Liss swept the broom across the floorboards with long reluctant movements. The only reason that she had been accepted as a serving girl in the Black-Briar meadery was because Maven Black-Briar, the matron of the clan, had formerly had strong ties to the Dark Brotherhood, and Astrid in particular.

Liss days flew by, filled with serving fat men and women their mead, sweaping the floors and doing all kinds of slaves-work. Aside from that, she killed. Liss would spend every weekend at the market, listening, spying, chatting with one of her few friends, Brynjolf of the Thieves Guild. He always asked her if she was interested in joining the guild. Liss wanted that very much, but for the time being, she had to take care of the Dark Brotherhood. However, she got a lot of information from Brynjolf and the Thieves Guild, and the two had cooperated sometimes, helping each other with information or simple tasks.

Another major part of Liss life was being abused and taunted by Maul, Maven Black-Briars right hand. He just randomly started picking on her. Taunted her for having no parents and no honor. If only he knew that she was the last Dark Brotherhood assassin. Maul was definitely placed quite high in Liss "people-I-am-going-to-kill-whenever-I-get-to-leave-this-place-list". Of course, she fought back, but it was hard when Maul was twice her size, muscular and very good with unarmed combat.

Aside from working as a slave and being pissed off by Mauls everlasting taunting, Liss enjoyed her life as an assassin. She felt alive when she killed others. It gave her an adrenaline rush, enrichening the killing even more. When she pursued her target, she transformed into a beast. She was a wolf and the target was her prey, a helpless bunny.


Liss hated Imperials.

After all, it was the Imperials who had burned down the Falkreath Sanctuary, killing her mother Astrid. Therefore she took enormous satisfaction in contracts which required her to kill an Imperial. She fancied doing it slowly, to really show her prey that death was on their doorstep, incarnate in an otherwise innocent-looking Nord girl. Just like she had done with the Imperial ambassador. Cutting his sinew, intimidating him with the sacred words; "the Night Mother says goodbye". That was her favourite line.

However, Liss intention was not to remain the last assassin of Skyrim, no, no. Her goal was to find a place worthy of being a sanctuary, and begin recruiting new cutthroats to do the dirtywork. And with a little luck, maybe she'd even find the coffin of the Night Mother. She had a few suggestions of where it might be. Some day she would go search for it.

Liss was taking a small stroll through the marketplace. She was dressed in a fine yellow dress, leather shoes and a nice brown scarf around her neck. Listening, watching, she walked around amidst the traders and buyers. Brynjolf wasn't there, she knew. He was out on a mission. Nothing special, he had told her. Just something small.

Back at the Black-Briar Meadery, Maven immediately put her to work again.

"Get to work, Liss. I can't sweep the floor and cook dinner for the whole house at the same time, someones gotta give me a hand. And you seem good enough for that, eh?"

"Maul is strong and capable. Why can't he sweep the bloody floor for once?"

"Mind your language, girl." Maven said.

"Is the short one complaining again?" Maul had appeared in the doorway.

"Take this broom and shut up, Maul." Liss said. She knew it was not going to happen, but she felt bad about not fighting back.

"Floor-sweeping is servants work. I deserve better, midget."

That made Liss furious. She struck Maul on the knee with the broomstick. He shouted in pain.

"What in the gods are you doing, girl?!" Maven exclaimed. She struck her. One slap across the cheek. Maven was quite weak, but it hurt nonetheless. Liss cried out. She hated them both. That bitch Maven and Maul, the bastard. Sithis take them both, she thought, massaging her sore cheek, carrying on the sweeping. She knew it was only going to get worse if she kept complaining.




That night, Liss slept badly. Nightmares haunted her mind, dreams of the destruction of the sanctuary, dreams of the death of her mother.

"Child." she woke with a start. Her eyes flashed open and in the quarter of a second she was wide awake, staring up into the wooden roof. She was still dreaming. Liss appreciated these kinds of dreams, where she could not decide however she was awake or still dreaming. She closed her eyes and rolled over, attempting to fall into unconsciousness again.

"Child." The voice repeated.

"I must be going crazy." Liss said to herself, and decided that maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her. It had been quite a long time since she had eaten, she realized. A bowl of nice rabbit stew and a loaf of bread would maybe clear her thoughts. She stood up, and in her bedgown she quietly tip-toed downstairs and into the kitchen, in search for a midnight meal.

"I am not your imagination."

Liss stopped. The voice had a wheezy tone, like a whisper. It belonged to a woman. An old one.

"Who are you?" Liss said quietly. This was beginning to make her uncomfortable.

"I am the Unholy Matron, child."

"Are you..?" Liss was wondering wether this was only a dream, or if it was actually happening. Was she really speaking to the Night Mother in this very moment?

"Yes."

"But then..." thoughts were racing through Liss mind as she stood there. If the Night Mother was speaking to her, did that mean she was the Listener? No, surely this was just a dream. In a few seconds, she would wake up, laughing at her own stupidity.

"Indeed." the woman said. "I have chosen you to be my listener."

"This is just a dream, right?" Liss said.

"What makes you think that?"

"By the gods." Liss gasped. "This is not a dream, right..?"

"You shall journey to the coast outside Windhelm. Bring a horse and cart. I am waiting."

"Night Mother!" Liss said. "I shall do as I am commanded. I will find you."

And in the darkness of night, Liss changed cloathes to her shrouded set of armor, red and black, the colors of Sithis. She packed what little she had in a rucksack. Books, potions, a little food she stole from the kitchen, and the money she had gathered through all her contracts, a small fortune. She left the meadery for the last time, without looking back at it even once. She ventured to the stables, avoiding guards patrolling the area. Liss found a suitable steed, and guided by the moonlight she began her journey.

Her thoughts lingered on the meadhouse for a moment, as she sped her horse to a trot and left the city border. She had lived there her entire childhood. But it had never been home. Home is where you hang your enemys head, Elissa Nightingale reminded herself. Not a meadhouse filled with idiots.

…...