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

Sun's Height 13, 4E1

(Fights-up-close): The Nibenay Basin

The firey clouds and orange light soaking the trees reminded me it was evening, but it didn't feel like it. It just felt odd, given that I hadn't slept the night before. My mind still felt crisp, oddly, and I was using it to take in the odd text written in the book I'd bought, which I currently felt incapable of putting down. Most of it was completely unheard of to me:

Though an establishment of native government was supposedly intended to grant the Argonian tribes located in the North protection, the magnitude of the slave trade has gradually increased since the Empire's first and only attempt to do so.

I looked back up at exactly where I was riding, which I was doing periodically throughout my reading. Though the book was certainly interesting, I knew I was getting closer to Muck Valley Cavern.

I looked towards the East with a new feeling in my mind. The book had talked constantly about this Morrowind slave trade, and now I couldn't help but look to the North East with a different kind of wonder. I had only been taught Cyrodiil was a threat to Argonia. Yet now I couldn't help but imagine other enemies plotting and mobilizing against our people. Frankly, I would feel more eager to take up an assignment to do something about the slave trade than this current contract.

It seemed like the slave trade would be something the Argonian Royal Court would be heavily concerned about, but I had only one assignment near the Morrowind border, and it certainly didn't involve the slave trade. But what if it was simply because the Stormhold and Thorn sanctuaries were the primary handlers of that issue? Still, the book had said...

Then I noticed a cavern: Muck Valley Cavern. It was time to get my head back into reality. I was sucked out of my fantasies and back into my body in the three-dimensional world.

This would be the last Draconis. Then, when I made it to Chorrol, I would finally make a solid decision about my loyalties, and see if my courage would really bid me to throw away all of the life I knew. As I watched the sky, with my horse trotting carefully towards the cavern, I thought about my place on Nirn, and how I effected others, how much and how little I really was.

I dismounted from my horse. After the long ride the ground felt harder and gravity felt harsher. Now it was my turn to do the hard work.

It was certainly odd to be assassinating someone who lived in the wild. It was hard to imagine how a person who lived away from civilization could get marked. Sure, I had assassinated plenty of tribals as a Shadowscale, but they were armed and organized, and combative. Sibylla, on the other hand...well, she might have been armed, and sounded combative, but she certainly couldn't start a war, like the tribal chiefs.

The more and more I looked at the Dark Brotherhood, the less and less distorted Goes-in-heavy's views appeared to be. There was obviously a lot I didn't know about these assignments, but probably should.

Ever since Goes-in-heavy defected I'd been dancing between two states of mind, both of which seemed to change the very air I breathed when I embraced one fully: one state was distrust of my employers and the other was confidence that I was allied with the right cause. They weren't just two ways of viewing my career: they felt like two entirely different forms of consciousness. I knew, after this contract, I might finally find myself all the way in one direction. But I feared that moment. Already I got a dull anguish thinking about the fact that I had these kind of uncertainties in the first place.

(Aval Uvani): Bruma

I stared at the face of the statue carefully, trying to get that face hard-pressed into my mind. I scanned its attributes repeatedly. Though this was a face I needed to remember, the statue was another annoying reminder of exactly who it was the Black Hand thought we could recruit: a sickeningly lovable war hero and people's person. He'd provided accurate information about Philida, but I was still wondering if I was signing the Dark Brotherhood's death warrant by allowing this. Not that I would entirely mind seeing that happen; It would sure be a nice way to teach them a lesson about picking their recruits and sending me to do their dirty work.

After looking over the face several times, I decided that was enough.

I hated his kind to begin with, and if I'd ever dreamed of meeting with a Champion, it was to cut him down to size in a passionate, full force fight, not to come all the way from Balmora to assign him duties. His name seemed to be everywhere these days. Every bard I encountered was singing "The Fall of Dagon" nowadays, and I hated seeing him accumulate that sort of fame just because he fought an enemy most of Cyrodiil could agree on. It took true cunningness to outwit Cyrodillic law instead of fight for it. We were the ones who deserved respect.

As I trotted down the first set of steps, bringing me down to the mid-level area of the city, I wondered exactly how this man planned to keep a low profile in a city that had built a statue of him. It was another way this seemed ridiculous. I twitched involuntarily at the thought. There had to be some way I could get back at the Black Hand for this.

