A/N: There was originally supposed to be a chapter between this one and the last one. Somehow, and have no idea how, it got deleted very late in its stages of development. I didn't even notice it happened until I was uploading these chapters. Anyway, despite how ridiculously unlikely that was to occur in the first place, the chapter that was deleted wasn't terribly important: instead of rewriting I've simply added a bit more to this one, making some allusions to what happened in the lost chapter.

Also, note this chapter has undergone minor revisions since the release of the last chapter of this story. Revised chapters may be inconsistent with reviews and author's notes from unrevised chapters.

Sun's Height 18, 4E1

(Surveys-from-above): Bravil

Once again a prick of itchiness popped up on my arm. I tried to scratch as quickly as possible, knowing I would only need to take my eyes off the alleys a few seconds to miss her. For some reason, I couldn't stop itching right when I needed focus the most.

When I was done, I glanced over at Ungolim again. My eyes had been darting between alleys for what seemed like hours now, but there had been no sign of Fights-up-close. I just hoped I could catch her in a fixed position when she did come into my line of fire.

Our current plan was to hit her with a paralyzing blow dart, a dart coated in a special substance of the Inner Swamps significantly more effective than any alchemical product of similar purpose. What made me so uneasy about this situation was the precision my shot would require considering I was used to using a crossbow. If she was wearing armor, a dart like this wouldn't penetrate it. That would leave only her face and neck vulnerable. And even so, I didn't want to shoot her eye out of commission or anything in the process.

I had my crossbow by my side though, "Just incase."

This whole conflict was draining, not exhilarating like fighting our real enemies. Thankfully, it didn't look like I'd have much to worry about if I could get a good shot with the blow dart. I didn't want to think about all the awkward situations that would arise otherwise. I didn't know how I'd be expected to deal with them.

With the dart blower still near my mouth, I turned my head to the street adjacent the statue. Nothing.

My head itched now. I'd probably peel off my scales by the time this was over.

I looked towards the street second from the statue.

This time, I noticed something.

It was some black and red scurrying through the light, hunched over, in the mistaken state of mind that it was being stealthy. Fights-up-close. My opportunity would be over in a second. From my angle, I wouldn't see her when she made her way into the next alley.

Panicking slightly from what the situation demanded of me, I blew hard into the tube. I watched the arrow's trajectory and prayed I'd gauged it right. The arrow landed silently, and now Fights-up-close was out of view. That was all.

I didn't know if I'd tagged her, yet I knew what I needed to do next.

I viciously took out another dart, then forcibly jabbed it into the liquid coating that was the "paralysis poison", then loaded it into the dart launcher.

The couple of seconds it took felt an eternity in the tension of the moment. I knew a lot could happen in those two seconds.

(Fights-up-close): Bravil

All these trials of sneaking through the city streets in my Dark Brotherhood armor would soon come to an end. Through all the tension, close calls, and adrenaline pumping, I had proven myself.

I'd scouted out this area before hand, during the day, and I knew that no windows or doors faced the Lady Luck Statue: ironically, it seemed like the getting closer to the target put me in less and less danger of getting caught. Soon I would finally be finished with this contract. It had been first contract I'd followed through with confidence in too long.

I crept along the soft earth, simultaneously keeping magicka in my eyes. I was heading into the next and final shadowy alley-way in the massive assassin's playground this city became at night fall.

When I made it into the final shadowy alley-way, I could see the statue very clearly. The target was at the foot of the statue as I expected, but he was doing something surprising.

His bow was at bare, with an arrow already inserted, and he was glancing at the alleys to the left. I had no idea what might have caught his interest there.

Then he looked towards the alley I was in. Our eyes met. But I was in the shadows; was he still oblivious to me?

Two of my instincts stalemated themselves: One was to stay still as to not make my presence more obvious. The other was to run at him assuming I'd already been spotted.

Then, he began aiming his bow forward. He could see me in these shadows. He must have been using the night-eye spell too. But why was he so on guard?

The next thing I knew, the metal tip of an arrow head was whooshing towards me.

I could feel its wind and hear its low whoosh as I dodged.

For a second, I wondered if I'd met my doom, as absurd as it seemed. But no, the arrow had just done a great job of making its point.

The fact that Ungolim was prepared was so unexpected it seemed to defy logic, like the fabrics of reality were being ripped apart by some sinister force behind them with the intention of smothering me. Why was he alerted? By whom? It seemed overwhelming. Briefly I felt faint, but then I ripped into combat mode and charged forward with animalistic determination filling my head, all outside thought and emotions draining from me.

