Thank you all once again for the reviews, opinions, and critique. I'm glad that you enjoy reading this story and also submit to me any advice and ideas that you would like to see happen in later chapters and such. I do hope you enjoy!
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She stumbled clumsily down the ramps with a heart which was smoldering beneath her breasts. Sweat burdened her body causing the fabric of the tunic to become rather irritated to her porcelain skin. Her feet scarcely skimmed across the frozen limestone as she sprinted down the steeple's gigantic spiraling ramps. The dimness enveloped her and caused her mind to be blind to the objects around her. With one inaccurate bound she could plummet through the darkness of the tower and find herself pinned like a moth upon the jagged wicked crimson spikes of the body smasher. Her lips sealed as she dashed more rapidly. Her chest was burning and her legs were becoming anesthetized. How long could she carry on like this, she hadn't known.
Broga's black façade had blended flawlessly into the darkness that encumbered the tower. Even if he was truly following her he would only be a shadow in the rare amount of torchlight. The Altmer's breath was rushed as she inhaled profoundly then forced it out of her as if it were toxic. Her mouth hung agar as she rounded the final ramp. Her head pivoted as she looked behind her and only saw the shades of the tower. She swallowed a very sodden lump in her throat as she forced open the doors that led out upon the plane of Oblivion. As she cracked it open the light flooded into the tower causing the shadows to shriek in fear and retreat further away.
Elizabeth slipped out and allowed the arctic bustling airstreams to caress pass her brow. It made her freeze as it cooled the perspiration upon her body. The tunic pulled against her figure and her hair tossed wildly in the wind like silver fire. Her eyes widened and fell far beyond the path to see the Hero standing in front of the primary tower. His structure was heavy and he stood with the claymore clutched ever so tightly in his grasp. He tossed his eyes over and watched as she made her way to him. She just jogged over which allowed her body to lose the fatigue and regain some abandoned energy. The maiden lowered her eyebrows over her eyes as she inquired of the Hero, "How long will it take you to reach the Sigil keep?"
"If this is anything like Kvatch," the Hero deduced while pitching his dark eyes up the grand structure; a grimace upon his face. "... perhaps five or ten minutes."
"No, I need you to move even faster. Do not quarrel with any Daedra. Your only goal is to get to the keep and get that stone, do you understand?" Elizabeth told him while swiping the claymore from his hands. She turned and looked back the way she came. She feared Broga and hoped that she would not, yet again, succumb to his will.
"What about you?" inquired the Hero as he stepped forward and placed his firm gloved hand upon her tensed shoulder that was dampened with a mixture of sweat and forgotten tears. "I won't leave you here alone!"
Her head pivoted back to him as she was to reply. Her gaze had hardened and she did not burden herself with the grief of Xilivicus' death. There were more important things then that. Her head shook lightly as she told him, "I am not alone... Dibella and Mara are with me."
The Hero stared at her in stupefaction. Her faith, even through these difficult times, had not faltered. She was steadfast to her beliefs and this brought respect to the image of Elizabeth that danced within the Hero's mind. He lowered his gaze for a moment and a thought appeared in his buzzing head. His hand lifted and dug beneath his chest plate. He gripped his necklace and pulled it over his head. His coils lifted with the necklace as if not wanting to let it go. When they fell, they had recoiled and soon shaped back into their customary order. "Here," the Hero wheezed as he placed the necklace over the maiden's head; minding her long curved ears. The necklace gleamed in the luminosity of the magma soon emitting a golden aura. "I believe... he wanted you to have this."
Elizabeth's eyes fell to the necklace and her heart swelled with excitement as she saw the beautiful blossom of Dibella and the magnificent golden rope of Mara. Her hand lifted and caressed past the solidified petals feeling a twinge of pain in her heart. Her smile was weak; however, it gave off much appreciation. Her hazy eyes lifted from the bullion adornment and turned back to the Hero, "... you haven't much time, knight... go." She nodded her head towards the door and insisted benevolently, "Go!"
The Hero nodded in comprehension soon rushing forward to the grand onyx archway that entered into the mouth of the heartless bastion. He involuntarily halted before the door knowing it would not be right for him to leave without saying a word of the wrong which he committed against her. He cocked his head and called out her name soon pulling her attention to him. He closed his eyes and croaked, "... I'm so sorry for causing you this pain."
