Author's Note: A bit late, but bear with me a bit because this week I've been busy. However, I managed to complete this and half of the next chapter early—early in my definitions, anyways.

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Chapter 7: The Forbidden Grotto

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It was a warm sunset, he decided. The sun was only partially visible now, sending shades of orange on the waves of the deep blue ocean. A breeze pressed a soft kiss on his skin. And before Josephus entered the mouth of the cave, with an excuse of a torch held in his other hand, the sun was gone. Paradise behind him was dark, and there was little he could see then, and so he pressed on into the looming darkness of the cave.

The throbbing in his head, no doubt a fever from his wound, only increased as he continued slow steps at a time. He blinked more than he should have, for the brightness of the torch was too much for him. And the cold of the cave; it was as if the gods were cruel.

He was careful on avoiding the pools of water and stalactites, but it was still too much for him to form a single command for himself. Josephus was already weary, and a day had barely passed in this forsaken Paradise. What a pathetic, useless scum I am. I suppose I couldn't avoid my death, however I prolong it. A cave as a permanent grave sounds nice...

A small puddle managed to trip him, and he crashed down on the floor with his torch rolling downwards, even farther away. If he had the strength and willpower to, he would grab it and check his surroundings... unfortunately, he did not possess them.

Though, the dimness around him was a nice change from the obnoxious light of the torch. Maybe he could sleep for a while...

A low snarl sounded from somewhere in front of him, and knowing better than to risk discovery in his fevered state—however convinced of his death coming closer than he wanted—Josephus fumbled around, trying to drag himself forward through the ice cold rocks, to quench the torch. His adrenaline rush forced him to crawl, sending stabs of pain through his chest, but he pushed forward. The source of light was only a reach away.

He caught the wood and quickly threw the torch into one of the deeper pool of water. That was when he heard a scraping, like claws on rock, just a few feet away from him. Damn. Just when I'm ready to end it all... He tried to back away from the creature, unclear in the dark, but the sound of its movements clearly screamed out daedroth.

Brilliant.

As silent as he could, he drew out his sword. The effort could have been easier if he was in a fitter state, but he did not care so long as his sword was in his hand. It felt heavier than before, though previously it was as light as a feather. A tail of fire snaked around the blade, dim enough for him to see the rocks in front of him, albeit only barely.

Then, he heard a humane voice that was neither Xivilai nor daedra. "Come out now!" the voice, a male, shouted, and Josephus' heart beat faster as he heard footsteps in front of him, getting closer and closer... "I know you're here!"

If he were to just lie there and do nothing, he would die. If he fights, there is a small chance of coming out alive.

A smallest chance, a friend in the Thieves Guild would always say, is still a chance. He took a deep breath, trying to sit up. The effort itself was draining his energy quickly, but he murmured a word of prayer and stood up. The world went spinning as Josephus tried to balance himself on the uneven floor of the cavern. He groaned and with his free hand massaged his temples. It was burning, and the fact made him feel he would not make it out alive.

"I heard you!" the voice cried out, and Josephus heard it come closer. It was now or never, so he went closer to the walls, the shadows, and stood so still it felt comfortable. The coolness seeped into his back, and he allowed himself a few seconds of that before the light the source of voice was carrying went closer and closer. "There's no use in hiding—you will not survive."

He hoped years of stealing foodstuff from the market district back in his pre-adolescent era of life would still be useful in this matter. The man, illuminated by the torchlight, was wearing Mythic Dawn robes, a poor choice of apparel if he was to guard the Forbidden Grotto. Feeling relieved by this, Josephus emerged from his hiding spot and quickly lunged in for the Mythic Dawn's sides. The crimson of his blood was invisible compared to his robes. His eyes bore deep into Josephus', hatred burning inside them until they closed and he fell to the ground.

It was barely a second before Josephus went down with him, having no power to simply stand. He laid his face on the smooth surface of the rock. The fact that the man's corpse was only inches away from his own was lost upon him. The cold helped his fever cool down, even if a bit.