As he loaded another arrow I pushed my legs as hard as I could against the ground.

With the arrow loaded, he raised the bow towards me as I continued to run at him. I was getting closer. I wasn't sure which would come first: contact with him, or his arrow. A lot to gain, but everything to lose.

Then I was staring at the tip of Ungolim's arrow. It was all he needed to put all my efforts to an abrupt and painful end. This was my defeat. This was my death. I was too close to dodge. There was a horrible sinking feel as I realized my fate. I began thinking at amazing speeds:

Ungolim started to take a step back, prolonging it all a fraction of a second.

Then a miracle happened. Suddenly, with a look of fear in his eyes, his upper body was thrown forward.

Being made a fool of by unknown forces, he accidently released the string of the bow in mid fall, causing the arrow to fire pathetically into the ground as he himself fell on his face.

Certain death was deferred in manner equally unexpected by both of us, but that didn't change my course of action. I took the turn of fortune to run the last few steps as Ungolim did his best to prop himself up and recover from the logic defying moment. But it was too late for him to ensure his own survival. In the flurry of chaos, I still came out on top.

As he was almost standing again, I elbowed the back of his neck, knocking him back unto his face. Then I delivered a quick stab in his back with fury built up from the seconds of seeming helplessness, pouring every bit of my soul into the retribution. He delivered a half hearted cry of pain as he collapsed.

Then I noticed something unusual that I couldn't yet quite process. Rapid pattering, growing in volume, mellowed somehow.

Then, the ground beneath my feet vanished. There was a brief moment as fear exploded within me, leaving its own little void. I lost my concentration, causing the night-eye effect to disappeared. The unpleasant scare ended with a collision between the side of my face and the ground. The breath was knocked out of me, I could hear a familiar voice.

"No," the deep voice said quietly, quivering. I squirmed to get a vantage on what was happening, while I could feel a puddle of pain emerging on the spot of my impact. Someone in black robes was crouched over the body of Ungolim looking at his wound.

The robed figure took in an unnatural breath, uneven and gravely. He looked up towards the sky, fell to his knees, and clenched his fists "NO!" he shouted as if the passion was too great for his vocal cords to express, an unnatural rage.

Then, he turned to me, and jabbed his finger at me from afar. "I thought I could get here in time!" He shouted with fiery rage "Thought I could stop you!"

It was Mr. Lachance.

He propped himself up and began walking toward me in a very uninhibited manner. His robes were torn and stained, and his eyes blood-shot. His entire image seemed corroded by something that frightened me to see in him. His merciless boldness and unusual disregard for my comfort made me back pedal intuitively "By Sithis! What have you done!? You have betrayed me! You have betrayed the Dark Brotherhood Why!?"

I startled myself as my back made contact with the wooden exterior of a house. I noticed I was shaking now. His yelling scared me...and hurt me. I could feel an aching lump in my throat. I felt weak. It was just like being admonished as a child, but now I could sense my physical form was in danger: his dagger was at bare, and already I could almost feel the delicate pain it could cause with one precise slice. All I could do was press myself harder against the wall and clench my teeth as I awaited the results of his soulless and unexplainable fury.

Then, Lucien's image was rapidly absorbed with the rest of the world. I thought I could see the outline of his body, but it might have only been due to my knowledge of his presence. He had mastered the Shadow ability far better than he had ever taught us to.

The point of his dagger was still visible, floating in mid-air, and slowly coming towards my sensitive, delicate throat.

Why, after I'd finally pledged my loyalty, was I accused of treachery? "I am here, to end your miserable life," He whispered ominously. It wasn't the Lachance I knew. Something had...consumed him. Why did he mourn the loss of Ungolim? Why was Ungolim alerted? "to..." Why would he call me a traitor for nearly getting killed completing this contract?

Then, the floating metal point sank. The deep voice spoke again, now mellowed "But...but I can see the confusion in your eyes. You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" As if urging me to say yes.

Suddenly, free of danger, some entirely different part of me took over.

"NO!" I shouted. My voice cracked, eroded by the presence of oncoming tears, "What are you talking about!?" With the threat gone, I found an amazing store of frustration at the situation I didn't even realize I had until I opened my mouth. The words were so loud and harsh they seemed like sand-paper on my throat. By now we'd probably woken up all of Bravil, but at this point that wasn't much on my mind.

