A/N: This chapter has undergone minor revisions since the release of the final chapter of this story. Note revised chapters may be inconsistent with reviews and with author's notes from unrevised chapters.

Second Seed 30, 4E1

With my stomach full, and my throat no longer sore with thirst, I got up from the stool.

I exited the Inn, and was greeted by the fiery colored sky and cool air. My arrival in Cheydinhal had been timely; I knew from my studies of Cyrodiil that goblins tended to hunt on the roads after sun-down.

The city was just as amazing as Leyawiin if not more so, with each house filled with intricately woven stone, metal, and glass for nothing more than decorative elements.

I looked down at my compass. At the moment, I was facing North, and I was at the West side of the city. I had not forgotten the sanctuary was by the Eastern town wall. As I walked in that direction, I closely surveyed my surroundings.

The design of the city itself was interesting, as it all seemed to be built with artistic elements in mind. Even the county-owned property, like the bridges, had their supports constructed in fancy patterns and painted in elaborate colors. Similarly, the castle was majestically seated on a hill, making use of Cyrodiil's warped terrian to capture the symbolism of power perfectly.

This city would probably become what Gideon was back in Argonia to me, so I was careful to observe the location of nearby shops. Like most stores in Cyrodiil, they had some seemingly random names which weren't very helpful, like "The March Rider".

As I had now seen a significant part of the city, I noticed it seemed all the houses here were large. There didn't seem to be any class divide between the various parts of town. Cyrodiil sure was rich in wonder: Leyawiin, Bravil, Cheydinhal, they all could have been from completely different provinces.

Yet as I continued to walk, I noticed that even though the town seemed rather wealthy, it seemed to posses plenty of beggars; more so than Bravil, in fact. They were the only people on the streets at the hour, in fact, making the town seem slightly eerie.

I'd given my stiff legs the kind of work they'd gone twelve hours without. Now I could see the Eastern wall, and distinguishing the abandoned house was far easier than expected. Pieces of the stone wall around it were missing, and one of the windows was broken and borded up, causing the house to look particularly unwelcoming. This was no doubt the house Mr. Lachance was referring to, but I felt slightly apprehensive to enter. The thought of some sort of trap briefly crossed my mind. But why? Obviously they'd never harm me intentionally. I still couldn't see why, of all places, this would be the location of a sanctuary, though.

I looked over my shoulder as I approached the house. No one was watching, but I still dearly wanted eyes in the back of my head. Everywhere I turned, my mind started conjuring up images of someone watching me from whatever area I wasn't facing.

Though it took some courage to do so, I opened the door and entered, shedding some light on the interior of the house. It was full of cob-webs, with pottery and tables tipped onto the floor, like a fight had gone on.

I stepped in, but I was uneasy about closing the door. I'd plunge myself into the unknown at that point, and I couldn't help but fill my head with ideas of dangers that had even the remotest chance of lying inside the house.

I closed the door and ran through all mental steps necessary for transforming my vision into "night-eye" mode, cutting through the task of imagining several different abstract concepts like a hot knife through butter due to my keen, fear-born concentration.

I knew where the door to the basement was, but I still felt spooked by the surroundings. I listened with excruciating concentration for any suspicious noises, almost daring someone, or something to jump out at me unexplainably.

I opened the door to the basement and felt myself go numb for a second, wondering what lay on the other side.

Again, however, it was nothing threatening. Just more darkness, wreckage, and cob-webs. Even so, I couldn't shake the bad feeling I was getting. An abandon, half-destroyed house in the middle of town? Being asked an unknown question and answering "Sanguine, my brother,"? Even with the night-eye effect present, I still felt like I was wondering in the dark in a deeper sense. It felt like forces beyond comprehension were toying with me.

Across from the stairs, there was a large hole in the wall of the basement, which seemed to lead to a cave, but it looked like the hole had been forged with brute force. I was tempted to reach for my dagger, just to feel safer, but there was an emotional pull not to break the silence or acknowledge my fear, almost as if whatever evil was present would feed on it.

I had only gotten a few steps into the cave before I came around a bend and saw a light. It stung my eyes in their "night-eye" state. I quickly released the magicka from my eyes to restore my vision to normal.

I blinked a few times as my view was now smothered in odd colors.

Then I looked at the area the glow had emanated from once again. It appeared to be a door with a picture drawn in glowing red lines. An odd picture, which was, as best I could tell, a giant woman holding a dagger above some crudely drawn people. The door seemed promising. Now to carry out Mr. Lachance's odd instructions. It was the fact that my superiours wanted me here that helped cut through the fear.

I approached the door and rattled the handle, breaking the sacred silence.

