Author's Note - I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews. It really helps me keep going to know people are reading, and enjoying Dusty's story! Thank you!

"Have you heard yet? Can you believe it?"

I crept past crowds of students speaking in hushed tones, their eyes wide, rumours flying. No one had missed the news, and everyone had their own theory as to exactly what had happened.

"He was assassinated, wasn't he? By the Dark Brotherhood!"

"Don't be stupid, the Dark Brotherhood doesn't exist. It had to be the Neraverine, looking for more power from Cyrodiil."

I swept through the bedlam, somehow still trapped in my own little world as all of Tamriel panicked. The emperor's death meant nothing to me, and Ocato's ultimatum from last night still sat sickly in my mind. I worried my lip. Bolor…

"There you are!" I gasped, jerked from my thoughts by a hand clamping around my shoulder, pulling me over. Bolor. I winced. "You've heard, haven't you? Assassinated, the emperor and his three sons. I thought it was a rumour, but – "

"I know, I heard." I didn't dare meet his eye, scared he would see into me, see the secret I held. "I – I need to talk to you, now."

"In just a moment, Dust. Look."

I followed Bolor's gesture, watching the Arch Mage and Royal guards ascended the stairs. The sun glinted off their armour, flashes of warning as shouts for order rose.

"A speech." Bolor murmured next to me. His hand slipped idly into mine – it took all my strength not to jerk away. "Wonder what he has to say."

"Students of the Arcane University." Ocato's voice boomed, magnified by magicka and the grandeur he possessed. "You have all heard the terrible news – our Emperor and his sons are dead. We are without an heir. This effects all of Tamriel, including this school."

"What will they do?" I murmured, more to myself than anyone. Bolor hushed me.

"In my capacity as Arch Mage and Head of the Elder Council, I have been elected Chancellor during this time of crisis."

"What does that mean?"

"Shh!"

"In light of this, I have selected a successor who will take my place as Arch Mage immediately. I leave this school in the capable hands of Arch Mage Hannibal Traven."

My blood froze.

"All classes have been cancelled for today, to allow for reorganization and for mourning of our beloved Emperor." Ocato towered over his listeners, suddenly more than Arch Mage, but ruler – ruler of the empire, of Tamriel. "Pray for him, and may the Nine guide us in this most difficult time. Thank you."

"Traven." Bolor growled, his hand clenching on me just a bit too tightly. "Of all the old bastards he could have chosen..."

My throat went dry, my voice a croak as I feigned ignorance. "Wh-why? Who is he?"

"He was the Chapterhead of Anvil. He's a notorious enemy of Necromancy and it's practicers." Bolor scoffed, tugging me along behind him as the crowd dispersed. "Evils of Necromancy, my blue arse. The twit wouldn't recognize magicka if it bit him on the nose, too busy dabbling in those useless potions of his." He glanced at me carelessly, barely catching my attention. "No offense, sweet."

"None ta - where are we going?" I hissed as he dragged me along behind him, maneuvering me through the crowd like a child before slipping into one of the walled gardens. Not quite hidden in the shifting shadows and vines he pulled me towards him, hands clasped on my shoulders, eyes flashing.

"Dust. This could be very, very bad for me."

"...I know." I barely managed a whisper, my heart splitting as he idly played with my necklace. "Will he get rid of Necromancy?" More unspoken questions - will he get rid of you?

"I don't know. I would assume." Bolor's thin lips twisted. "Ocato has been on my back more and more, these past few weeks, but I never expected this." He glanced towards the grounds, hemming before grasping my hand and pulling me along once again. I felt like a rag doll, being helplessly jerked around, but I didn't know what to do. I followed him into the Mage's Quarters, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"On your back about what? I thought your work was appro - "

"Not so loud. Come to my room."

And suddenly, I felt it - that sense of sinister and secrecy, of being pulled into something dark and twisted as Sirius's face flashed in my mind. I pulled away, wincing under Bolor's harsh gaze. Gnawing at my lip, I followed, our footsteps echoing eerily down the corridor and the door booming shut behind me.

"There, now." Bolor sighed, sitting on his bed, staring at nothing. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Talk?" I choked. "Oh, yes. I just... I wanted..."

"Come here." Bolor smiled softly, moving aside to make room for me before lacing his fingers in mine. I bit back a shudder, closing my eyes. "You're trembling like a leaf. I'll be alright, Dust."

No. You won't.

But I couldn't tell him that.

I meant to hold it back, meant to stop it, but when his hand brushed my cheek, I just... broke. I blinked furiously, burying myself in the crook of his neck, warm and safe.

Why is this happening?

"You don't need to fear for me. I've encountered such prejudice before." Bolor soothed, stroking my neck as he murmured. "There are other ways, Dust, other paths to pursue. We don't need the school."

I listened, utterly silent.

"They're blind, love. Blind to what we can accomplish, blind to what we could do. They're trying to hold us back. They fear us." A faint smile. "As they should. We have power, you and I."

