A/N: This chapter has undergone minor revisions since the start of the story. Keep in mind, revised chapters may be inconsistent with reviews and with the author's notes from unrevised chapters.

Sun's Height 17

(Mathieu Bellamont): Fort Farragut

My legs were beginning to ache from all the walking. Going upwards, like now, was particularly painful, but with the mission ahead, I practically embraced the pain. It was another enemy I was defeating, another way to make my name feared. I was just glad to be back on the battlefield.

My dead drop plan had worked. Now I no longer needed to worry about whether or not I'd made a mistake somewhere in that plan. Now I could openly talk of my blood-lust Lachance. The success of such a quick and basic plan seemed almost comical.

It was Arquen who was walking ahead of us, and just seeing her black robes resurrected my desires to spill blood. They felt insatiable again, like their deaths weren't coming soon enough, like the rest of the Black Hand deserved wounds deeper than I could ever inflict. But I had to keep focus. I had to keep myself in an in-character mentality, and then soon enough I could let go of that mentality forever. I knew that mentality had eaten away at my mind over the years, often giving me unnecessary guilt and faulty memories, but soon it would have served its purpose.

The Champion of Cyrodiil himself was walking by my side. Just another reminder of the facade these people put infront of their amorality. He had been on my mind for quite some time as we journeyed. I was almost starting to wonder if I was truly alone in the world of decent people. When even the Champion himself was consorting with evil people, was I the only remaining defier of greed and temptation in this world? The only person the Nine, if they existed, were watching and rooting for? Their only agent in this vast world of evil, living with a self-imposed burden that had stressed my life 24/7? Or was I a defier even to them in this world of evil?

But even if that was the crushing truth, so be it. I was lonely already, and my will needed to remain iron. I needed to pride myself in the fanaticism they would no doubt see in me when I finally revealed the truth in the passionate last moment.

We were somewhat close to the fort when it came into view. With the over-ground in total ruins, it would be the underground that would the site of an epic battle. The ancient archway into the fort gaped at us like a giant demonic mouth. The whole place seemed distorted and devastated almost beyond recognition. The sight seemed just as ugly as the rest of that which was relevant to Dark Brotherhood.

We stopped in front of the ruin. Arquen began, turning to speak to us. I hoped if she had a plan, it wouldn't take too long to coordinate.

"Fellow members of the Black Hand, we shall proceed--"

My Speaker interrupted her "Please, Speaker Arquen, I have visited this sanctuary in times passed. I believe it is I who should formulate an offensive plan." I did my best to listen intently because I knew I needed to, but they seemed miles away right now. I felt no real sense of connection to them.

"You're right. The Night Mother has blessed us with you, dear Speaker. Please say your thoughts." Arquen replied. They didn't show that kind of agreeability to the rest of the world. They were all talking through masks.

"Fort Farragut has two entrances. The first is concealed inside a hollowed tree: it is for Lachance's welcomed visitors. The second is visible in the ruins, but is guarded by the product of years of necromancy.

Though using the secret entrance may seem optimum, descending the ladder it contains would require us to descend into the sanctuary one by one, and leave us in a vulnerable position as we climbed. The results would be pure disaster if he were to be awoken.

All my visits have been...administrative, so I do not know what you should expect to find in the second entrance. However, it would allow us to enter in a larger group, and be sure not to leave us vulnerable once we braved its dangers.

For this reason, we should split our group. Alor, Arquen, and Antigonus should infiltrate through the main entrance, while my Silencer uses the secret entrance as I await atop it. If Lachance attempts to climb his way out of danger, I will be there to kill him."

I didn't care to give any input. I just wanted to get on with the killing, because the energy in me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. That, and I had spoken no words to Dark Brotherhood which felt natural since I'd killed Marie. All I could feel was trapped rage, banging its fists to get out.

Instead, it was the Dunmeri Silencer who spoke "Speaker, if I may have a word: won't our numbers only be to our advantage if those using the guarded entrance arrive at the same time as your Silencer?"

"Why yes," He said, then looked down in thought for a moment. "Before entering Lachance's quarters you will come across a gate. Do not pull the lever to open it. My Silencer will give you time to make it to this destination. If you see Lachance waking, open the gate and rush in. If not, there will be no need. Arquen, I believe you should command Antigonus and Alor."