I began walking towards the opposite corner of town, where this Inn was supposed to be. All the inconvenience this Champion was causing me angered me, and that was pulling my thoughts into fantasies of revenge. Of course, I wouldn't fight him: someone else would just need to receive my anger. Right now, that's what I truly thirsted for: a battle.

I kept replaying the idiotic logic from my meeting with the Black Hand that started this all. I had an odd desire to bring back the weird feelings there words gave me, but most of all I needed to remind myself of what I should never forget: their stupidity. "With all he was able to accomplish during the Oblivion Crisis, I'm sure he can do the utmost for our organization" "I"m sure he will be a most useful spy. We will find out soon if he shall live up to our expectations with the information he's been assigned to gather. If he pleasantly surprises us we should certainly welcome him to our family." "Speaker Uvani, I beg to differ; if he's already hired us to carry out a contract, I believe he'll be more than willing to aid our endeavors." Idiots. I was always surrounded by idiots, alone in a higher world. That's probably why they needed me on the Black Hand in the first place. Being the smartest person around gave me less to fear, but so much more to be frustrated about.

The urge to destroy bubbled inside me. It was what got me into the Dark Brotherhood in the first place. Now I hoped someone would just come up to me and give me an excuse to throw a few nasty words at their face at the very least. My thoughts were trapped in the way the situation violated me. I wanted that to change. I was ready for battle. Ready to make some regret they ever met me. I was ready to unleash the best of my skills and strongest of my passions for the sake of someone else's terror.

What was truly pathetic was that the Black Hand had been planning this meeting for quite some time yet never even thought of a way to make it anymore safe or useful than the way it was planned to begin with. Their simple minds had given them an arrogant assurance that there was nothing to be concerned about. The thoughts pricked me with fury as I walked passed Bruma's Guild Halls.

I was almost eager to get back on paths after this was over and strike down another bandit. No matter what I was doing, my thoughts always found there way out of reality and went to fantasize about some way to release my anger. Even some food and drink after this long trip seemed less and less appealing the more I thought about the current circumstances. I thought about stabbing the Champion of Cyrodiil for making me go through all this, but the moment of ecstasy that fantasy gave me was drowned out by the pain that I couldn't do so.

But, as I got closer to the Inn, another emotion was coming as well: anticipation to see the face of this famous warrior. Even though I hated him, there was something enticing about seeing someone of so much fame face to face.

My focus sharpened slightly: I did know this would be a significant turning point in my career.

Finally, the city gate came into view. Olav's Tap and Tack was directly to its right. I'd have to bring myself back to reality for this moment.

The Nerevarine had already caused quite a headache for us back in Morrowind, so I couldn't help but feel more than a bit mistrustful of this "Champion" of Cyrodiil. That, and of course, anyone respected by the general public of Cyrodiil made my blood boil.

I walked towards the door to the Inn. Behind it was the Champion of Cyrodiil, apparently. To think I'd gone from being a lowly murder to these bizarre circumstances. Now it felt like I was working for an entirely different group of people.

I pushed opened the door to the Inn.

At the table there was a hooded figure, his face looking down into his mug. He perked up almost immediately after I entered however.

I was looking at the face of the Champion himself: the Dark Brotherhood's oddest recruit. I'd seen the famous face, now to hear the famous voice.

I pulled out the chair to sit opposite him. His expression was solemn and serious. He didn't greet me with a smile and that was a good thing; It wouldn't have mixed well with my mood. Now I just wanted to make sure no one heard our conversation.

Behind me, the proprietor annoyingly boomed in his deep voice "What can I..."

"You get any closer and I'll turn your bones to ash! Back off!" I spat.

"Well...alright." The proprietor said. "I...guess I'll go get some fresh air." Then turned to walk out the door.

The release felt great. My mind was now crisp and free from the fury that had ensnared. I'd had intimidated him enough to cause immediate submission. I was fully justified in the glory I felt. It was good to be the feared and fearless Aval Uvani.

I surveyed the room before turning to the "Champion", eager to face anyone else who might try to listen in.

I could see no one. The supports, planks and everything else that held the Inn together were exposed. It had a practical, rugged, masculine look to it. All I needed was a nice tavern fight to make the ambience complete.

There was no one else nearby, so I decided it was time to speak.

"So," I began "You've decided to take part in the burdens and bounties of our organization. You leaked the information we needed about that certain high-ranking Legion member, they say." I kept my words purposely vague, just incase someone might be concealed behind bare wooden walls. The Champion nodded. His expression showed little emotion, but I could sense a dull anguish behind it. Probably pre-occupied with some petty problem, while I, on the other hand, had to come all the way from Morrowind for this meeting. The shallow world everyone else must have seen I envied them for!