If this torture of uncertainty would end, it would be soon. I could feel a prickling sensation as I waited, filled with suspense.

"What is the color of night?" An Argonian sounding female voice asked from the other side of the door, at last adding the feeling of human company I so desired in the wrecked, dusty house. Her voice wasn't crystal clear through the stone, of course, but clear enough so I could understand her.

I knew what Lachance had told me to do next, but it still felt completely wrong rolling off my tongue "Sanguine, my...brother."

The door opened, revealing a smiling, spiked face in tight black armor. I felt a momentary bliss as I realized everything had turned out fine after all, and felt like I could laugh at my previous feelings.

"Greetings, greetings, its me, Stabber, mistress of this sanctuary." She said. Yes, she left Gideon four years ago. "Lucien has told me all about your arrival!" It seemed almost...crude to refer to our overseer by his first name, but her bubbily manner made it clear that wasn't her intention. "It is always a pleasure to welcome another Shadowscale into our ranks! Truly, your skills will be valued and appreciated by Sithis here as they were by our nation! You stand now in our Cyrodiil sanctuary. May it serve as a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises." She said, then turned to her right and stretched out her arm, gracefully gesturing me to come in. I stepped in, briefly surveying the dimly lit brick room ahead. "When you're ready for work, go and speak with Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members. He will have for you a contract and a uniform. But I've kept you long enough, Vincente Valtieri is waiting. Go now, dear child, and may Sithis go with you."

"Thanks," I said, beginning my life in the sanctuary on a good note. The feeling of comradery and unification through cause I had experienced back in Argonia was still present here. Conversing with Stabber felt a bit more forced and dry than it would have four years ago in Gideon, but I supposed it stood to reason after years apart. Soon enough things would be back to normal, and our experiences and feelings would blend together through conversation just fine.

I stepped deeper into the sanctuary. It had a low ceiling, which made sense given it was under a city. Under a city. It was a fascinating idea, something one would never hear about in a swamp like Argonia.

It was made completely of stone. A few torches hung on the wall, though the area still had more than a few shadows. Nothing an assassin was uncomfortable with, of course. The room branched out in a total of four directions, including the direction I just came from.

I reflected on her words; "When you're ready for work..." I wasn't sure what constituted "ready" here, but I got the impression from all I'd heard about these transfers that the Brotherhood could afford to be a bit more liberal about the whos, hows, and whens of the tasks it handed its members.

Eager to take the weight off my shoulders, I dropped my back-pack by one of the stone pillars. I glanced around the sanctuary for any other members. In one of the corners of the room, which had been made into a small reading area, there was another Argonian, though most of his face was shrouded due to his hood and my angle of view. His mind was immersed in whatever he was reading, I could tell, but I decided to approach him anyway, if only to ask about Vincenti. He seemed to hear me approaching, and initiated the conversation.

"You are Argonian, yes? The newest Shadowscale, then." I nodded, and he shifted the language of the conversation "I wish to welcome you to our family, and to this sanctuary. May you find yourself at home here, in the loving embrace of our lady, the Night Mother."

"Thanks. I went through a heck of a lot to get here, Cleaver." I replied, remembering who he was as soon as I noticed the similarities in his face with that of Ocheeva's.

"Ah, you remember me, then." He said, half jokingly, laughter in his voice. Of course I'd never forget their names or behaviour in Gideon, but four years completely apart did set up a sense of divide would require my mind to slightly recalibrate to their voices and appearance. "It's been four years, right?"

"Probably," I replied, then remembered something else which had been in my thoughts. There was a lot going through my mind after today's events "It must be awfully hard to keep this sanctuary secret. Doesn't a house like this draw a lot of attention?"

"Actually," he began "I've heard the Count of Cheydinhal knows about this sanctuary. But he is offered much gold as well as other...incentives to keep his mouth shut." Then seemed to reflect briefly on this before adding "In fact, it was Stabber's assignment to kill Llathasa once word to started to leak out that made her mistress of this sanctuary."

Must have been awkward for him to see his twin sister advance so much beyond him. I was going to ask who Llathasa was when I realized how side-tracked I'd gotten.

"Listen, do you know where to find Vincenti Valtieri? Is he expecting me?" I asked.

"Ah, eager to get to work, are you?" He asked.

"Not really." I responded. I was ready to take it easy after the long ride.

"I'm sure any contract he has can wait. I know what a long trip you had to take." He responded. Those words were so liberating I couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks," I responded "I guess I'll go meet the others."

The good feeling and friendly words of the conversation continued to ring in my head. Talking to the Shadowscale still felt a bit like talking to a stranger, but soon things would be back to the way they were in Gideon. Now to meet my new friends.