Somehow, Mr. Lachance knew me better than I wanted to admit. Sometimes, this had made me uncomfortable and frustrated. But it saved my life this time. He had spared my life, and I shouldn't throw any more anger him. But what was this about? I couldn't make anything out of all I'd just seen and heard

Lucien's dagger was now at his side. He was still invisible, but I was the scarier one now. "Your first dead drop contract, you carried that out, eliminated the Draconis family as order. Then," Lucien paused briefly "betrayal" Then, his emphasis grew with each word "Your dead drops went unvisited, your targets ignored. Instead you have been systematically killing off members of the Black Hand!"

I could feel the words hit me. My face tingled uncomfortably. Now it just felt like a nightmare I wanted to wake up from. I could hardly believe the power of this moment.

How could that have happened? I had been fulfilling this dead drop ever since the Draconis contract.

Lucien seemed to sense my confusion once again. "Alval Uvani, Havilstien Hoar-blood, Shaleez: Speakers and Silencers all! And Ungolim, the Listener himself!" He said it almost mournfully, but the wound was much deeper to me. All those names I'd read on the contract, sometimes mispronounced slightly in my memory, were being repeated to me. I could feel my soul sinking while my body was quivering violently. I was blinking rapidly. I tried to hold back tears, but the crushing power of the moment was beyond anything I'd ever faced. I was staring into the horizon of a new day, but it didn't feel much like sunrise.

The world was cruel again. Overbearing, ugly, tiresome: logic was an opposing force. Those targets who I had felt so morally confident to kill were actually my employers.

"The surviving members of the Black Hand know you're innocent! They know you were just following orders! They think I am the traitor!" Now, another emotion was added to the confused and vile concoction of feelings I just wanted to be rid of. It was pity. But pity for a soul I know wondered if truly deserved it. Worse, I knew I would have the burden to figure out how to deal with this horrible mix of feelings.

And who had I been truly pledged my loyalty to after reading the false dead drop:

The Dark Brotherhood, or its enemies?

I was so lost in thought, I didn't realize I'd been silent.

"Don't you see?" Lachance continued "The traitor somehow switched your orders and has been sending you to the wrong dead drops." Then, in a gravely whisper said "You, and I, have been deceived."

The traitor? But that meant M'raaj-Dar wasn't the traitor! That meant no one in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary was.

It seemed like the whole world shifted. My perception of it had been totally false. I would have given anything to have the mentality that I'd carried out this contract with back, but it was gone. The words of the dead drop contract, talk of justice and abundance of explanation, were the words of an enemy.

Maybe I could no longer feel noble in this uniform. Maybe I could no longer see the beauty in any of Sithis' creations.

Mr. Lachance spoke again. "We must find out who is behind this betrayal" he declared "But we haven't much time. I am hunted day and night by the Black Hand! They want me dead." The words made me feel a stab of something...guilt, I supposed. Something I wanted to tare out from inside of me. I was filled with all sorts of complex emotions. "Here is what you must do. Go now to your next dead drop location, lie in wait, and confront whomever drops off the false dead drop. Once the true traitors identity has been uncovered, speak with me. I will be in hiding. Fort Farragut is currently under watch by the Black Hand." There was a pause in the disembodied voice "I'll wait for you at Applewatch, the farm where you killed the old Draconis woman. It should be empty...and safe. Now go, and may Sithis' help us all!"

I could hear Lachance walking away. I was still against the shadow covered wall, looking at the dead body that changed my world. I only just noticed my hand was now gently covering my mouth.

The coarseness of life was coming back. Now I had real tests, real burdens, real problems again. It wasn't just about mourning and guilt anymore. The future was no longer something to look forward to. I couldn't be sure of progress. I couldn't be sure I was on the right side.

I looked up at the sky. The stars starred at me through the clear night. Now I saw my confidence and assurance were undue. I was duped by higher forces. I felt like just an insect now.

When I slowly let my head droop back to the ground, I noticed something on one of the roofs. A protrusion, an irregularity for sure. But before I could muster up a night eye spell it quickly disappeared, as if it had sunk back into the roof itself.

Maybe it was an agent of whatever higher powers I, and Mr. Lachance, had become the play things of, I thought in a moment of fear. And maybe my inability to specifically categorize it just proved my point.

As the questions came, the ideas my mind was standing on vanished, and a panic set it. It ate away at any feeling of security or solidity in the world. What else was I wrong about?

Should I listen to Lachance? I had carried out contracts only because I had no idea what I was truly doing, but does that mean I should betray him now? What about the traitor?

Questions. This had happened before. The questions were coming back, I realized with a dull anguish. I was back in the world where life was coarse, where every day was a duty, and now it felt like I'd never left.

(Surveys-from-above): Bravil

Lachance was no longer in sight, but now it was like I was seeing him as a totally different person. Now I felt guilty for my previous thoughts. No longer did I see him as a smug and deceitful monster. Maybe not a father again yet, but he clearly hadn't turned on us.