Silence was her reply as she watched him with sympathetic eyes. Her heart was torn and beaten; however, it was not of her nature to hold vengeance in her soul, Bromus had taught her better then that. The Hero hoisted open the main doors and disappeared within the dark void that loomed in the mouth of the beast. Elizabeth wrapped her fingers even further around the claymore as she attempted to get a good grasp of the weapon. Her knuckles faded to white and she turned her back towards the gateway knowing that the only fighting she would do would be against her greatest fear.
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With the remaining strand of strength within his body, Daelon lifted himself from the sand of Oblivion. His limbs ached with pain as the aftermath of his battling had finally caught up to his body. Even though he wished not to admit it, it had appeared that the Dremora was right. The only strength he had gotten was from that accursed sword, not from Clavicus Vile. Curses and vengeance coursed through his thick veins as he turned his eyes towards this hellish scene of Oblivion. The towers loomed within the heavens, piercing the sky and drawing thick droplets of crimson blood. Lightning became the heaven's lone weapon for it struck the steeples of the towers sending off sparks that surged down upon the land like rain. Daelon looked apprehensively upon the Siege Crawler. One mere glance from the beast sent a bloodcurdling frisson down his icy spine. The Crawler had not seemed to be progressing, though. It seemed as if it were purely trotting in place. The Altmer advanced to find this cause. His feet were light across the soil as he proceeded further into this plane of Oblivion.
His eyes beheld a Daedric man standing before the lake of magma. His hands lifted to the sky with magicka emitting from his palms and spiraling in the air like waltzing billows of smoke. They held back this monstrosity from inching across the serrated unsteady terrain and exiting out into Tamriel. Judging upon the area around the Dremora, he wouldn't be able to hold his stance much longer. A pair of long uneven trails had been placed before him. The introduction of the marks appeared as footprints upon the sand. It appeared that the might of the Siege Crawler had prevailed over Xarovica's attempt to bring it to a halt and it pushed the Elder back upon the ground. He sweated droplets of blood as he pushed all his energy and might into holding this apparatus back. His bones would not be able to support such great stress for any longer.
Daelon felt his vigor seep out of his opened pores and through the cracks of his shattered ebony armor as it had appeared clearly to him that there would be no hope now for his life and the life of Tamriel. His limbs became feeble and he allowed his tensed shoulders to fall in disappoint. The ache of his shoulders began to burden him as he shifted his eyes across the horizon hoping that someone might heed his rickety bleak voice, "... Someone... help us..."
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Elizabeth tamed the beast hidden within her ribcage. She paced her breaths and focused her magicka on restoring her torn and battered muscles. Her grip; however, had still remained tight upon the hilt of the claymore. She had never held a claymore for her father only taught her to wield a dagger; nevertheless, she was sure that the basics for a claymore were that of the dagger as well. Her fingers straightened and then curled back around the hilt; loosening her muscles and strengthening her nimbleness.
Something feels wrong, Elizabeth told herself as she watched the tower door which she had come from moments before. Broga hasn't emerged... he was right behind me—I'm certain. Her nerves began to pull tight like the string of a bow. Each anticipating thought that had blossomed in her head pulled further back upon this string until it was beginning to unravel and finally snap. The maiden's eyes darted back and forth in front of her as she pondered the thought of the Dremora using any sort of magic. Impossible... he can't possibly be skilled enough to—her mind began to wonder and slowly she uncoiled a hand from the hilt of the Daedric claymore.
Her feet shuffled backwards upon the limestone step as she broadened her vision and looked in front of her instead of many feet away. With swiftness she lifted her hand and casted a detection spell. A purple haze appeared in her hand and slowly puffs of billows cascaded down upon her and slowly encased her. As it began to clear, a pinked churning smoke was before her. Her brow rose in dread and her heart fell in sorrow and slowly the purple haze turned to utter blackness. The immense figure of the Dremora formed over her and she quickly stepped back in fear of an attack.
A chuckle was sheltered in the Commander's deep throat as he leaned down and whispered lightly to her with pursed lips, "... your eyes are so beautiful, Elizabeth."