I opened the first set of doors I came across, then down the stairs, around the corner, and through the hallway it led to until I came to what appeared to be the sleeping area, dining area, and kitchen all nicely enough organized into one room. There were probably about twelve beds, though I knew that number would be greater than the amount of occupants.

As I observed the room, a Khajiit in green and brown robes walked from behind a pillar, hauling a large bag, which made a low pitched jingle when he walked. Whatever he was doing, he didn't look happy about it, and seeing me didn't change that.

"Well, if it isn't the newest member of the family." He said, and I could instantly tell from his facial expression the conversation wouldn't be fun. "Let's get one thing straight; the Tenets prevent me from killing you, true, but I don't have to like you. I'll sell you equipment, but only because Ocheeva is making me! The Brotherhood doesn't need anymore...outsiders." I knew he wasn't happy, but the hostility of his reaction had been so unexpected it threw off my mind. As violated as I felt, no decent response came to me, just a question.

"Outsiders?"

"Shadowscales," he scoffed, half to himself "You're no children of Sithis, just crafted by twenty years of training. I don't care if Ocheeva wants to hear that! Now if you're here to buy or sell something, get on with it already!"

"Like I'd buy anything from you..." I responded, the best comeback I could think of at the moment, unfortunately.

As he walked away, better comebacks started rushing through my head. While I was in my own little world, someone else came into the room. Human, her words startled me before I turned to face her.

"Welcome, sister. So good to finally meet you." She said, leaning in to shake my hand heartily with both of hers, though my hand was limp in my distracted state. My mind was still trapped in the previous conversation "I hope you're getting along alright." I wondered if that was a reference to the Khajiit I'd just met. Either way, it wasn't an issue I felt like bringing up at the moment, not wanting to confess anyone could successfully get under my scales.

"Hi," I said simply, not feeling comfortable with a lie or a truth.

"Well," she said "I'm Antoinette Marie. I'm sure you'll like the others."

"Fights-up-close." I responded. There was a brief silence between us before she spoke again.

"I'll be seeing you then." She said, walking towards the kitchen area to browse the cabinets.

I decided to continue touring, though I kept playing the Khajiit's words in my head. I wondered where he was at the moment, and what his words would be if he saw me again. "Outsiders" was the part that troubled me the most; though I couldn't bring myself to feel he actually believed those words, I hoped he couldn't convince others of such a thing. Unfortunately, I was starting to feel more like I was working out a battle plan than taking a tour.

Returning to the first room in the sanctuary, I walked across to the other door.

Opening it revealed a training room. Not quite as intricate as the one I had back home, unfortunately. It contained only crude and generic dummies and archery targets from what I could see; nothing like the props the Shadowscales used, which were both more realistic, and built for more specific skills. Like the other rooms in this sanctuary, it was square, but with its corners smoothed off and two thick pillars which blocked my view of the majority of the room upon entry. To my left, I could hear the sound of some kind of projectile colliding with a loose surface. On my right, I could hear a noise I couldn't quite associate with anything I yet knew of, and an odd light pulse on that side of the wall in synchrony with the sound: magic of some sort was my best guess, though nothing like the kind I'd ever seen a Shadowscale use.

I began to walk around the perimeter of the room, starting towards the right.

I noticed one of the occupants was an archer. She turned around as I approached, immediately ceasing her practice and politely making time to talk to me.

"Warmest welcomes to you. I am Telandril, Wood Elf, and loyal daughter of Sithis. I hope you find this sanctuary to your liking." She said. 'Wood elf', I'd have to remember that. I'd been having trouble keeping all those terms straight. Her voice sounded slightly accented, and I wondered if she wasn't native to Cyrodiil.

"Fights-up-close," I responded "Thanks. I'm really looking forward to working here. Cyrodiil's going to take a bit of work getting used to, though. Did you grow up here?"

"No, and, in truth, I miss the towering elms of my native Valenwood, but I was banished from there long ago for deeds I do not care to discuss. This is my home now."

I thought briefly about the Gideon headquarters and did feel a slight nostalgia. I had to wonder if that was just the power of suggestion, though. Either way, it might be nice to have someone I could sort of relate to, and the diversity of this province certainly made it interesting. Learning about the Cyrodiillic language and culture before coming here fascinated me. I was sure the same could apply to the other provinces of the Empire, which I knew nothing about.

The door behind me opened and who ever came in caught Telandril's attention, whose smile extended. I turned to see who it was. He was an Orc, very tall, with his head almost scrapping the top of the doorway as he walked on, clad in shining armor with a smile just as bright.