The Shadowscale herself now seemed to be slumped against the wall of the building, her hands in her face. I didn't know if she was crying, exhausted, or meditating on all that had transpired, but I knew that realization must have been a lot harder for her to take in than me.

At first I considered calling out to her, breaking the silence in honor of the bitter-sweet breakthrough, but then I remember Learns-fast said I was supposed to stay hidden until I'd begun the capture proceedure, so I assumed that held true for any situation.

Thinking of the new dawn that lay ahead of me with this invigorating new discovery, I began to climb down the grapple hook I'd used to come up to this roof top. There was no need to capture her anymore. Even in her position, it looked like she would be working for our side again. I could feel the old times coming back. The flow of my mind was returning to its older, comfortable state.

My failure to protect Ungolim felt like quite a blow at first, but the vindication of Mr. Lachance made it feel worth it. I would be honored to be the liaison of such liberating news.

My feet finally touched the ground. So much to do, so much to tell, so much to think about. There was a new hope cast on the future, because it would be like the past. There was still a lot we didn't know, but it seemed everything was set to turn out alright with the Dark Brotherhood in the end, and soon those gaps in our understanding would be filled enough to bridge everyone back together.

Though I kept a low profile as a snuck back to the city gates, I was dancing with excitement in my head.

(Learns-fast): Stables outside Bravil

I looked towards a distant Aylied ruin as I leaned against the fence of the stables. I had decided to stay clear of any action, and let Tienaava guard the gates. We'd already dealt with the guard there.

It wasn't the waiting that irritated me, it was the lack of a dead line. I didn't know how to take this delay, and I didn't know what was happening inside the city walls. All I could do was wait instead of assign my enthusiasm to a more useful task. As usual, my passion against Lachance was reawoken when it would be least useful: when I couldn't do anything about it. I wanted to be part of the final fight. My hatred was worse now than before, seeing how the Black Horse Courier and, by extension, Lady Leyawiin, had reacted to Captain Draconis' death. At this rate, they'd be sending troops to Helstrom by the time the officer in the Leyawiin guard was killed. Now, when I was being denied the privilege of making sure Lachance was properly punished, I was forced to work with the fetcher Ungolim. He'd made his own protection so inefficent for us with all the information he witheld from us "outsiders". The only bright side to this was that with Lachance, my partner in the Shadowscale pact, dead, I head a hope of getting Fights-up-close and Cleaver back into my service, but I was pursuing that more out of a sense of duty than desire.

I couldn't help but worry over just about every detail relevant to Lachance's arrest: I was worried they might make some mistake that would let him escape. I was worried the Black Hand wouldn't go harsh enough on him. What if they saw him as their "psychotic brother"? I never really understood the maniacs who ran this cult, but even considering that as a possibility made my boil. He needed to pay for all those sleepless nights.

I wanted nothing more than to see some action again. I had spent all these days like a soldier, every piece of land I set foot on part of the battlefield, every move I made a manifestation of strategy to bring me closer to my enemy's defeat, and now it was all in the hands of a bunch of basement crawling thugs.

Then I noticed the sound of footsteps pattering against the soft, barely tamed pathway from the city.

I turned to see Surveys-from-above. Yes! The wait was over! Now, maybe in some way, I could get back into the battle.

As he got close, he whispered sharply, tapping on the threshold of normal volume. "Lachance isn't the traitor!" Surveys-from-above gradually slowing to a halt up next to me. At first, I barely understood what he said because it was so unexpected."Mr. Lachance isn't the traitor!" He said, throwing his hands around in nearly useless gestures "He came out of one of the alleys! He tried to stop Fights-up-close from killing Ungolim! Ungolim's dead, but he really tried to stop her! He said the real traitor had switched one of his dead drop notes! He sent her to the next dead drop location so they could find the real traitor, while he waited for her in Applewatch!"

"What!?" I hissed back, appalled by the words "He was here!? He tried to save the Listener!? She killed the Ungolim!? She's still out there!?" Anger was still bubbling inside me from all the memories, and now to have this hit my already unstable soul just made me explode. Now when I knew Lachance's punishment was so close, I was being told he wasn't the traitor!?

"I tried, I swear." He said "And yeah, she's still alive."

So I had heard right. I was being told my target all this time was somehow not a traitor. Reality was blocking my destructive impulses like never before, and that filled me with a great, undeniable, savage fury. Images of how silly all that had transpired, all that I'd glorified looked ran through my head, with myself looking the silliest of all. Again, it multiplied my fury. It took every bit of willpower not to let this devolve into a shouting match.