The Altmer scuffed her feet across the ground as she bounded away down upon the walkway. Emitting fumes from the fiery magma rolled over the maiden's feet as she neared the lake with a glare. Her grip tightened even more upon the claymore as she watched the Commander walk leisurely towards her. His hands were thrusted within his dark fabric pockets as he didn't even mind the enchanted rapier which was directed at him. His eyes were upon the ground and as he neared he looked up to the maiden with a broad grin, "... I see the Hero has entrusted you with my claymore."
"... Yours?" Elizabeth muttered while sidestepping away from Broga. Her eyes were glued upon the tranquil Dremora as she sauntered gently around him and at last faced her arched back to the substantial portico to the fortress.
Broga's face fell as he observed the wary Altmer. The blade still held high and waiting for its first taste of blood. The Dremora turned his head to a side as he questioned the girl in a rather oblivious tone of voice, "... hadn't he told you? On the other hand, neither would I. I mean," a laugh came through his jagged clenched jaw as he continued, "arranging to be the executioner of Xilivicus, the man you love, my... I don't believe I would ever confess that to you! I guess, your Champion thought the same... thing." Broga's voice grew pitiless with every word that fell from his parted lips. His eyes iced over with exasperation as he could see that Elizabeth was indeed confused of what he said. A smirk came to his lips as he endeavored to make it comprehensible, "... I had met with your Champion outside of this realm. I hadn't sought him for a quarrel, mind you. I confronted him about the rival we both shared..."
"... Xilivicus," finished the maiden with gnashed teeth.
"Naturally," Broga chuckled while stepping forward with his hands still restfully placed within his pockets. His smile faded and a scowl soon became his mask. "That is when I presented him with that claymore." The Dremora eyed the jagged designs of the blade with pride secluded in his heart. "Do you remember that letter that I had you write, my dear? I feared that he would not fight Xilivicus unless he had a good motive. Such is the way with every pretentious witless conqueror these days."
"So you gave him the note," Elizabeth had began to piece together all the current events with elder ones. Together they formed the faultless enigma and all the uncertainties that had blossomed in her mind now fell into the dark void of truth. "... and you put him upon the edge causing him to murder Xilivicus. Was it also you who turned him against me? Was it you who kept him from me in Anvil?!"
"The past is something I wish not to dwell upon," Broga explained with a desolate tone of voice as he hurriedly removed his hands from his pockets. His right hand gripped the smooth hilt of Umbra and he tore it from its sheath. The blade basked in the violet gleam as the Commander allowed the tip to fall by his side and wave back and forth like a pendulum of a grandfather clock, "I do not wish to fight you, Elizabeth. Stand aside and allow me to enter the tower and bring this catastrophe to an end."
The maiden's body shifted backwards ever further as she stood as the guardian of the gateway. Her sword pulsing with magicka as her eyes fastened upon the Commander with such hatred that it made the Dremora's skin crawl. Her jaws clenched together so tightly that she feared her teeth would surely shatter. A few spiraling strands of silver hair fell before her diamond shaped eyes as she spat through her teeth, "To proceed any further you must go through me!"
Broga's face hardened with annoyance as he began to walk forward. His muscles tightened as he contracted them all and then released them permitting his frustration to secrete from his pores. His voice was rushed as he informed her, "I haven't time for this meaningless quarrel, Elizabeth."
"Then make time," she retorted; immovable.
As the Dremora observed this maiden even more he could surely see family traits appear behind the porcelain mask that she wore. He saw the strength of her family. He saw the honor that had encased her at birth and grew within her each day of her life, transforming her into a miraculous and powerful woman. From their first encounter to their last, Elizabeth had grown so much in strength, spirit, and even wisdom. The Commander blamed Oblivion for that. Broga's ears perked in revelation as he felt much reverence for this Altmer. His soul had been taken so long ago and replaced with an empty spirit of programmed allegiance for if it were not for this he might have placed his blade down and spared her life.
However, that was not the man he was. His legs spread as he formed his stance and prepared himself for an attack. He lifted Umbra and gripped it securely with eyes fixed firmly upon Elizabeth. His parched lips parted as he informed Elizabeth with a ruthless voice, "... you know that I shan't express leniency, correct?"
"I knew you wouldn't," she retorted kindly, feeling her muscles begin to tense and a bottomless apprehension cause her stomach to churn and her entrails to snare into a bind.