"Welcome! Welcome, my newest sister!" He said as he saw me "I'd give you a hug, but Ocheeva told me not to!" I could hear a small chuckle coming from Telandril's direction. He was certainly an odd sight in full metal armor with what appeared to be an axe strapped to his back. As far as stealth went, both items couldn't have been worse choices.

"I know what you're thinking," He said, grinning "That's Gogron! He's too big to be sneaky. Well, you're right! I like to just go in and hack my targets to pieces! Hah!" seeming somewhat amused by his own attitude, as was I.

"Fights-up-close," I introduced myself, starting to get used to the odd sensation of my own name rolling off my tongue. Feeling comfortable enough in their presence, I felt like continuing the conversation for its own sake "I had to come all the way from Argonia to get here. Its going to be odd to call Cyrodiil home from now on."

"Well, you know what they say..." Gogron commented with boyish eagerness "home is where you hang your enemy's head!" Simply talking to them had helped to nullify the feelings the Khajiit had caused me. An enthusiastic mood for our organization and its job made me feel better to be here. Surprisingly, I actually felt more connected in their company than I did in Ocheeva's or Tienaava's today.

"That's a nice way to think of it." I said half jokingly before the doors to the main room opened once again.

The person who entered was a new and surprising sight. His face was pale and gaunt as a skeleton, and his irises pink, yet he walked with the confidence and energy of anyone else, perhaps more so. For a second, he seemed like a very morbid sight, but that sensation faded almost instantly. His state did not seem to phase Gogron either, who now turned to face the odd man.

"Gogron, if I may have a word with you?" he said. I was entranced with fascination.

"Of course, but are you sure you don't want to meet our newest family member first?" He asked, then gestured towards me. I could tell the man hadn't previously taken notice of me.

"Ah, my apologies. Your name is...?" He asked me.

"Fights-up-close," I replied "Glad to meet you."

"Warmest greetings to you." He responded, and I felt happy in the midst of such friendliness "I trust you've already spoken with Ocheeva? I am Vicente Valtieri. I provide assignments for all new family members." I noticed something when he spoke. Something about his teeth seemed off, though I couldn't decide exactly what it was about them "Please, do not let my appearance…unnerve you. The needs and tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire."

Vampire...I had heard about the disease a few times, but never actually seen someone who'd been inflicted. This seemed like an appropriate line of work for someone like that, I supposed. One didn't need to worry about the daylight or finding blood to drink when one was about to spill some to begin with. It was nice to know he worked out a life that meshed so well with his infection.

"I'm guessing your not...contagious?" I asked. Though the word was fine in a technical sense, it seemed funny when referring to something like vampirism.

He laughed a bit, "Well, I'm sure you won't become this way if we share a mug. I know. I was stricken with vampirism three-hundred years ago on an expedition deep into the ashlands of Vvardenfell."

I'd heard vampires could live a long time. If he had been living for over one-hundred years, he would certainly be fascinating to talk to, but three-hundred years...that opened up a whole plethora of questions; how did life feel after witnessing three-hundred years of change? I listened with a thirst for knowledge about his life.

"For one-hundred years I hunted in secret," he continued "until the Dark Brotherhood found me. Now I have a family that accepts and even values my unique gifts." I was slightly worried that I had offended by asking him if it was contagious, like it was a sickness. His view on vampirism was certainly interesting. Everyone seemed to think outside the box a bit more here. "Perhaps, in the future, when I feel you have earned the right, I will allow you the chance to become a hunter of the night."

I briefly thought about what a painfully tough decision that would be when the time came. The decision to make an irreversible change in my body that could have three-hundred years worth of effect wasn't something I could take lightly. Would I take the offer when the opportunity came up?

But even three-hundred years of acquiring wisdom didn't allow him to read my mind the way Gogron had, as he changed the subject rather quickly, before I could further inquire about his life as a vampire.

"Now, if you're ready to get to work I have a contract ready for you. You and Gogron may both come to my office." He stated.

"I've had a really long day," I replied "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to wait until tomorrow."

"Pity." He said, briefly shifting his eyes towards the ground "I am eager to see how you fare on your first assignment." Then shifted to a more optimistic tone "The contract will be waiting when you're ready." He turned back to Gogron "Now, Gogron, if you don't mind..." gesturing the Orc to follow him.

Being offered my first contract and meeting my first vampire all in the same minute certainly was exciting. It was all so much to take in it made me forget my previous priorities. The idea of this new life seemed more intriguing than ever.

But I was reminded of "Scar-tail's" disappearance. The distress his unexpected absence had caused me prevented me from loving this new life to my full potential, as much as it crushed me to realize so.

I did my best to push these thoughts aside, as I knew I had good reason to; there was still hope to one day see him arrive in the sanctuary. For now, I'd just need to hammer that notion into my mind.