"You mean to tell me the man who killed off the entire Cheydinhal sanctuary isn't a traitor?" I whispered sharply. It was only the tip of the ice-berg of the vast stores of anger.

"I...I don't know. The way he talked..." Surveys-from-above stammered, his voice cracking slightly "He said that she'd been...that he thought she'd been ignoring his real dead drops, that he came here to stop her. He didn't realize her dead drops had been switched until..." I put my hand infront of his face in a gesture of silence so I could think. It felt as if life had slapped me in the face. We'd come this far, only to find out we had nothing. Lachance was never a traitor: I'd never get to finish what I'd started. I twitched as I thought. I was speechless.

I looked over towards the courier. He was enjoying the view of the Niben Bay, sitting in a grassy area where he could get a good view. This situation meant nothing to him. Even that annoyed me then and there.

I pushed the next words out of my mouth. "Thank you, agent." I finally said, the worlds feeling horribly unnatural, damming up my fury, my only reality at the moment "Go tell Cleaver to leave his post. I'll report the news to our courier."The worlds hardly even felt like mine.

I began walking through the grassy fields, moving my legs mechanically as I waged war against myself in my head. With the anger I felt, vindicating Lachance seemed unthinkable now. At first it seemed impossible to consider, but even with the blatant vileness of thought, I had to take it into the consideration. Was it all just a matter of willpower?

You know you need to tell the truth about Lachance. This is just a contest between vengeful temptation and maturity.

Is it, now? Lucien killed off the entire Cheydinhal sanctuary.

But he knows the Dark Brotherhood better than you: whatever his reasons, he didn't consider himself a traitor for that.

Why do you care? Let the fetcher die. They won't know the difference.

I frightened myself with that last thought. I had never thought like that before.

If they think Lachance is the traitor, they'll lose a Speaker and overlook the real trouble-maker. Nothing good can happen to the Black Hand after that, and the strength of the Dark Brotherhood is the strength of the Argonian Royal Court. But I didn't feel like I could put it all together. I didn't feel like I could make sense of it all. My thoughts were getting cut off. I was too filled with hatred, and now I was only feet away from the courier. The courier turned towards me, his mouth slightly opened, eager for a response. I remembered the last thought in my head: the strength of the Dark Brotherhood is the strength of the Argonian Royal Court.

I had to look after the interests of the Dark Brotherhood.

Yet I shunned my conclusion, crossed over to the side of irrationality, and ignored logic for once so my words might leave my mouth gracefully.

"Lucien Lachance has relocated to the Applewatch farm to wait for his duped Silencer. Tell the Black Hand." I said to the courier.

There was only a second of relief to have the decision over with, even if I'd fallen.

Then I could feel the impact of my own words. My life had been shaken because I consciously avoided the smarter decision. I was weak.

I turned to walk away. Something inside me had changed. I knew I'd just witnessed decision in its purest form.

Then I was calculating and analyzing, thinking of whether I could step back and tell him the truth as regret nagged me, thinking of how I was wallowing in my own weakness. But I continued to shun the rational part of me, and with every step the thought that it wasn't too late to turn back became less and less true. My mind was adjusting to accommodate this new me.

With that, I felt I'd learned something about the very mechanics of my soul. Discovered a new person. I might be sacrificing my career to fulfill a momentary desire, even when the latter came out as so much less important. My soul had been tested and failed.

The courier was walking off to report the false news. I knew this incident would scar me, but right now, I was one of the weak. I didn't know what the future would be like in any way.

In the distance I could see the two Shadowscales talking. Maybe Fights-up-close had already slipped out of town. Either way, it didn't matter. She was no longer someone to be concerned about. Maybe nothing but my feelings here and now were something to be concerned about. That's certainly how I acted. Maybe this was the dawn of a new way of the most basics aspects of my being. I was in an altered state of consciousness, stuck with what was pure and undeniable irresponsibility at the deepest level possible.

Then, a comforting thought came to me:

Once she got to Anvil, and uncovered the true traitors identity, I realized I might be able to cushion the fall for the Dark Brotherhood. The real traitor could be eliminated, even after Lachance was, and I would get credit. The Dark Brotherhood would be preserved, and I would still have a job because I'd appear the saviour, not the sabateur.

I knew living with my disregard would leave scars in me that could never be healed by the outside world, but it would be something.

The Shadowscales stopped their conversation as I got close. Then, being purposely vague, said "I've told the courier about Lucien Lachance. Anvil's our next destination."