With a sudden burst of energy, Broga leapt forward and Umbra became a blur as it was slung through the air in a merciless brutal fashion. Elizabeth wasn't given much time to counterattack; nevertheless, she was prepared to hinder the assault. The claymore was lifted and positioned in the air to oppose any of his attacks. Shards of the rapiers broke off of the original blades soon twirling into the air and becoming lost in the bustling wind. Their stances were precise in every moment for they both had been trained accordingly in swordsmanship. The Altmer grunted as a blow from Umbra had sent her falling upon the frozen granite of the pathway, her claymore somersaulting across the limestone and landing idly a few feet away with a metallic chime echoing out in the immediate area.
As her rear came in contact, immediately she felt a bruise beginning to flourish. Her eyes were clenched shut. In a moment she ripped them open and tossed her gaze up to see Broga heaving his blade downwards to strike her upon the crown of her head and finish the fight. Her heart thrusted adrenaline and fear throughout her body causing her to roll forward; in evasion. She was quick to react once she was out of the way from the fatal strikes of Umbra. Her muscles contracted as she placed one booted foot upon the ground like an anchor as she spun her other contracted leg soon tripping the Dremora. She could feel her bones nearly shatter when she had struck him. She gasped and jerked away as he came toppling down soon loosing grip on his own blade. Elizabeth hurriedly twisted upon her stomach as she made an attempt to press on towards her claymore.
Just as she was to lift off from the ground, Broga had pounced and wrapped his arms around her upper body. Their figures toppled back to the ground and the Commander held her even tighter soon forcing himself upon his back. His arms became two onyx boa constrictors for his biceps bulged and began to compact the Altmer against his own torso. Elizabeth's face twisted in dismay as she could feel the bones in her back begin to crack. Her mouth fell ajar in anguish as the Dremora pulled her even tighter to him. Breathing became a burden and the maiden's sight began to turn into a haze for everything altered to smog in her mind. Broga's broadening eerie grin twitched as he arched his thick durable backside and began to strain the maiden's body causing more air to discharge from her dwindling desperate lungs. With a final attempt to live, Elizabeth took her long piercing nails and dug them into Broga's hips. Her nails pierced his skin and began to slash away at his flesh in desperation.
The Commander attempted to ignore the fleeting twinge in his sides; however, the maiden began to grip at his torn skin and pull it apart as if she were tearing pedals from the blossom of a flower. The Dremora's skin began to peel away from the muscles causing a bloodcurdling rip to beckon to the senior officer. Broga's serrated teeth gnashed together as he groaned in excruciating pain soon releasing the maiden. Elizabeth gasped for oxygen soon rolling out of the Dremora's loosened grasp. Her hand reached up and pressed upon her heaving chest as she coughed like mad for a few seconds. Her vision restored to normal and her main ambition now was to rearm herself with rather Broga's blade or even her own. Her fragile body lifted itself back up upon rickety legs. Elizabeth attempted to balance herself; yet, it was of no use. For her near death experience had drained most of the vigor and nimbleness from her. Her body was a faltering structure and within her mind she was certain that she could not endure a fight with this Dremora any longer. Sweat glistened on her face as she stumbled forward to get her blade.
Broga's hands lowered to his sides as he saw blood gush onto his thick onyx flesh. His eyes grew to be overflowing with a distinct abhorrence and annoyance as they were tossed upon the maiden who had just freed herself from an embrace that nearly purloined her life. Upon seeing so much of his own blood gushing from the hashes in his sides, Broga turned to another side of his instincts to take care of the maiden. The instincts of an animal. The instincts of a Daedra. With detestation fueling his heart he placed his firm hands upon the granite walkway and quickly forced himself to stand. The overpowering vertigo that encircled the Dremora did not hinder him from pursuing the maiden. His feet shuffled faster across the ground as he moved into a sprint. In next to no time, he seized her by the shoulder and jerked her around. His jagged nails appeared as onyx knives that dug deep into her skin drawing mere droplets of blood. Elizabeth gasped in alarm and her face once again twisted in apprehension. Her brow began to tremor as the Dremora enforced his willpower and strength upon her causing her to fully face him.
