A/N: This chapter has undergone minor revisions since I released the final chapter of this story. Keep in mind, revised chapters may be inconsistent with earlier reviews and author's notes (A/N) of unrevised chapters.

Mid Year 1, 4E1

The great thing about Cyrodiil, at least in terms of day-time travel, was how clear and unobstructed everything was. Even with the massive distance between me and the island the city lied on, I could still get a great view of some of Cyrodiil's most legendary constructions as our boat gently glided across the water. I was truly in awe. Riding across such pure, clean, reflective water and eyeing the magnificent white-gold towers made me wonder if I would wake up to find myself in a bed in Argonia. The imaginations and ingenuity of their constructors seemed to be beyond compare. Trying to intuitively compare their size to anything I'd seen before was impossible.

I knew those circular city walls incased some other famous buildings as well, including the Temple of the One, the location of the battle that finally stopped Dagon's invasion, after which the locals built a statue of one of their "Gods" at the site in honor of the victory or something like that: Learns-fast never really told me the whole story, so obviously the details were unimportant.

As I stared at the city walls, I realized I'd never viewed something at such a great distance before, except the endless expanses of the Southern oceans. The patterns made visible by looking at the city from such a distance were truly fascinating as well.

It was starting to dawn on me what had always held back the kingdom of Argonia from becoming something as expansive and powerful as Cyrodiil. The constant organic obstructions in our country inhibited anything we did from growing to its true potential. Maybe this has been Cyrodiil's secret to success. Room to expand? Lack of competition with other life forms for every inch of land?

The rhythmic rowing, the consistent and gentle lapping of water against its side, and the warmth cast by the evening sun all seemed to blend together very placidly. The city itself was walled, like Leyawiin, but the walls were taller and curved. Again, what they'd accomplished with stone was truly mind-boggling. It was hard to imagine even digging that much rock out of the earth, let alone constructing it into a curved and "one-piece" wall.

I shifted my focus to the other buildings outside the central area of the city. I was now looking at the Arcane University, the most prestigious Mages Guild facility in all of Tamriel. I had pictured it to be bigger, though I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the distance I was viewing it from, so perhaps it was bigger than it seemed from my current location.

But, as we rowed a bit further, I noticed something encroaching on the peaceful blend of sight and sound. A subtle stink. I looked towards the front of the boat, passed the rower, and noticed how close we were to the crescent shaped island the waterfront slums lied on. As we got closer, I could tell that was where the smell was coming from.

The front of the boat glided on the sandy shores briefly before the friction slowed it to a halt.

I'd already paid the boat rower ten septims, and knew this is where I was to get off. I stood up, startling myself briefly as the boat shifted under my weight. Then, recovering my balance, I picked up the cargo I had taken with me. I stretched my right leg to the shore, careful not to get my shoes wet.

The boat driver dug the paddles deep into the sand before forcefully pushing the boat back into the lake water, returning it to its intended, more comfortable environment. He had told me I was on my own finding a way back across the lake, but I knew a place like this probably had another boat-rower for hire.

The capital of Cyrodiil, the capital of the Empire, the center of arcane knowledge, and yet home to the poorest slums in the whole province. The Imperial City was quite a place to carry out my first contract.

The district was exposed to the evening sun, coating the pavement in golden light and warmth as I walked.

What parts of this area were crafted by nature were beautiful; a mix of white sands, rolling green hills, and shining water were all visible from where I stood. Yet what was crafted by humans was not so pleasing to the senses. The waterfront district smelled bad, and anywhere you looked you could see at least one piece of litter.

Beggars were abundant, their clothing as dirty and rugged as everything else in the district. Some seemed to be following other pedestrians, continuously trying to change their minds about lending them coins. Others were simply sitting on the pavement.

I passed by one as I walked, making an effort to keep my eyes straight forward as if he didn't have my attention yet, though he was on my mind as I walked. I didn't want to give the idea I was eager to hand out coins. My mind went into a state of concentration, analyzing the distance between us and how that played into his likelyhood of pestering me while I passed him.

"Just one coin." the beggar pleaded feebly as I got close. Now that he asked, I realized I had a decision to make unlike any I had made before: in Argonia, the royalty managed any aid we would give to the worthy tribals and my job was only to snuff out the corrupt and dangerous ones. Here, I suddenly realized, I'd need to rethink a lot of my old habits.

Though my instinct to keep walking held precedence, I noticed I had caught myself in an untimely moral predicament. I tried to juxtapose the logic behind donating and not donating, but it was difficult to think about something when my emotions kept shifting my thoughts elsewhere, knocking down what constructions of logic I could create in my mind. I continued walking, trying to think, but it all felt half-hearted.

Soon I was closer to the ship than I was to the beggar, and knew I shouldn't turn back. Somehow I felt glad it was too late to change my mind. Was this how independence felt? Though I knew I should stop thinking about it, the beggar-decision seemed mysteriously stuck in my mind. I knew I should just tack the subject into my memory for consideration later, but somehow I couldn't get the idea of shoving those thoughts aside to feel right. It was extremely frustrating, but I had to try. I knew in this new world I was sure to encounter more dilemmas which I hadn't devoted a spec of time to think about in Argonia.

" The pirates have been moving a lot of cargo onboard lately. You may be able to smuggle yourself onboard in one of the packing crates." I recalled were Vincenti Valteri's exact words, doing my best to tare myself away from my previous thoughts. I didn't know about smuggling myself on board, but the first part was certainly correct. There were three pirates who were not onboard the ship as far as I could see. Two were men moving one of the crates, both holding opposite sides of it as they walked towards the ship, the one walking backwards taking care to not mis-step as he approached the stairs. The other was a woman, seemingly standing guard. Her eyes were facing front, her face expressionless, her stance straight, and a sword strapped to her waist like all the others.

I started walking in a direction which would give me a better view of the ship. As I walked past the female pirate my mind was in the same state as when I walked past the beggar.

I tried to look casual as I observed the ship and the cargo with quick glances, not daring to check to see if she was watching me. There was still a large amount of cargo they had left to put onboard, but I noticed something more promising at the ship's front; A balcony was extending from a room in the ship's interior. As I glanced at the rocky shore near it, it seemed plausible that, if I chose where to stand carefully, I could jump to the balcony.

This seemed to be more logical than the approach Vincenti had suggested; The balcony extended from a room directly under the ship's steering wheel, so the Captain's cabin would no doubt be nearby. Smuggling myself on board, on the other hand, would likely put me no where near the Captain's room, and require me to remove the contents of one of the crates first, which would no doubt draw attention. Which approach to use seemed clear.

I knew I should wait for nightfall, as, at that time, the Captain would most likely be in his cabin, and I would have the company of the shadows.

Now that I'd used all the time I could to take seemingly casual glances at the ship and its cargo, I turned and began to walk in a different but non-specific direction.

With the pirates none the wiser, I felt immensely satisfied with clarity and fluency with which the logical plan came to me. After all, I wouldn't be trusted with that much freedom of proceedure in Black Marsh.

I gauged a good time to return to the docks would be in about seven hours. In the meantime, I had the whole city to keep me occupied and a lot I should think on.