Mid Year 25, 4E1

(Fights-up-close): Cheydinhal Sanctuary

I laid in bed. I didn't know how long it had been, nor did I care. My urge to start the new day was non-existent. I didn't feel the familiar eagerness to embark on walks through the city of Cheydinhal, to train, to have conversations with family members, or even eat breakfast. I felt nothing but a coating of bitterness and mistrust over everything I did. But in bed I was doing next to nothing, so next to nothing I did could remind me of what had happened. I was happier that way.

My eyes were closed, so right now everyone must have just thought I was sleeping late. I would occasionally consider getting up, remembering the whimsical atmosphere the sanctuary once brought me, only to have the reality of the situation slap me in the face again. This wasn't some game, something I was doing out of boredom and could escape; Goes-in-heavy died a traitor. That would forever taint my existence.

I was in my own little world about this issue. I felt uncomfortable telling anyone exactly what happened, despite all the pain and afterthought it was causing me. It had been the main focus of my very being since it happened, but I felt like I couldn't tell them. I told them only that Goes-in-heavy was a traitor and tried to escape. Maybe it was because I was afraid another family member might turn on us, or that they may suspect me to be likely of treachery now that I'd spoken to "Scar-tail". I was becoming more and more secluded, because I was less and less sure there was anyone I could trust. I had seen how the concept of faith had betrayed me. Now I desired a new image for myself. I would no longer want to think of myself as a proud and loyal splinter cell, but a sharp and ever-aware cynic. Be proud not for the people I worked with, but for the ability to watch my own back. I'd have to become harder, and colder than I was before. I'd have to treat every family member with caution, no longer with faith. I'd have to step back and look at things logically now. But would logic help at all? Even when I took time to examine the logic of the situation, I could see no reason for Goes-in-heavy's treachery unless what he said were true.

Then I heard footsteps. I hoped they would get quieter, but no, they were getting louder. I knew my peace was soon to be disturbed. Someone was coming to wake me back to the crushing reality. Whatever they were going to task me with, I knew it would feel like a tedious chore now. I could stand the hunger pains in my stomach that resulted from not getting up to eat breakfast, but coming back to the real world was something I deeply dreaded.

I felt a confirming gentle touch on my shoulder. But no amount of gentleness could have made it anything short of a rude awakening. I stirred a bit, pretending I had been asleep. I heard the sound of another tear drop on my pillow, which always started to seep out when I lied down to close my eyes. It had become as natural as sweating now.

"Fights-up-close," Ocheeva said "I think you should get up now. Besides, I have an important task waiting for you."

(Mathieu Bellamont): Outside of Wayrest, High Rock

I was alone, walking up the hill to the cave over-looking Wayrest, which Mr. Arius used as his personal headquarters. And when I was alone, the painful memories would flood back. In the back of my mind was the most horrible archive of memories anyone had, just waiting to flood out when I wasn't busy. The memory of the killing Blanchard made me shutter at my own stupidity, the memory of leaving my journal in Cheydinhal when I was rushed to High Rock constantly haunted me with fear of its possible discovery, and memories of my Mother so unhesitantly slain filled me with hate. That's all it ever was; tension and anger.

First the memories just called to me vaguely, taunted me from afar. I knew there was only one way to eliminate them for the time being. I had to take them head on, let them seep into my mind. Confront their wretchedness until I desensitize myself to them so I could have a moment's peace. I cringed as the memories of the fateful night came back to me, tearing me from the inside out. I pushed my teeth against each other, and then, wildly trying to escape the pain, did the only thing I knew I could.

"Oblivion take them oblivion take me I hate them for what they did and its all dead and they aren't so they must be and that's what I'll do because that's what we all do." I said, it made no sense, and I knew it, but I was trying to desperately to escape the waves of pain and bad memories that was forever cursed to wash over me. The memories were choking me once again. "Its okay, Mother, I can do this." I said, trying to deny my own loneliness in a world of people I could never truly befriend. "I've made it this far, Mother." Slowly calming my own nerves.

My breathing had grown heavy through the thoughts. I knew I had to calm down though. I'd already made the mistake of acting on the fuel of anger, taking "advantage" of that moment of fearlessness and confidence that came with my hate to kill Blanchard, and it had cost my mission so dearly. Everything had to be done so carefully. They were so powerful. By the Nine, did I want to fool myself the Dark brotherhood was the true victim, and that they were living in my shadow, but it wasn't true. I almost wanted to believe my hate was unjustified, just so this constant waiting wouldn't seem so disgustingly unjust.

I knew I had to withdraw myself from my thoughts as knocked on the large, half stone which blocked the entrance to Arius's sanctuary. It sunk into the floor shortly after I did. Belarius Arius, Speaker for the High Rock sanctuary, was eager to see me. He should have been, as he went all the way to Cyrodiil to find an assassin of my caliber to serve as his Silencer, despite that this was only my second assignment for him.