With a sadistic shove, Broga pushed her back upon a substantial wedge of limestone. The blow had forced most of the breath from her lungs. Elizabeth could virtually see the air hurdle from her lips and vanish in the magma's wafting puffs of smoke. Her chest heaved for fresh air yet it was not exalted with it. Her pouted cherry lips were parted and her eyes were clenched shut as she felt a twinge of pain flood to the back of her skull. The vigorous Commander towered over the maiden with abomination pulsing from his pores. His trembling right hand pressed through the thick atmosphere and gripped the round pale jaw of the maiden. His fingertips dug into her supple skin as he pushed her head up, forcing her to face him. Her eyelids finally lifted and exposed two diamond shaped eyes. Broga mercilessly lifted her into the air, pulling her head closer to his. She gasped in pain as she could feel her neck muscles begin to pull and throb in agony. Her pupils disappeared in the sea of sapphires as fear overwhelmed her heart. Her combatant prevailed. It was rubbish to push on any further for Broga was so much more physically dominant and skilled than she.
This had become ever so clear to her now that the Commander had her pinned against a slab of stonework. He held her firmly to the slab knowing that if she did any harm to him now he could merely toss her into the embrace of the magma to rest alongside her dearly beloved, Xilivicus. A glitter of gold caught Broga's wandering eye and he glanced down to the maiden's hoisting chest. Mounted just above her breasts was the beautiful golden pendant of Dibella. The Dremora grinned and moved his unoccupied hand to the necklace. He entwined his fingers and the golden rope soon jerking it and breaking it into halves. The second half slithered across the maiden's neck soon falling off into the Commander's wide grasp. He lifted the necklace and chuckled, "Xilivicus' birthright... As long as you brandish this, my dear, so will you brandish the burden of his memory. Let me relieve your aching soul for this moment!" His voice cackled.
He gripped the necklace tightly and soon turned towards the lake of magma. With one great toss, the necklace spiraled through the air and soon fell upon the first layer of the magma. A petite fire rose around the golden necklace and the lava opened its hellish mouth soon swallowing the only memory that Elizabeth had left of Xilivicus. The maiden watched with mournful eyes as she could see another part of herself begin to die as the necklace vanished from her view. Her power left her just as everything and everyone else has. Her heart throbbed with ache as she could only watch everything she loved begin to turn to ash and vanish in the bustling wind. Broga turned his gaze back to the Altmer as he snarled to her, "Allow that necklace to wither into the dark void of bereavement and remind the Churl of who shall soon join him in death."
As the inevitable began to show upon Elizabeth's horizon, a tremor ran through the sands of Oblivion soon sending a rolling chill down the spine of the maiden and the Commander. Confusion ran across their faces as they began to hear the crackling and demolishing of stone. Broga's stomach began to churn as he lifted his eyes and looked up to the tower. Parts of the establishment began to crumble and cascade through the air like ash. The Dremora lowered the maiden and soon stepped away; watching in disbelief. The secondary towers began to crumble and as they died they turned to pieces and plummeted into the pit of lava. The entire parcel of land began to tremor and wither away like a wilting rose. The Siege Machine discontinued its moving soon sinking deep beneath the magma's surface. The Sigil Keep burst into pieces and plummeted down upon the immediate area. As it came in contact with the ground, the fortification's remains detonated and turned to dark piles of smoldering rubble.
Elizabeth shuffled sideways in fear for if any part of that tower fell upon her it would surely be the end of her. Perspiration cascaded down her porcelain façade as she dodged tumbling remains with simple bounds either left or right. Broga's eyes lifted to Umbra and he knew that he could not allow it to be buried within the remains of this plane of Oblivion. He sprinted across the limestone with great swiftness and also great absurdity. The Altmer watched as an immense chunk of the tower's ribcage fell upon a direct path for the Black Dremora. Even though her hatred for this man ran through deep rivers, she would never allow herself to sink to his level; a murderer's level. Darting through cascading remains and billowing puffs of sand, the maiden made her way to the Commander. Her sight became blurred by the smoke looming around them; however, she pushed on. Just as Broga had kneeled to pick up the sword, Elizabeth had grasped his firm broad shoulders and jerked him backwards as she screamed over the shrieks of crumbling vestiges, "LOOK OUT!"