(Fights-up-close): The Flooded Mine

The shabby, weathered door in front of the Flooded Mine was now all that stood between me and enemy territory after a day of nothing but preparation. It wasn't that Shaleez sounded like a particularly intimidating target: I just would prefer to do this at night and saw it as an efficent way to spend the day. I didn't see any reason to expect her sleep cycle was anything other than typical, either.

With all the intelligently chosen equipment at my side, I felt proud and powerful. I still had my enchanted dagger in a sheath on my right, but I'd decided to purchase a cheap short sword incase this assignment would involve any actual combat. In addition, I was keeping a healing potion with me. On top of all that, I was clad in my Dark Brotherhood armor. Taking all that into account, I felt like an awesome assassin for this assignment. I was eager to see this play out.

I knew from my use of my detect life spell she wouldn't be right at the door.

I opened the door. Its rusty hinges squeaked as the long deserted mine was slowly revealed. The fact that it was flooded was immediately evident. I gauged only a few paces down the sloping tunnel would leave me totally submerged.

This was a very clever place for an Argonian to hide-out, so it was certainly fitting that she would meet death at the hands of one of her fellows. I hated her for killing what few Dunmer had defiantly decided to co-exist peacefully with us, especially when there were so many who, according to my book, didn't.

I pushed magicka into my eyes to see through the darkness. Now it was time for precision, cleverness, victory, and justice.

As I began walking into the water, taking in its murky scent, the thrill began to build. The sensation wobbled in the threshold between pleasure and pain. While the huntress, Clear-night-sky, certainly wouldn't be my hardest target, she wouldn't be my easiest target either.

First I felt the cold water chill my body. Then I was submerged up to my ears, all sound becoming the water's stagnant hum. Then I submerged my eyes, and I was completely in the other realm.

The water wasn't very clear, but in a couple of strokes I could make out of the shape of a narrow, irregular tunnel to my left.

I propelled myself in its direction and began to swim down the narrow tunnel. The rocky nature of Cyrodiillic terrain sure made for some interesting stone formations. Its edges seemed to take a shape like a thick, oozing liquid frozen in time. There was little symmetry in this weird little Cyrodiillic phenomenon. As I stretched my arms with each stroke, they just barely missed the walls.

Soon I came to a T in the mine. I decided to head right.

The tunnel began to widen.

There was a bizarre rocky protrusion in the center of this wider "room" almost like an hour glass. There seemed to be no end to the wonders of what nature could do in places like Cyrodiil. The ground everything in this province grew on seemed to have a life of its own.

As I propelled myself further I noticed the floor of the cavern was beginning to slope upwards. It looked like I would be arriving at a dry area of the cave again soon.

I was aware I made some degree of noise as my head emerged from the water. And as I emerged I noticed there was someone, no doubt my target, curled up tightly in a bedroll on the cavern floor. She seemed to be stirring, but I couldn't tell if it was the product of a dream, or if my presence had awoken her.

I tried to gently raise my torso from the water, but that too made noise. The splash-like sound seemed as loud as thunder to an assassin attempting to be stealthy.

Then I saw the spined huntress whip her head towards me. Her squinting eyes, struggling against the forces of fatigue, looked directly at me. I went numb as the suspense came upon me. I could see she had a sword laying by the side of her bed. This could get ugly. Could she see me, or was this just a false alarm? I tensed, silently praying to Sithis I wouldn't be noticed.

She sat up.

I stood frozen. It took a few seconds for it to register with her that she was looking at an intruder, but when it did, her eyes popped wide open

Stuck in a world between air and water, my charge started out annoyingly slow. Luckily Shaleez spent a couple of seconds glancing around for her weapon, which I already had my eye on.

When she finally spotted it, I was already diving to the ground to reach it in order to keep it away from her. I slid against the sandy and rocky cavern floor, my armor preventing any irritation.

We both grasped the handle, my hand over her's.

As she pulled the weapon towards herself with slightly superior strength, I went with the first way I could think to inflict pain, however ungraceful it seemed. I tried to press my fingers into her hand in an awkward animalistic fury, affronted by the fact that she was able to put up any sort of fight. It did next to nothing, however. The Dark Brotherhood armor wasn't like the Shadowscale armor: the finger-tips were pretty blunt.

It was an odd scenario, so I had to resort to some odd tactics. With what little of my body could be moved without letting go of the sword, I still needed to inflict pain with the time I'd been given. I moved my free hand, straining seldomly used muscles, to kick up some of the dirt on the cave floor towards her eyes.

It caused her to grunt and close them briefly, but didn't loosen her grip. Still, I felt it bought me time as I struggled to get my hand around my own short-sword.