Power. Fear. I pulled away, hugging myself tight and staring at my feet if only to avoid his gaze. Creative use of footwear... "What do you mean?"

"Your potions are incredible, sweet. I've never seen the like." He stood, pacing. "And Necromancy has such use for potions, such applications. Bonemeal, mort flesh, lich skin, all are potent. Think of what you could do, Dust, if it weren't for the fools trying to hold us back! Think of the possibilities!"

"Bolor." I played with the necklace, lips pursed. "What you do - it's approved, isn't it? All I've seen are dissections, lessons on restoration." I gulped. "It is approved. Isn't it?"

A slow, creeping frown made my heart plummet. "That doesn't matter, Dust."

No. Please, please, no, it does matter. It took all my strength not to shrink when he reached for me, not to jerk away when he moved to help me stand. "Where are we going now?"

"The basement, to my laboratory. I have something I want to show you."

Strange instruments, musty smells, old, yellowing scrolls - I knew it all. I'd been born and bred in research - from working with my father as a tot to my Apprenticehood here. It shouldn't have frightened me, the sights and sounds and smells closer to me than my own family, but they did. Bolor kept his arm around me - trying to comfort me, perhaps, in his own way - and only made my stomach churn. I hate skirting around like this, from place to secret place…

"Now, listen to me." Bolor tugged me inside just a little too harshly, his eyes flashing dark as he doublechecked the lock behind him. Our laboratories were separate, to allow for quiet experimentation and the walls were thick, impenetrable stone. I'm trapped. But I've been here with him, so many times before…

"What I want to show you is revolutionary. It has been my work for decades, and I have been forced to keep it hidden." Disgust dripped from his words. "All because of their blindness, their idiocy. Working on nothing but dissection and lessons has been torture for me. If it weren't –" I gasped when he clasped my hands, squeezing them tight, "if it weren't for you, I'd have left long ago.

"Bolor," I croaked, wanting to pull away as I had when we'd first met, when I'd first feared what might be on his hands. Then, I'd feared sickness. Now, I feared blood. "What is it? What have you done?"

"I've created something brilliant!" He let me go and swept past, voice a hiss but seething with fire. He moved from sight, into the darkness of his closet, and –

Oh. Oh, whatever was in that closet, it wasn't robes. I froze at the smell, coughing quietly and edging towards him. Chemical and rotting and – and –

"This is it, Dust." Bolor smiled ever so softly, eyes shadowed. "Meet my dear friend. Say hello, my dear."

The thing was rotted, rotted and moving and I shuddered as it moved its arm – offering the slick, splintered remains of a hand. It's eyes – her eyes – were glassy bright, untouched by years of decay, her jaw trembling like my own.

"Undead." I stared, unmoving. "You raised the dead."

"Pah! Simple necromancy. There is more to her. My sweet," I jerked, for a moment, thinking he spoke to me, but the – the thing turned instead, its head creaking and long hair clinging to her rotted back. "Show Dust what you are. Show what you can do."

I squeaked at the scream of fire, the sudden blast of heat and scorch mark left upon the wall. A zombie. A zombie that can work magick. I shuddered, turning back to him, it, them.

"Do you see the eyes? I restored them myself before resurrecting her, teaching her." Bolor whispered as though telling me a childhood secret, excited like a child. "She can see, Dust, she can think. Zombies are creatures of automatic response, hardly more than shuffling innards, but she is sentient. She is the next step to resurrecting humans from the dead whole."

No. No. No. Bolor caressed the thing's cheek before it turned to me, eyes unblinking, jaw creaking. Speaking. A slow, creeping croak – help me.

"She's in pain." I whispered. My tears broke at last as I shuddered, stepping away from it, her, who was she?

"Naturally. But I couldn't wait any longer to see what she could do." Bolor smirked, a wolfish grin. "She's incredible, isn't she? The old eyes had to be replaced, of course, but – "

"Replaced."

"Yes, with another's. Fresh. They remain so, now." Bolor moved towards me, closing the distance between us in a stride. "Can't you see? I am working on immortality, Dust, on the ultimate magicka."

"No."

"Yes. Please, Dust, you must understand. You have such a brilliant mind, such an open mind – " A pause, eyes darkening. "Such an open heart. We don't need this school, or their binds. Leave with me."

"Dust! Are you down there?"

Bolor jerked, eyes narrowing at Tar-Meena's call. "Don't respond."

"They sent me to watch you." I snapped at last, the words spilling from my lips, burning in my throat. "Ocato sent me to spy on you. He said – you are corrupt. You are."

A dead silence, broken by Bolor's whisper. "I should have known."

"Please, Bolor, we don't need this." I no longer tried to hold up any sign of courage, gasping through sobs. "Stop this. They'll let you stay, I know they will, if you just – just stop. I'll convince them. Please, Bolor." I met his gaze, hiccupping.

For an instant, a sweet instant, I saw a flicker of hope. A flicker of kindness, of regret in his eyes, the crimson eyes I'd come to love so dearly.

Then, the hiss of magicka, and all went black.