The plummeting remnants buried Umbra in an unfathomable tomb of rubble. One of the jagged pieces of rubble twirled forward and sliced Broga across the chest. The cut was deep and blood hurriedly gushed from his skin as if it were attempting to escape his vile body. The Commander grunted in grief as he fell back upon the ground with Elizabeth. His eyes ripped open and he looked upon the catacomb of Umbra, "NO!" He bellowed as he attempted to move forward; however, more rubble fell around them hindering his next course of action. "Do you know what you just did?!" He boomed to the maiden over the thundering noises around them.
"I saved your life!" She screamed back over the screaming explosions while giving him a spiteful glare.
A blinding white light exploded from where the Sigil keep was and Elizabeth hurriedly lifted her eyes to the firmament. Her eyes glistened an arctic crystal blue as the light reflected off her eyes. Her body was petrified and she became a pure statuette. The angered Dremora nearby clashed his teeth together as he knew within his heart that he only had a few seconds to extract his revenge before the maiden was whisked away by the wave of the prevailing ashen light. Upon the vibrating and shifting ground he attempted to lunge his body at the maiden imagining that if he held onto her tight enough that the illumination would relinquish her to him. Elizabeth's eyes fell back down to the Dremora just as he reached his hands forward to seize her. The Altmer gasped and jerked her arms up as a shield from his assault. Just as his fingertips touched her skin, his onyx hand turned to smoke and faded away around the maiden.
A rushing sensation overcame the girl as if she were tossed about within the vigorous yet gentle hand of the ocean. Her body slipped away within the river of white and her eyes turned upwards as she lay upon her back. Her arms were outspread as she welcomed the radiance. The brightness began to scorch her eyes forcing her to clench them shut; her face twisting in ache for a mere moment. The once snowy light dimmed to a dark river of blood. The river ran dry and turned to stone and reddened grass. The light formed into the bloodied and vacant battlefield of Bruma. Darkness rose from the earth and quickly formed the figures of the remaining guards who fought against the Daedra. Their brows were drenched with sweat and white vapors came from their nostrils and mouths as they heaved breaths out into the frozen air of the mountains.
Elizabeth tossed her gaze around curiously and suddenly a strident reverberating sound encased her as the Great Gate had been shut by the hands of the Champion of Cyrodiil. As the hellfire turned into a cyclone and disappeared into the darkened sky, the great skeleton of the Siege Crawler toppled forward and towered over the maiden. The Altmer gasped and instinctively she leapt to her feet and ran as the Siege Crawler plummeted to the ground sending freshly fallen snow and darkened chunks of soil to dance through the air and cascade back down like rain. Elizabeth pivoted her head and looked at the Crawler in disbelief.
They had won.
Tamriel had won.
The guards threw their arms in the air and hollered triumphantly with much pride in their hearts. Their echoing cries carried through the air and alerted Bruma of their explicit conquer and other parts of Cyrodiil. Elizabeth lifted her trembling fingertips, pushing back a few thick strands of her snow-white hair. Her widened diamond eyes surveyed the shattered charred spines of the Oblivions gates that had been defeated. Dizziness overwhelmed her as still she could not belief what she saw. From behind her, two arms appeared. They enveloped her and lifted her into the air as a laughing and rather joyous tone of voice came from her elder brother's lips, "Elizabeth! You're safe! God's Blood, you're safe!"
At first, the maiden had nearly leapt from her skin for the encounter had rather startled her. After she had recognized who it was, a grin pulled across her lips. When she was put upon the ground she spun around and leapt into her brother's arms yet again. Daelon laughed heartily as he clutched onto her back and buried his head into the scoop of her neck. His heavy warm breath rushed over her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes softly as she leaned her head gently upon her brother's flushed cheek. Her fingertips caressed over his ebony shoulder plates as she was rather joyous that her brother had made it through the war. Her head lifted and as she grasped his ebony armor she pushed him away a little and glanced up into his eyes. Her grin broadened as she asked him hurriedly, "Where are the twins? Are they at Cloud Ruler Temple? I can't wait to tell them the news—they... they'll be so happy to..." her voice faded into the wind as she looked upon her brother's façade. "... Daelon... what... what happened to the twins?"