He smiled, and stepped aside gesturing me to come in. I forced a smile back, but my anger had been reawaken during my walk over hear, and I was shaking from the urge to beat his vile body to something barely recognizable as human. I'd had this same macabre fantasy before. I wanted to kill him without a weapon; I wanted to put every bit of my own strength and soul into the kill.

I absent-mindedly sat down on one of the chairs provided in the dimly lit cave. I noticed he was holding something, though. A book: Red Crater it was titled.

"Mathieu, are you aware of an authoress by the name of Quill-Weave?" A flash of familiarity accompanied the words, but that was it, so I shook my head 'no'. I couldn't associate the name with anything more than some kind of accomplishment.

"Ah, as I expected. Either way, she must be killed. She interviewed one of our subjects for this book, and has provided an account far too accurate and detailed. This puts us in danger. As my Silencer, I am giving you the assignment to kill her in our name. Your duties will take you to back Cyrodiil. We know she resides in the Port town of Anvil there. Unfortunately, she travels often. Nonetheless, you should start your search there."

Back to Cyrodiil. The site of my first murder, where my ironic mission began. The site where I'd left my original journal after I'd been rushed to High Rock to serve as this man's Silencer. The site of Lucien Lachance himself. The mere name of the place filled me with tension and anger once again. But there, perhaps, I could set these worries right. This was my chance. I saw the potential this trip to Cyrodiil had. So much potential with so little time to plan would make it all the more stressful, but I could do it, Mother.

"As you wish, Speaker." I responded, pushing the passionless words out of my mouth. Ever since the Black Hand began to suspect a traitor, I always thought out my words very carefully before speaking, saying nothing that would give factual reason to generate suspicion or anger.

The Speaker smiled, stood up, and gave me a parting bow. "Sithis is master. All hail our dread." He said matter-of-factly, in simple, irritating Dark piety.

I was getting close. What once seemed too far off and fantastical to be true, but too necessary to be a dream was becoming more of a reality. Soon the real tests, and the real revenge, would begin.

(Fights-up-close): Cheydinhal Sanctuary

Ocheeva watched as I chewed and swallowed my breakfast, swallowing it like medicine instead of food. I was trying desperately to hold back tears: a task which drained me whenever I was awake. This made me extra conscious of my own blinking. I wanted privacy so badly; a place of rest for my exhausted soul, but I knew behaving abnormally would make them ask questions.

When the last bit was done, Ocheeva began, as she said she would.

"In the Imperial City there lives a High Elf who must be removed from existence. Finding this person may prove...challenging. Are you interested?" I really couldn't imagine having much of a choice about the matter. I nodded, fearing signs of my anguish would show in my voice. Now that I'd decided to hide it, I refused to stop; they'd know I was guilty of deceit, and then I would lose some of their trust.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist!" Ocheeva said, obviously showing no understanding of how I was feeling. "Your target is a High Elf named Feanlean. He lives somewhere in the Imperial City and fancies long walks. Unfortunately, that's all we know. We don't know which district he calls home, which establishments he frequents, or anything about his schedule."

Then something hit me. For a split second, there was hope, and happiness, as I realized something that might help sort my thoughts out about all that was happening. This next contract would be a real chance to prove Goes-in-heavy's words wrong if I examined the circumstances carefully enough, maybe find peace for the war of thought in my head. It would help, but it wouldn't bring him back. Nothing would. The reality hit me hard again. I wanted so vehemently to defy it, but such was obviously impossible. At least now I had a reason to be slightly hopeful about something.

"This contract will require a bit of detective work. I suggest you ask your fellow Brothers and Sisters and see if they can offer any advice. Ah yes, there is one more thing. The Imperial City is also home to an Imperial Legion Captain named Adamus Philida. Do you know who that is?"

I decided to speak, breaking my silence which I'd recently become so accustomed to "I've heard the name, but that's about it." My voice sounded a bit odd even to me, but made me feel more present.

"Philida has dedicated his life to eradicating the Dark brotherhood, and he becomes rather irate when our duties take us to the Imperial City. When that happens, he tends to make our lives uncomfortable. Let's not give the good Captain any reason to go poking around in our affairs, hmm? If possible, do away with Feanlean somewhere out of the way. A secure location, definitely indoors, with no witnesses. This will make it look like a simple murder. Philida will be none the wiser, and you'll receive a nice bonus." Ocheeva said in a very casual manner. I couldn't help but feel conflicted about getting out of the sanctuary today, but, in a way, I was glad I had little choice in going back into the outside world. It would mean an odd to that frustrating war of intuition and logic that took place in my head.

A/N: I know these releases are getting shorter and shorter, but this isn't because I want that to become the new trend. The plot just seems to be moving quicker now.