He sighed, knowing well that the empire's life depended on his own. It would be difficult to hide away the truth, especially a truth that had a meaning that deep. He had gone this far, into Mankar Camoran's own Paradise, and he could not fail this task.

Just in time, as if the man in question read his mind, Camoran's voice echoed throughout the cavern, "Do you tire already? The Champion of Old Tamriel, lying down to rest in my Paradise. A sad thing to know."

You want to die, Camoran? You will. Soon enough. His fury was fueled by Camoran's mocking. Despite nearly falling down again, Josephus managed to stand up, and take a steady step deeper into the cavern. There was an unnatural glow from somewhere that showed his way before him. And soon enough he found out.

A river of lava.

There was nobody else inside the torture area of the cavern besides himself and a man inside a cage, chained to the roof of the cave. The chain seemed to hold up another cage, but Josephus looked down into the lava enough to know that while the man was safely held up in the cage, his fellow prisoner was not fortunate enough.

He tried not to think too much about it; he did not need a reason to be nauseous just after mustering the strength to walk. He did, however, try to find a way to cross the lava. There was a frighteningly narrow stone bridge just to his far right, and once he was across he was forgetting the torture mechanism and would never want to know about it again.

Fate, however, did not want it so. He spotted a man—an Altmer, by the looks of it—standing just in front of the opening to the next chamber. The only thought that occurred to him was, Oh shit. I'm next.

Stopping to unsheathe his sword, Josephus straightened and held his enchanted weapon in front of him, stopping the Altmer who was approaching him. Curiously enough, he did not seem to be in a hurry and did not draw his weapon... if he had one. From this distance, Josephus clearly saw that he was not wearing a sword belt. "I mean no harm," the Altmer said, holding his hands in front of him to further convince Josephus of his innocence. Still, the thought that the Altmer would push him down into the lava was very much possible.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" he demanded, his patience running thin as he pictured himself lying down on the bed of lava, "You could be working for Mankar Camoran—oh what am I saying, you're obviously sent by Camoran to finish his dirty work for him, that cowardly piece of—"

"I no longer work for Mankar Camoran, if that is what you are saying," the Altmer interrupted. His brown eyes were scrutinizing Josephus' hands, and only now did he remember he was wearing those damned Bands of the Chosen in the first place.

Josephus scowled as he raised his hands in front of him, to show the elf a clear view of his wrists, "Here, if you wish to gape at them. Bloody things didn't even do anything." The Altmer looked curiously at them, and did not say anything else, which drove Josephus over the wall. "Take them, if they're valuable pieces of jewelry to you!" He reached for the clasps of the bands, his palm whitening as he put all his strength in trying to rip it off.

"You wear the bands, but you're no prisoner," the Altmer finally said as he straightened up again, and his voice was laced with curiosity. Josephus gave up on trying to take the bands off and cursed, but the Altmer paid no mind. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm having a holiday, that's what," Josephus put his hands down and sighed and thought for a while; would it be safe to trust this elf? So far, the only people he met in this plane were immortals who dreaded every second of their life, or the exact opposite, expecting Camoran to pay his end of his bargain of making them lords of Tamriel reborn. Then there were the daedra, if they could be called people. And that Mythic Dawn member too. Only one person stood up to what she believed in and risked her life for him. Could this elf have the same belief—that Paradise was a prison, a place that you were guaranteed a lifetime of torture despite its beauty—as that woman?

There was no harm in telling his main goal, but to tell him the how and why, was left to be known. "I'm here to kill your master, Mankar Camoran."

The Altmer's golden eyebrows sprung up in surprise, and mild disbelief, "Can you really do it? Can you really bring this eternal nightmare to an end?" Then he is the same as that woman, thank the Nine. The elf's voice was quieter when continued, "Can you defeat Mankar Camoran, and free the souls of the poor fools who followed him?"