Daelon's brow creased as he tossed his eyes away near the second gate. The gentle wind blew across his face causing a few of his dark strands to lift and point to the answer. Elizabeth pivoted her head around with an anxious feeling churning in her gut. Upon the crimson snow she saw Orrick kneeling besides a lifeless corpse of Caldwyn. Elizabeth felt the world fall away from her as she could only focus upon her brother's skin which was paler than the snow and harder then ice. Caldwyn's spirit vanished within the arctic breeze just like so many other spirits had on this ominous day. Daelon's eyes shifted to another part of the battlefield for a mere second and just as he was to turn away he felt his gut tighten. His head whipped back around as he gasped, "Elizabeth...!"
The maiden turned her head and felt the same sensation that Daelon felt sweep over her fragile body. Upon the snow banks lied the lifeless form of the Hero. Surrounding his carcass was a sheet of blood. The anticipated question that burdened both of the Altmers minds when looking upon this sight was: Does the blood belong to him or another fallen patron? From their side, Martin Septim appeared with excitement swelling in his eyes and faith in his heart. Just as he opened his mouth to congratulate Daelon and welcome back Elizabeth, the maiden sprinted forward towards the fallen Hero.
Martin allowed his gaze to follow the girl and soon he had saw precisely what it was that bothered her. His face creased in sadness as he wished for it not to be true. His heavy armored boots trudged through the snow banks as he made his way over. Elizabeth fell upon her knees beside the Imperial man. Her hands were gentle as they slithered under his thick golden tresses soon lifting his head up far enough to look upon him. His eyes fluttered open and shut as if his mind was wrestling with the thought of sleep. Through the haziness he saw Elizabeth's face. His eyes were held open only to an extent as he sputtered through pouted cherry lips, "... E...Elizabeth..."
She hushed him and with nimble fingertips she pushed hair from his face and leaned closer. Her eyes were wide with fright as she demanded of him, "I need you to stay awake, do you understand?"
"...so cold," he stammered incoherently through loose jaws as his eyes flickered shut.
"Stay awake! You must stay awake!" She spat while lowering her gaze to his armor. A tremor ran through her hands as she forced off his hefty cuirass. The steel felt like ice to her fingertips as she tried her hardest to loosen it and pull it from him. With each attempt to maneuver it, the Hero groaned in pain. At last, after much effort, the cuirass had burdened his weakened torso no longer. Elizabeth tossed it thoughtlessly out-of-the-way as her focus was now upon his dark navy blue tunic. The fabric had been slashed near his chest and the once cobalt fabric turned to a dark violet. "... There's not much time left," she whispered through the wind.
Martin arrived quickly and looked down upon the man who faded in and out of consciousness and life itself. The heir's eyes were skeptic; however, he knew he must have faith. "What do you need?" questioned he.
Elizabeth kept her eyes upon her knight as she seized the top of the tunic and quickly shredded it into halves in hopes to fashion a thick bandage out of the material. The fabric pulled away from the man's body soon exposing his strapping sun kissed torso. Across his chest was a deep crescent slash which spat blood with every breath that the Hero took. His chest heaved up and down rather lethargically alerting the Altmer of how much time was truly left. Her brow furrowed and her voice became rather thunderous as she attempted to carry her weakened voice over the bustling wind to Martin, "We need to get him back to Cloud Ruler Temple! Find me the fastest horse you can find in the Bruma stable! We haven't much time!"
The heir nodded in acknowledgement. His body pulsed with fresh adrenaline as he knew that the fate of this man would now loll upon his previously hampered shoulders. Martin pivoted around and speedily raced off through the battlefield, pushing past a few dawdling guardsman and members of the Blade. A few guards from the different provinces of Cyrodiil drew closer to the Hero as they had heard Elizabeth's voice carry over the howling wind. They became rather anxious for their savior as they saw his frail body lying helplessly upon the sheets of snow.
His dark woodland eyes opened to a darkening scene as he began to fade from consciousness. Feeling began to vanish from him and he became a man locked within the confinements of his own mind. His desperate cries for help were not heard by those surrounding him. He drowned within the darkness and the only thing he could see were those two sympathetic eyes that belonged to the lover of the man he had executed in cold blood. Those sapphire eyes turned to lingering puffs of smoke as he at last faded into a black stupor.
His ears rung with the melodic voice of the Altmer which called out to him as he laid to rest in the darkness of his mind, "... Hold on... please... hold on."
--TBC--
I do hope you Review... this is one of the last chapters and I know you want to tell me what you think -unless you just wish to Flame it... then keep the hatred to yourself- Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.