A/N Hi everyone! Sorry for the slow update, this week's been a bit hectic with all the end-of-school mayhem. I hope it's satisfactory. A big thanks and lots of hugs to my reviewers; you give me reason to go on! Also, please tell me if you want a particular quest or something. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5

Argh, here come more bandits. I hate bandits.

I quickly disposed of them, looting the lockpicks off of them, and taking a glass sword from the Orsimer.

Suddenly, an Imperial ran up to me brandishing a greatsword.

"I've fought Mudcrabs more fearsome than you!" he yelled before I shot an arrow straight into his right eye. Smirking, I pulled the arrow free and plundered some minor loot from his body.

If a Mudcrab is more fearsome than me, then I'm a piece of cheese.

I smiled, thinking of a good friend who would literally kill for cheese. I almost wished I was back there, enjoying banquets with him, but my world called. I'm needed here; I do not truly belong in his realm. My home is here, in Tamriel, with the Brotherhood.

Ahh well, one cannot change what is in the past. I must think of the future, this contract.

This last week, I had completed two contracts for Vicente, one in Bruma, where a man was killed by a falling Minotaur head, and another in the Imperial City, where an abusive guard fell to his death from the top of the guard tower. The last one had earned me the Slayer rank.

Both so-called accidents were difficult to organise, but this next contract was a special one, one that desired extra attention.

My destination was Chorrol to see a man named Francois Motierre. Here's the interesting part: I must not kill him. I'm to fake is death to help him escape from debt. I remember the conversation I had with Vicente once learning of the contract.

"I have a special contract that needs fulfilment. In truth, I don't wish to offer it to any other family member," his gaze had held a prideful look as he told me this contract was special. "I've come to rely on your abilities. We're usually called upon to take a life, but not this time; this contract requires us to stage an assassination of a marked man. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready for anything you throw at me," I didn't want to misplace his trust.

"Excellent! You must go to Chorrol and break into the house of Francois Motierre. Inside, you will find Motierre waiting for you. Do not kill him!" he added quickly.

I smiled slightly at that statement. That's a new one.

"You see, Francois Motierre is a marked man. He owes a considerable sum to the wrong kind of people, so they have sent an enforcer to kill him. The enforcer's name is Hides-His-Heart. Here," Vicente handed me a beautiful silver dagger, "you will use this specially poisoned knife to stage Motierre's death, in the enforcer's presence. Motierre himself will provide more details. This is an unusual contract; Motierre had to make a special arrangement with us before it was approved. I trust in your professionalism.

"What special arrangement?" I asked hungry for more information about this most unusual contract.

"The Dark Brotherhood is not in the habit of staging deaths. Regardless of how much gold is offered, a sacrifice is needed. Sithis demands blood and blood must be paid. In order to accept this contract, we demanded a life. Motierre offered his mother and we accepted. Lucien has already taken care of that... detail.

"The knife I gave you has been coated with a rare poison called Languorwine. You need only cut Motierre once and he will appear to die. One drop in a normal human bloodstream will mimic the effects of death immediately. I have provided you with a vial of antidote, which will be used to revive Francois Motierre after you successfully stage his death. You should also know that there's only enough Languorwine on the blade for this one contract; after Motierre is cut, the knife will be rendered useless. Good luck, dearest sister," he added as an encouragement.

I was riding towards Chorrol on the Black Road, and every ten minutes, there're either bandits, highwaymen or wolves. Sithis, I loathe wolves. They are so easy to kill, and yet they keep coming. It's as if they are here just to annoy me. The same with Mudcrabs; by Sithis, I hate those things.

Speak of Dagon, one came scuttling up to me when I passed a small lake. One shot from my bow, and it died.

I finally spotted Chorrol's walls after another hour's ride. When I entered the gate, an Argonian ran towards me.

"Hello, you're new here, aren't you? I'm Dar-Ma," said the bubbly Argonian.

"A good day to you, I'm Kyni," I said, making the name up on the spot.

"An interesting name, would you mind if I enquire about it?"