Josephus had barely opened his mouth before the elf cut in, "Listen, I can help you. You need my help if you are ever to leave the Forbidden Grotto."

"Don't speak so quickly," Josephus replied, feeling his head spin the more the Altmer's words registered in his mind, "I would prefer to defeat Camoran with a functioning mind." He took a deep breath and released it, and then the realization hit him. "Why would you want to help me?"

The elf nodded at his question, but Josephus doubted he actually listened to his request, because the elf spoke in the same tempo as he did before, "I was at the sack of Kvatch. They had no chance; we carried them by surprise, and we carried the walls in the first assault. But they fought on anyway. Desperately," the elf shifted his feet, "They think this decadent, mundane world of theirs was worth defending."

"Because it was," he retorted, another wave of fury taking him. Thankfully for the Altmer it did not compare to the rage Josephus had for Camoran. He sighed and let the elf continue.

"I was slain after the battle was over, and I was told to look for survivors. Three townsfolk attacked me while they were hiding in their cellar." Now, it was the elf's turn to scowl, "They tore me to pieces, although I have no doubt my companions immediately killed them."

Josephus was about to say that he deserved that death, before he stopped himself from losing an ally. This elf showed up to help, and what kind of a man would Josephus be if he declined it? Besides, in this state, he needed an extra fighter to make up for his own pitiful inability.

"I've had plenty of time to ponder about my deeds since I came here. Ponder, and regret. An eternity of regret." The elf shook his head slowly, sadness etched in his face.

"Then how did you end up here, so depressed over it?" Josephus can't help but ask.

"For my weakness, the Master sent me here," he said, "To torture my fallen comrades who showed similar ingratitude for his gift of eternal life." Then, his face brightened if only in the slightest, "I wish to redeem myself in the last seconds that Paradise exists. If you would truly succeed in doing your task, then my soul will be free."

And so will that woman's, and every immortals trapped in here. Taking him to have revenge on his master probably was the kindest thing Josephus could do to the elf. He put his hands on the elf's shoulder, "You will have what you ask for."

The Altmer smiled and nodded, "Thank you. There is little to tell about me if you would need my life's story for trust reasons. My name is Eldamil, and I am here to... torture the souls who were ungrateful for my Master's gift. There isn't much time that I can spare conferring with you, but trust me when I say that so long as you act like my prisoner, you would not be harmed."

You mean risking getting encased in lava? Josephus only raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Do they know that Camoran expects me? We—you could say that you caught me on my courageous quest through the grotto. It would explain my armour."

"I could tell them that. Follow me," Eldamil turned around to go through the opening, and there were torch sconces on the wall to provide light. Josephus squinted from the brightness of the chamber, but followed the elf, slowly and cautiously. His mind was screaming to himself that this seemed almost mad that he threw his life into this elf's hands, but if what Eldamil said to him was true, that he could help then it would be worth the trouble...

A dremora appeared from an adjacent room, two more following behind him. When his eyes met Eldamil's, and then Josephus', he scowled. "What's going on here? Who's this?" he demanded, raising his hand to stop his lackeys.

Eldamil looked to Josephus and showed disgust, "A prisoner, sent in by—"

"Show some respect, worm!" he roared, hitting the elf's face before crossing his arms, "Unless you want to end up in the cages with them."

The Altmer recovered quickly and did not even rub his red cheeks, "Yes, kynreeve, Sir. This prisoner was sent in by Kathutet for questioning. I was about to begin."

The dremora's face twisted into a questioning look, but did not stop scowling, "This is not one of Mankar Camoran's chattels from the Garden. Who is he?" He turned to look at Josephus, and he quickly looked down when he felt a shiver run down his back. Luckily, the dremora did not question the prisoner himself.

"Nothing escapes your vigilance, kynreeve. Kathutet wondered as well. This is why he sent him for questioning." Eldamil's eyes did not turn to Josephus, but even from his field of view he could see that Eldamil was worried that the dremora would not believe his story.

