning me. And by that, I mean interrogating. As soon as he threw my only evidence of my guilt in my face, in the form of my trashed bloody shirts I wore throughout the day, he ordered me to be scaled, tailed, and then thrown in this jail cell. The Queen, the Warlord, and the Shadowmasters were all present for my scaling. I was held down as Shadowmaster ripped my scales off my body forcefully. I was whipped by Dad, and then I was thrown into prison. I wasn't allowed any clothing, no blankets… no nothing. Just a damp, wet… dungeon with electric chains that do just enough damage to me to force me to stay upright.

I tried to force a smile as I saw him standing in front of me. "Finally reach a verdict?" When I last saw him, he said that I was to be scaled, and that I would be tossed in here until him, Grandma, and a jury of my fellow Shadowblades and Shadow Masters looked over my case… and decide if I was to be tailed, or executed. Dad told me that he wanted me to die for what I did. If he's here… I bet he's just going to grab me by the throat and choke me out. I wouldn't expect anything less. Today is the day I die.

He looked down at me, somewhat curious, somewhat lost in thought. I can understand. If I was put in the position to kill my only offspring, I would want to reflect first too.

"You remind me so much of your mother. Your feathers…" He reached out, touching my lavender feathers sprouting from my head. "your spirit." He smiled and started walking around. He glanced at me. "Your love of Khajiits." His smile vanished.

I scoffed. "Yeah…sure." I shook my head, my neck muscles still tight and twitchy from the shocks I took. My throat burned from all the acid coming up and down lately. I really needed some water. "I didn't help the Khajiit girl escape… so… whatever."

He glanced down at me, looking curiously at me again. "Deny it all you want, I know the truth. However… there…has been a change of plans. You have a…chance to redeem yourself. You've spent time with Mages Guild, correct? You know the Arch Mage, the battlemages, and… you're friends with some of the War Mages. Correct?"

I nodded.

"You know the 4th War Mage Troup…led by an Altmer by the name Erandur. Correct?" He said, stepping forward, crossing his arms.

My thoughts started turning. Erandur. I remember him. He was a friend of Vatu. They were in the same training program. When they left for their two-month long training… Vatu was in the same formation as him. So that would mean that Vatu was with him.

I found myself smiling. That itself was an answer to my father's question. He bent down, looking me eye-to-eye. "There has been some talking going on between me and the other nations. We're all rallying here in Argonia…the last safe place in Tamriel. We're forming an alliance. A War Council. And I'm continuing with the creation of my special task force, the…Shadow Squad. You were supposed to lead this squad, but… then you betrayed our nation. I wanted to task Shadowblade Zergon with the assignment, but he is still… MIA. So, I want you to lead it. The squad will mainly work with these War Mages, assist them in their efforts as they work on ways of defeating the Aedra. If you agree to join the Shadow Squad as the leader, you'll leave this dungeon and get your old bedroom back. If you say no…well…there's still the execution hearing today."

I didn't even have to think about it. I nodded and said, "It would be an honor to serve you, my Warlord." At least until I can escape with my friends.

"Good, because I have entrusted Shadowmaster Julanza as your watcher." He replied, a sick smile growing on his scaly lips. "With your frail body being what it is… he will make sure you will be presentable for our new allies."

Ok…or I will die at the hands of my Uncle's crazy training regimen. Still, at least I won't die in this cell today.

"Oh, and do remember, dear daughter." He bent down, grabbing me by my feathers and plucking me up. A giant volt of lightning coursed through my body as he kept me up on my knees. He held me there for a few seconds longer than I felt I could tolerate, and I screamed out in bloody murder. My eyeballs felt like they were cooking. "You will be representing all of Argonia. Do not dishonor our family name."

Fuck… you…

"Of course, father."

Cearbhail:

I just want to let you all know... this story, as of 8/31/2019, is currently under revision. I will eventually come back and save over this entry when it's completed. So, if any chapters seem... unconnected, and characters mentioned before no longer seem to have a voice or appearance... this is why. I added a lot of new characters when I rewrote Khajiit War Mage. So, anyway, if you read this and enjoy the changers, just give it some time. It took 2 years for the rewrite of Khajiit War Mage to be completed, and this will take probably 1 year. If we don't all die first. Anyway. Here we go.