I continued "Well, you've proven a useful...inside source already. My associates believe you should continue on that path. You should provide us with any information about the authorities you can." I looked over my shoulder again, knowing the sensitivity of the situation, but there were no eyes upon me.

I reached into my bag and took out a large, rolled up piece of paper, then placed it infront of him. Something in me changed when I'd done that. We'd sealed our pact. "This map shows the location of our four sanctuaries, with details on how to enter each. You may defer information to any of these four locations you chose."

Finally the Champion broke his silence, "What about contracts?" He asked, in a deep, slightly coarse, but quiet voice. It took my mind a second to adjust to that voice for the famed hero. I'd always pictured him sounding different for some reason: loud and confident.

"I have none for you. You may ask the other Speakers for such opportunities, but be prepared for rejection until you have proven yourself." I stated. We'd established every point. It looked like this hurdle in my career was almost over, and gravity was already starting to win me back.

"Prove myself?" The Champion asked, almost defensively. His harsh tone angered me.

"Yes. That's what I said. Prove yourself. Normally an initiate into the Dar..." I caught myself before I might shatter the sensitive secrecy of the subject of this meeting. Having already lost myself, I started the sentence again "Normally initiation requires you to...demonstrate you are capable of our craft. You have become an exception. However, my fellow..." I began to realize just how difficult it was too talk in such broad terms "...members of our council may want to see you are capable of such a task before they agree to pay you for it."

"I see," He said. He seemed oddly uneager to talk and monotonal when he did. It was almost hard to imagine him as the Champion. He wasn't a stereotypical hero, and maybe that was a good thing.

That was the meeting. I'd met with the Dark Brotherhood's oddest, and most famous recruit. I'd completed the task I'd journeyed so many miles for and felt unexpectedly satisfied. Euphoric, even. I knew a time like this would register in my memory for quite a while.

Now I needed a place to stay for the night. I looked over my shoulder. The publican wasn't back, but I'd probably use the Jeralls View Inn anyway. This looked like a pretty crappy place to stay anyway.

I pushed out my chair. Now things didn't seem so blatantly wrong. There was something to think about. Would the Dark Brotherhood's newest recruit really be the model citizen of Cyrodiil? I guessed I'd be sleeping on that question.

(Fights-up-close): Outside of Muck Valley Cavern

The last of Sibylla's wolf pack had retreated. My armor had made the battle easy, I'd never cut down so many enemies in one battle. I was quivering in an attempt to contain the excess energy. Right now it felt like I could cut my way through anything.

As I finally walked into the night air, the breeze felt extra cold against my sweaty scales, but that was good. I felt warm otherwise. I had made a total of five kills in one run. Though only one was human, that still felt like quite an accomplishment, and the feel of the battle was still in me.

Now my armor and dagger were covered in blood and fur, though. It was a bit of a gross thought to imagine tainting my horses coat with wolf blood. I'd need to wash them off.

There was a small lake nearby, so I decided to wash my uniform off in there.

I approached the lake. Crickets chirped. The water rippled subtly. The night felt very much alive. I felt energetic and capable in mind and body as well, despite the lack of sleep.

I dipped my left foot into the water, then slowly noticed the harsh, frigid temperature of it as it seeped into my armor. I was used to swimming in warmer climates. I kept my foot still there, enduring the uncomfortable temperature for several seconds until it started to feel warm. Then I put in the next foot, this time bravely plunging it knee deep. It took some self control to keep my leg in the water. Then I took another step with my left foot, plunging it deeper. Almost half my body was submerged now, but it was plunging my upper body into the cold water that I felt a bit more apprehensive about.

I arbitrarily debated with myself about diving in all at once or continuing in little by little. Somehow, the first option won.

In a moment of courage, I forced myself deep into the frigid lake.

The lake clearly wasn't welcoming visitors, but all I could do was wait and let it do its punishment until my body had adjusted to the temperature. I hovered in place as the cold took its toll on me, then slowly transformed into warmth.

Then I swam. It had been while since I swam in the moon-light, and the first time I'd swam in the North. Another new experience for this all too alien day. Everything about me, and about the world, seemed different today.

As I swam, I began thinking about the decision that would await me. I had finished the Draconis contract and had already promised myself if I found another questionable contract in Chorrol I would leave these people once and for all. And that was all I thought about while I swam: I was thinking about this decision.