"Not at all; my father was a sailor, and he prayed to Kynareth to guide him home to my mother. I was named in honour of Kynareth, who always answered my father's prayers. My father was injured in a pirate attack, and so he came home and started a farm with my mother. I'm here now on my way to visit some relatives in the Imperial City."

"Wonderful! I want to see the Imperial City one day."

"I'm looking for a friend of mine, a Francois Motierre. Would you know where his house is?" I asked, running out of ideas.

"He lives just over there, to the left of Arborwatch. I like him, he's a nice man," she added.

I smile at her, "thanks. Would you know where I can rent a room for the night?"

"There's the Oak and Crosier or the Grey Mare. I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm sorry, but I must take my leave. My mother needs help in the shop. She owns Northern Goods and Trade," she added before skipping off to her mother's shop with a wave in my direction.

I sat by the big tree next to the Mage's Guild for a quick lunch. I love this tree, it is a feature, if the only one, of this rich town. I mostly loathe rich towns, but Leyawiin and Chorrol are exceptions; Leyawiin because the people work for their money, and Chorrol because the population isn't snooty.

I quickly made my way to Motierre's house after a brief stop at the inn to don my armour.

Opening the door, I found Motierre pacing in front of a fireplace.

Completely invisible, I placed a single Nightshade flower in his pocket. Nightshade has been my signature, and I'd always placed a single flower on the bodies of my victims. This man, though not to be killed, was no exception.

He jumped when I dispelled my Chameleon spell, suddenly appearing in front of him.

"Oh! Well, um, hello," he was nervous. I was expecting this.

I took stock of our situation; big doors, lots of furniture, some stairs, shoes by the door, a table, two chairs, many things to trip over. I determined the best place to stand when slicing Motierre, ensuring a clear path to the exit.

"You must be the one Lucien Lachance told me about, I've been expecting you" I raised an eyebrow to this. There's no mistaking my identity, as, firstly I'm not disguised, secondly the Brotherhood armour is a dead give-away. I smirked slightly at my own joke.

But just what did our Speaker tell him? Pondering this, I nearly missed what Motierre said.

"I borrowed quite a bit of gold from some underworld types. I... I missed a payment," he made an exasperated gesture. "Now they don't even want the money. They say I insulted them! They've sent an enforcer to kill me! His name is Hides-His-Heart, and he's on his way here, now!" He paced again, "That's why I hired you, so you can fake my death!" Motierre laughed shakily.

"Please continue," I said.

"Well, when Hides-His-Heart gets here, I'll put on a little act. You'll cut me with your poison knife, and that vile enforcer will think I'm dead. You do have the knife, don't you?"

I withheld an exasperated sigh as I presented him the knife. The Languorwine Blade dripped with a potent poison. He watched as a droplet traced the intricate pattern on the blade.

"Good, we'll need that," I avoided rolling my eyes at him. This man was beginning to annoy me. "Okay, so after you have 'killed' me, you must flee Chorrol, and Hides-His-Heart must not be killed! That way he can go back and tell his employers I'm dead.

"If you wait a day, my 'body' will be put on display in the Chorrol Chapel Undercroft," his voice gained confidence with every sentence. "You can come to me then and administer the antidote. Got all that?" I grunted in agreement.

"Good, well, Hides-His-Heart will be here any moment. Get ready!" this man was far too excitable. "I do hope this works," he added in an undertone. He didn't notice the look of daggers I shot at him at that remark; I may be new, but I'm not inexperienced.

I placed myself in a position that would allow me free access to the door after my 'kill.'

We stood there for a small while, Motierre was pacing while I leaned against a wall, playing with the Languorwine blade.

Finally, a loud banging on the door announced the arrival of Hides-His-Heart. Soon, the door was smashed as a burly Argonian burst into the room.

"Motierre, I'm here to exact payment, in blood! You will... eh? Who is this? The Dark Brotherhood?" he said, half turning to me, "oh, you have been a naughty boy, Motierre, haven't you?"