When I finally pulled my sword out of its sheath with a small feeling of accomplishment, I released my grip on Clear-night-sky's weapon and sprung back, holding my short sword infront of me. She sprung to her feet as well, but the irritation in her eyes was still evident by the way she was blinking.

With the sword in hand and armor on my body, I could feel some degree of security, but now stealth was out of the question. Now it was time for a simple duel.

My sword made a sharp "swoosh" as the thin metal cut through the air, only to hear a clang as Clear-night-sky successfully blocked, whimpering at the close call.

There was an odd, prickly sensation in my hands from the impact. I knew if she hadn't blocked, that hit would have done the job.

She attempted a stab, but I caught her sword on its side and deferred it, inadvertently gasping. I back pedaled briefly and took a pointless swing: the only result was a deep swooshing noise. The sword was well out of range.

The clanging of steel, the use of all sorts of strength, the grunts of passion. It had a beauty in its own right, but I preferred to avoid combat, and was nervous as I fought.

She stepped forward. We both attempted a swing at the same time.

This time when our swords clashed they became locked together.

I could almost feel the impending slice that would come after one of the swords was liberated from the X they'd formed. I needed to ensure the first sword liberated was mine.

I didn't know exactly how long we had stood locked together. Time is hard to gauge in the heat of a battle. None the less, an idea came to me.

As we stared into each other's eyes, I moved one of my feet behind one of her's, then pulled it back forcibly. The one way I outmatched her: wit. My victory.

She fell onto her back, a symbol of what was to come: her death.

(Mathieu Bellamont): Fort Farragut

"Now should be the time, Mathieu." The Speaker said. It felt like I'd waited ages already.

I began walking forward. My heart was pounding. It felt great to have a weapon in my hand. It was feeling of power accompanied by the knowledge I could finally release all the destructive energy inside me.

I was inside the hollowed trunk now, looking down at the hatchway. This day had been the product of endless dedication, intentional obsession, spurts of courage, and years upon years of waiting, and now it was finally here. It was a new stage in my life. I had lived too long in fear, denial, and needless guilt. Finally Lucien would regret forsaking his duty as a father to embrace his greed. Finally the Dark Brotherhood would regret the discipline that allowed me to restrain myself for so long.

I wrapped my hand around the cold metal handle and slowly, gently pulled it from the ladder entrance. It made only the slightest sound. I was here to prove something not only to the Dark Brotherhood, but to prove something to myself: the potential of dedication.

I couldn't help but quiver with all the energy, but I steadied my hand for brief second as I gently rested the hatch against the wood.

Below I could see a ladder dangling to the floor of Lachance's sanctuary. From here, I knew I could make quite a fall, literally and figuratively.

I carefully placed my arms and legs on the wobbly wooden rungs of the ladder. They move forwards with the force I'd inadvertently put on them. I clung to the rungs tightly and shook them in a moment of irrational fury, the anger easily spilling out at the slightest provocation like water in a filled glass. But I stopped myself quickly. It would make noise.

Countless questions were going through my head as I lowered myself wrung by wrung. It almost seemed too good to be true. Can I really sneak up on him? Will the Black Hand ever find out what I did? Will they really summon the Night Mother? But no, I needed to get over baseless self-doubt if I was ever to fulfill my dream. This was my opportunity to make myself more than another victim.

I saw my enemy curled up in undeserved comfort, it was the ugliest sight I could think of. I felt my obsession override any pessimism. The meticulous paranoia that had allowed me to make it this far seeped away too because I saw it was no longer needed. I could once again feel the deep anger. Killing him in his sleep wouldn't be enough: He'd earned far worse his turn to evil. I'd make sure he woke up, but not before it was too late to save himself.

Now I was lower: closer to my oblivious target. That meant less and less to fear. Lucien had already laid down a carpet to welcome me. I could feel sweat building in my under-arms. An endless store of energy was bubbling within me. I would put it all towards destruction. With my dagger, I wanted to turn Lachance into something barely recognizable as human.

My feet made graceful contact with the carpeted floor. Yes, so close. The passion and energy was like nothing I ever felt before. All else was put aside as I crept towards my enemy. His comfort was vile, his assurance of his own safety was smug. It was the dawn of justice. A sunrise searing through the pompous, dogmatic, pseudo-righteous lies of pacifists and burning the evil, greedy, sadistic enemy.