Where would I go if I decide to leave? Should I tell the authorities anything about the Dark Brotherhood? What if I stay? Would I, under any circumstance, consider betraying again if the next contract seemed more reasonable?

I had plenty of time to think about these questions, so they didn't cause me the same nervous feeling others did, thankfully. They would give me something to digest on the ride to Chorrol.

I stepped out of the lake, and was assaulted by a cold breeze. The cold was extra harsh now that I was wet. Maybe washing my uniform like that had been a bad idea: I knew I would face quite a bit of discomfort until I dried off. At the very least, I wanted to get away from the wind.

Up ahead, above the East side of the lake I could see a small, natural enclosure of trees and rocks upon a steep but short hill. It looked like a place that would be free of wind.

The water in the feet of my armor produced odd feelings and even odder, albeit subtle, squishy sounds as I walked up the steep hill. The cold was making my teeth chatter. Maybe my lack of sleep had effected my decision making.

Then, I saw something that caught greater interest with me than the current discomforts. As I journeyed up further I could see an odd anomaly in nature. Three of them actually. Some bizarre ideas ran through my head as I tried to process exactly what it was I was looking at.

When I was fully up the hill, it registered with me the anomalies were in fact three shadowed people, with only a few candles in the distance for their light. There were benches near them. Someone was trying to make this piece of the wilderness a bit more homey, but I wasn't sure why.

One of the shadowed figures, who I soon identified as a Dunmer with an iron dagger in his right hand, was approaching me. His posture and facial expression were stern but not threatening. I was more curious as to who built up little pieces of civilization in these woods than I was afraid I wasn't welcome.

"Who are you, who dares to walk in the House of Shadow? What is your business with Lady Vaermina?" He asked me. His voice neither conveyed pure innocent curiosity, nor pure, stern assertion of authority. It was somewhere in between.

"House of Shadow? Vaermina?" I asked, the name 'Vaermina' rung a bell.

The Dark Elf gestured to his right. I looked in that direction and was surprised to see another, even more elegant piece of civilization present itself. It was a marble statue that had been carefully concealed by a large rock from those who might approach from the East. It was almost as if they had constructed a room, without walls, floor, or ceiling in this little piece of wilderness.

"Here we worship Vaermina, praying for her to grant us true visions. What is your business here?" He inquired, his tone the same as before.

The words 'true visions' made this area tempting to stick around. I wasn't sure I did an adequate job at determining truth myself, and wanted my mind to be at peace. I had already promised myself I would be on my way to Chorrol, though.

"I have no business here." I said, my actions once again the product of courage and conscious decision.

"Then perhaps you should go, lest Vaermina take interest in your dreams." He said, and his tone made his suggestion all the more convincing.

I turned back towards Muck Valley Cavern and began walking towards my horse. Maybe we'd meet again. Anything felt possible now, in both a positive and negative way. If I left Sithis, who knew where I'd end up?

(Mathieu Bellamont): Anvil Lighthouse

I had managed to pass the hours even with the constrictions on the space I could explore. I didn't want to risk going back into town. The guards had already caught a glimpse of me when I escape from the crime scene.

Somewhere, over the golden hills and through the Great Forest, the false dead drop I planted was sitting, waiting to be picked up. I kept trying to replay the moment I'd written it in my head, but by now the memory was so mixed with imagination I wasn't sure I could rely on it.

I was coming closer and closer to realizing my goal. My world was changing, finally. Now it was time to take another risk. I was a bit afraid, but I wasn't letting my instincts push me around anymore. I was in control of my life, not tagging along for the ride.

In my hands was a bag of coins and another piece of paper, which I had checked over obsessively for errors. Now I was sure it was fine. I'd triggered several false alarms already.

I had already instructed Lucien's fool of a Silencer to kill four members of the Black Hand. That should be enough to get them to summon the Night Mother, but I was going to take precautions. If the Silencer managed to kill Uvani, Hoar-blood, Shaleez, and Ungolim, Arquen would be next. Now I just had to find someone who would go into the city for me, and place the rewards and next contract where I'd promised it in the false dead drop I'd left in Chorrol. Then I could leave this county and head back to High Rock to tell my Speaker about my success with Quill-Weave.