The silence was starting to make Josephus anxious and worsened his fever. He let out a breath that fell to deaf ears, for the dremora only responded with, "Very well then. Carry on."

Eldamil's relief was evident in his tone, "Of course, kynreeve." He then turned to Josephus and scowled, "Follow me, prisoner," he ordered with bitterness. If he was not informed earlier of the elf's plans, he would have fought back, but he only nodded limply and followed Eldamil back to the room with the cage. For a second, Josephus feared that he would be lowered into lava the moment Eldamil pulled a lever, and the cage that was deep in lava was pulled out. Once it was leveled with the floor, Eldamil went over, grabbing Josephus' hand roughly. "Come here," he said, and let go of Josephus as harsh as he could.

He undid the latches of the cage's gate and pushed Josephus in, and he nearly crashed with the unlucky former prisoner whose body was charred. Josephus' fear was not even pretend. The three dremora entered the room and looked at Eldamil with approval as he closed the gate shut. Josephus grabbed the bars and tried to reach Eldamil's hands to stop him from pulling the lever, but it was no use as he was lowered. He screamed as loud as he could, his head hurting because of such noise. He felt the lava licking the cage's floor and he had to hop from foot to foot if he didn't want to feel the heat.

Suddenly, the cage stopped. Deafened by his own screaming, Josephus could only hear the dremora's boots clanking as he walked away, and then the cage was pulled up once more. He blinked in disbelief at his well placed trust, and then to his ally when he could look at him.

"Open the gates on the other side, and meet me in the other room. We need to take care of Orthe."

The three dremora, Josephus thought quickly as he undid the latches just as Eldamil innocuously showed him a few moments ago. When he opened them and felt the cold rock beneath his feet, he nearly sang for joy but reminded himself not to be a fool, especially in a task so important like this.

Strangely feeling rejuvenated, he ran to the other room as silent as a thief would when one spotted a very rich man, holding fat purses of coin and other treasures. He gripped the hilt of his enchanted sword and felt such energy he never felt before. Before he knew it, he faced one of Orthe's lackeys and unsheathed his sword just in time to block a deathly blow, almost disbelieved at his own skill. He took care of the dremora quickly, and ran in search of his new found friend.

A bolt of lightning caught his attention as it struck something on the other side of the room Orthe left to. Eldamil was casting shock spells from one palm and then the other, never stopping until Josephus went to Orthe, who was already weakened, and kicked him and he landed on the floor, with what Josephus speculated a few broken ribs. One thrust of his blade, and it was done.

Another dremora ran inside the room in search for his friends, but upon seeing his master dead, and then Eldamil and Josephus staring at him, he wasted no time in running away. Eldamil did, however, channel a spell that even Josephus could feel its power and another bolt of lightning hit the dremora, and it fell down.

Fascinated, Josephus did not realise that Eldamil was now beside him. The Altmer looked paler, and was breathing heavily as a result of using so much magicka, but when Josephus wanted to speak, he only shook his head and quickly said, "The bands."

Wordlessly, Josephus raised his hands and watched as Eldamil casted a spell that wrapped the bands in a white glow, and then it finally broke free from his hands and fell down beside Orthe.

A bit of his headache lessened, his fever cooling down to merely a light-headed feeling, and he sheathed his sword with much better finesse than he did when his hand was wearing the tight bands. "This is a relief."

"Indeed it is. Shall we go onwards?" Eldamil walked towards a way that led to another part of the cavern, and Josephus vigorously followed. Mankar Camoran would be only a reach away at this rate.

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Phew. I never thought I would manage to write this chapter, especially since half of it was never written before and since I couldn't play Oblivion—curse you computer and curse you constantly-crashing-engine—this chapter was difficult to write. But here it is. Here it freaking is.

NicciP1991: Thank you! Hehe, Martin was starting to be hell to write, but it was fun. Glad you enjoyed it, and no worries, the story will unravel soon.

(Or, depending on my updating speed, not that soon.)