"What's this? Oh, Dark Brotherhood assassin, please don't cut me with that wicked blade!" Sithis, this man was the worst actor I have seen in my whole life. "Could this be the end of poor Francois?"

"Stand aside, assassin!" Hides-His-Heart moved his blade between Motierre and me, "Motierre is mine! My employers demand it! We'll see who gets to cut you, Motierre! Let me show you how a real killer operates. You! Dark Brotherhood mongrel, defend yourself!"

I brushed aside his blade with a quick sweep of the dagger, moved behind Motierre, and sliced the Languorwine Blade across his chest.

I jumped around Motierre's 'body' and ran for the door. I darted through Chorrol, dashing as fast as I could, but only barely ahead of the Argonian. To my right, one of the town gates was opening to let a farmer through. Taking the opportunity, I darted around the cart and into the woods, activating my chameleon spell to blend into the trees.

It took only half-an-hour for Hides-His-Heart to give up the chase.

I changed into a light brown skirt with a lace-up shirt of light blue and beige. I slipped on one of my disguises, one that gave me dark hair and deep blue eyes. I tensed as the pain coursed through me. Disguises always come at a price, and mine was that any changed feature hurt, as if a thousand red-hot needles pressed against the inside. The reason for this pain was that I changed my features, not just the colour. If I just changed the tinge of my, say, skin or eyes, people would soon realize that the tan Wood Elf at the waterfront and the light-skinned Bosmer in Chorrol were the same person; and so I changed my eye shape, my ear size, and nose.

This particular disguise had dark, straight hair, blue almond-shaped eyes and a small nose.

I cannot stay in a disguise for more than a day, though, for the pain becomes too much for me to bear. That is another reason why I kill without disguise, as I can concentrate far better when I don't have a constant small pain coursing through my brain.

I hitched my straw bag, containing my armour, over my shoulder and meandered out of the forest.

I wondered back into the town, searching for the inn. Though the Oak and Crosier looked tempting, I bought a room at the Grey Mare to avoid suspicion. It fitted more to my character of a poor ex-sailor's daughter.

I walked around town for an hour, trying to occupy myself with something other than sitting in my room, waiting for tomorrow. Luckily, night was approaching. Walking past Motierre's house, I overheard a couple guards talking.

"Have you heard? Francois Motierre has been murdered by the Dark Brotherhood! I saw the body myself! They say that he was killed by the same person who murdered that pirate captain on the Waterfront, the rich man in Bruma, and that poor guard in the Market District. All the bodies had a Nightshade flower on their person. I tell you, this murderer is a slippery bastard; he always seems to escape custody."

I nearly scoffed at that remark; the guard was far from poor. He abused and robbed the people he was supposed to protect, and finally someone had enough and commissioned the Dark Brotherhood to take care of the problem.

I wondered back to my room, after a dinner of venison, and waited until the next day, sleeping when I could, and, dressed in my Shrouded Armour, I ran silently into the Chapel Undercroft.

Motierre lay there, surrounded by flowers. He didn't breathe or move as I crept up to him. I pressed the vial containing the antidote to his lips.

I could see the colour returning to his face, the breath to his body, and soon he spluttered and sat up, eyes wide.

"Where am I? Ah, the Chapel Undercroft," he was not relieved, I saw. There's something he was hiding. "Now you must take me to the Grey Mare and this nightmare will be over."

I helped him up, as he was still shaky from the after-effects of the poison, but he was unwilling to move.

"Shall we get going?" I asked, trying to be pleasant, but this man was trying my patience.

"Ehem, umm, well, there was something I forgot to mention. All of my family members are buried here, and my removal from this place will be seen as a," he paused, "desecration of their tomb. My ancestors will react most violently to that. Oh look! Here they come now! We must hurry!"

I turned as a foul stench reached my senses. A zombie met my gaze, emitting a horrid groaning and squelching sound as it moved.

"Oh, Aunt Margaret, you are looking worse for wear!" Francois exclaimed as I plunged the Blade of Woe and Heart's Woe into its eyes.