I was a complete stranger in this town. That was usually the case where-ever I went, but here it was detrimental. I needed to make sure whoever I entrusted would neither show the letter to the authorities, nor keep the gold for themselves. I needed to provide quite an incentive to ensure both those played out, yet I really had very little, positive or negative, to offer. I needed a fool. Someone who was fool enough to believe they would get a reward greater than the gold I was carrying, and a punishment worse than death if they did not comply. It seemed like a hard to reach goal, but with enough time I knew I could find someone or conjure up some plan to do so that would suffice.

I watched all those walking the weathered planks of the harbor through a narrow opening between two rocks I was hiding behind. It was a large crowd. An opportunity had to be buried in there somewhere. I had all day to scan this area. If nothing else, my determination would be my prized tool for accomplishing this task.

There were sailors: they were known for being unscrupulous so they would likely be enticed by the reward, but they seemed too tough to intimidate. There was one drunkard staggering out of The Flowing Bowl: he might not think to betray me, but he wouldn't be able to follow instructions well in his state. The rest were common-folk: Easy to intimidate but not enough to become trustworthy.

I had been watching the docks for at least an hour by now, but I'd gone from reluctant to restless. Time seemed to be flying by in my world of fantasizing about the moment I'd dreamed of for years which I was coming so close to. The wrongs that had been done were coming back to me. They still sickened me. They still brought me fury. They still reawoke my truest desire, casting all else aside. What would soon happen to the Black Hand if all went well was also in my thoughts. It brought satisfaction. It brought me glee. Where I might have given the slightest clue in that false dead drop I wrote was on my mind too. It brought me fear. My emotions were climbing and falling hugely as I waited.

Then I noticed a more distinct figure straying from the crowd. A short one. An elven boy. He was walking off the planks towards the sand and grassy hills, not in the direction of any civilization. He awkwardly made his way around the rocks and rough shrubbery of the untamed area beyond the planks unto the shore at the foot of the hill, where the waves lapped gently against the sand.

Alone, in his own quiet world, he bent over to pick up a tiny rock, then, gazing out to sea, made a motion like he was throwing a disk. The rock sank through the air and into the water quickly, and ended its flight with a small splash.

He was young, seemingly soft, and, at the moment, alone. This looked like my golden opportunity.

It took a bit of willpower to bring myself to break the silence I'd maintained for so long, but in a moment of courage I pushed the words out. My voice sounded a bit funny to even myself.

"Hey, you! Kid! Over here!" I said somewhere between shouting and normal volume. He perked up and fixed his gaze on me with wide-eye interest. I beckoned him to come closer. He slowly began walking towards me, looking almost like he was entranced with fascination. I carefully shifted to get deeper into the shadows created by the rocks I was hiding behind, making neither of us visible to the other for the time being.

In the shadowy sanctuary I waited. I didn't want to let myself be one sliver less secretive than I had to. One small mess up could cost me my life's work, and I had already fought a lot of tension to bring myself to do this. I couldn't give them anything to reach onto if they tried to investigate. But I'd stalled long enough already obsessively checking over my own plans.

I could hear his footsteps now, soft against the sand or batting against the porous planks. He came into my field of view, but I knew I wouldn't come into his. He continued walking past me in his false world until I signaled that I was still present:

"Psst." I said, causing him to jerk and turn to the direction of my voice "You live here in Anvil, yeah?"

He nodded. His eyes and mouth were wide opened. He seemed entranced. Perfect.

I tossed the bag and rolled up parchment to either side of him. His eyes followed them only briefly, then quickly snapped back to me.

"Put this bag, and this letter in a barrel located behind the statue in the pond. If you do this for me, I'll give you twice what's in this bag." I said. Then I unsheathed my dagger and extended that hand out of the shadows, enough to let the point gleam in the sun, fully visible. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll know, and I'll make sure you die a painful death."

"Deliver these...?" He said, his voice quivering "Me...Right now?"

"Yes...r...no." I realized I had his imagination snared. I didn't have to stop here. He was afraid. I could make my demands more specific. Since there was a slight chance the Silencer might try to cheat the system and go straight for the reward, I decided to make sure that wouldn't be possible. "No. Wait. Place this in the barrel a week from now. Then, and only then, you'll earn your reward." Then I decided to add "I'll be leaving the light house, but you will comply with my requests. We have eyes everywhere, and we'll know if you betray us." Purposely trying to sound ominous, and loving it. I'd always wanted to say something like that at a time like this.

He didn't speak his reply. He just continued to stare at the shadowy corner with a look of fear, and nodded softly.