I continued to creep. Soon the great emotional release would come, and injustice would be corrected as Lucien was pulled down to the state a soul like his deserved in the scape of justice. A battle between good and evil like in all the tales. I was a grizzled veteran of that war, and now victory finally seemed in sight.

Then, I was right by his bed side. I tried not to breath at first, planning on how to wake him up. I looked over to my left, through the demonic looking gothic gate, and could see Arquen. She was mouthing something to me. "Do it." as best as I could guess. As the discomfort built up from my lack of breathing, an idea came to me.

Soon we'd be dancing the dance of combat, the steps imbued with meaning, inspired by the song of death.

His hand was on his side as he slept. I brought my knife towards the completely bare flesh, the anticipation building. After all this planning, this was a moment of actually seeing my plans make it into the real world.

With the sharp edge of my blade I gently caressed his hand.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lucien, signaling his awakening. The blood followed shortly. He whipped around and my eyes met with his. They widened immensely. He realized he was being attacked, definitely, but maybe something more as well.

I could hear the gate opening. Bizarre stimulus seemed to be coming at me from every angle knowing I'd, for the first time, wounded the man who'd started this all. It was a goal I'd worked towards for years. I felt more lucid than ever. Even in this vast world of evil, a, or perhaps the world's angel of pain could shine.

I could hear the gates opening. Lucien's fear converted to anger. He bared his teeth before nearly hitting me with a hearty punch from his wounded hand. I purposely fell back before the impact, then rolled out of the way.

Lucien immediately sprung to his feet, as did I. Lucien instantly ripped off a piece of his sheet and savagely slapped it onto his wound as a makeshift bandage.

He was bare-fisted. I had a dagger. I already had the advantage, but it could get even better. My Black Hand allies were coming. I knew we could do better in a pack, so I slowly backed up, each passing second making me a smaller and smaller factor in the equation of my Lucien's death. We stared at each other, each expecting aggression from the other, locked in an arbitrary battle

Then, when the gate was sufficiently raised, I could hear Arquen's voice. "Die, betrayer!" She growled, averting Lucien's glance briefly.

I lunged forwards to stab him in the shoulder, releasing only one more drop of what I had in me. Yet as he back pedaled at the sight of the Black Hand, the stab became a nick on his upper-arm.

His back-pedaling quickly twisted its way into a run, as he vigorously pushed his legs in a brief sprint.

Oddly, he passed the ladder, unlike we'd expected. I noticed he was heading to the farther pillar in this bedroom. He disappeared into the shadow it cast, and I was eager to follow. The bubbling energy of hatred was imbued in every muscles, pushing to get out. I was pushing my spirit to its limits, but even in this showdown, it only felt barely adequate to give Lucien what he deserved.

With my knife at bare, ready to swing it and further maim my enemy, I made my way around the pillar. But I didn't see Lucien cornered by the Black Hand, being torn to shreds.

He was...gone.

In the shadows? I tried to poke through the shadows with my knife. At first I stabbed near the pillar. There was nothing except air. I moved closer to the wall, away from the pillar, and stabbed and sliced into the shadow. Yet still, nothing but air taunting and baffling me.

It was as if he'd just disappeared, as if he was no longer part of time and space. I was baffled. I was so close to finally getting revenge on the man who'd cast a shadow of hatred over my life. I had been grizzled, worked, and hardened for this moment, and he was just...gone. I was in awe.

The destructive energy was there again, but this time it was trapped, futile, making me feel pathetic. It fed on itself: I got frustrated at the undeniability justification of my own frustration. There was no way around it. I was cheated by the Nine.

"Where did he go?" Arquen yelled in a mix of panic and fury. "He has ordered four of our members to be killed! He ordered the Listener himself to be killed! He must pay for his treachery!"

"He couldn't have gone far!" The Dunmeri Silencer stated trying to deny the truth that floated through the air: that our efforts had been for naught."Let's keep looking!"

Words didn't flow among my family, or in my state of rage, but I pushed them out. "He went into a shadow and just disappeared." I said.

There was a short silence while my fury thrashed around helplessly. The bricks and fire seemed to look at me with the same amoral indifference I'd seen in the Dark Brotherhood. The whole world seemed ugly now.

"He needs this sanctuary. He's a wanted criminal." Arquen finally said.

A new piece of logic, a sign of hope.

"Are you suggesting something?" The Dunmeri Silencer asked eagerly.

"I'm suggesting we stay here...if he ever left, he'll be back." Arquen said.