We battled our way through the hoard of angry ancestors and out into the Chapel, leaving a trail of dead zombies in our wake.

Dead zombies, I scoffed as I thought this. They were supposed to be dead in the first place.

I cast a Chameleon spell as we ran for the Grey Mare. I pushed him through the door, reminding him that I was still there. I lead him to my room and dispelled my spell.

This time, he did not jump at the sight of me appearing right in front of him.

"I wish to thank you for all you have done. I'm sorry if I've been a little impatient," he wasn't as annoying as I thought.

"I will leave you here, take care," I said as I grabbed my bags and left the establishment, again casting my spell.

~{::}~

The sun was kissing the west, bathing the city in crimson as I trod its streets. Cheydinhal was beautiful at this time of day, the trees and buildings dancing in sanguine and gold, the streams shining in the evening light.

I stood and watched the streets darken before entering the abandoned house.

As I entered the Sanctuary, I bumped into Talaendril, who was on her way to a contract.

"Oh! Sorry, Sister, I didn't see you there!" she hugged me briefly.

"It's all right. Going on a contract?"

"Yes, I'm on my way to Anvil. It should be good fun, as my target has a particular liking to Elves. How do you think I should kill him, poison, accident or blades? Vicente said I could kill him any way possible."

"Is there a bonus?" I asked.

"All I have to do is hide the body in order to get it."

"I've always been partial to poison, myself, but you will know when the time comes."

"Alright, thanks. Oh! And how'd your special assignment go?"

"It went well, but he forgot to mention the zombies," I smiled.

"You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back, but for now, I'm sorry to say I must take my leave, I have to be in Anvil by tomorrow. Good hunting, Sister," she embraced me again.

"A good hunt to you too, my Sister."

She disappeared behind the door.

I visited Vicente about the contract before making my way to an empty Training Hall.

I stretched for a small while before starting my training.

I practiced some spells, first, testing my Destruction, Illusion and Mysticism skills.

Once finished, I pulled out my daggers, admiring them in the flickering torchlight. No imperfections showed on the ebony, which meant I wouldn't have to sharpen them tonight.

I proceeded to stab the practice dummies, trying different attacks, and never using the same one twice. I tried some sneak attacks and power strikes.

Suddenly, I felt eyes upon my back. I spun around with weapons ready. I sheathed my blades when I realized who it was that was watching me.

"It is good to see you, Speaker," I bowed my head politely, as I wondered briefly how long he stood there, leaning against the wall in the shadows.

"Your training seems to be coming along well. That is good; I hope you are happy in this Sanctuary," he moved away from the wall, walking ever closer until we were face-to-face.

"Thank you, Speaker," I felt slightly overwhelmed at the sudden praise. Then, in answer to his second question, I said: "I am enjoying it here. I've never felt so welcomed," I smiled at him.

He pushed back the black hood that had, on previous visits, covered all his features, save those dark, brown eyes. His almost black hair was tied in a small, neat ponytail. He was younger than I had first thought, though he had some lines across his forehead. He must have been around my age, maybe a little older. His deep eyes were sparkling with amusement and... Was that pride?

I caught the scent of the forest and various Alchemetical ingredients, most prominent of which was the beautiful tinge of Nightshade and the sweet, sharp scent of poison apples.

"I heard of your accomplishments in your recent contracts. I am here also to promote you to the Eliminator rank. Well done, Sister."

"I am honoured, dear Speaker," Eliminator! I was elated; not only was I promoted, but the Listener himself came to do so.

Suddenly, Ocheeva appeared, clad in her armour, a short sword strapped to her left side.

"Speaker! It is good to see you," Ocheeva grinned, "we were not expecting you so soon."

"Ah, Ocheeva, may I have a word in private?" at this I took my leave, ducking my head respectfully at Lucien and then Ocheeva as I slipped silently out of the room.

Sleep overcame me as soon as I lay down in my bed a few minutes later. My dreams plagued me all night, presenting me with pictures of a dark future, but one dream was of an evening that was without fear, pain or grief.