Chapter 3: The Carcere

"Was that the first time you've ever used a spell?" Delric asked as both he and the Legate walked across the shore with his hands still in shackles. He kicked a pebble across the sand, and watched as it rolled off into the distance

"I've casted quite a few" The Legate muttered, a stoic expression engulfed her face. She held Delric's arm firmly with her left hand, while her other gripped her imperial Gladius. She continually turned her head back towards the forest they had just escaped from, her eyes giving off the tell tale signs of continued paranoia. Delric stared at her quizzically, as she again turned back for perhaps the five hundredth time, her eyes again casting a long glance into the forest. Suddenly Her expression dampened slightly, however immediately returned to it's stoic expression as she stared forever forward. Shaking his head, Delric opened his mouth to tease the woman on her lies about casting spells when he noticed an Imperial man walk briskly towards them, his hands behind his back, and his head held high. He turned towards the legate to noticed that her stance had changed. Her arms had moved to her side, and her head bowed slightly.

"General Servius." She said, bowing her head as he approached. The General completely ignored the Legate's courtesy, and instead kept his hands behind his back.

"Legate, report. Why has no one from Ebonheart sent word in the past five hours?" The Imperial General asked. The Legate shifted her weight a bit, clearly uncomfortable in that answer she was about to give.

"Ebonheart no longer stands, General. Daedra have reduced it to only rubble, the few that survived the initial attack were later killed." She looked towards Delric. "Only I and this prisoner remain after the attack." Delric looked at the General's face, looking for any hint of his reaction. To his surprise, the General looked completely unfazed at the news.

"That is fairly unfortunate. However forts fall eventually, even Imperial ones. " The General stated matter of factly, raising his hands to caress his mustache. Delric looked in complete shock at the General's uncaring for what occurred at the Stronghold. Taking a look at the Legate, he could tell she was equally as amazed.

"Are you not going to question the Daedra attacking Ebonheart?" The Legate ask, her voice beginning to raise in pitch.

"You're obviously delirious the last time Daedra have openly attacked Tamriel was when a Daedric Prince attacked the Imperial City, and I don't see any flying Dragons around here. " The General said, spreading his legs a bit as he kept his hands at ease behind him. Delric could not believe what he was hearing, he began to open his mouth when the Legate let go of his arm. Surprised by the sudden action, he turned to the Legate to notice that her hand was shaking over her sword.

"I am not delirious. Far from it, sir." She said, a tad bit of venom in her voice. "I saw men and women die around me by beasts who have spawned from the deepest pits of Oblivion, and here you have the audacity to tell me it was simply a dream? Some kind of Nightmare?!" The Legate accused, her voice nearing a shout.

"So you wish to raise your voice? Along with attempting to threaten me? Perhaps you will learn not to be so belligerent as an Imperial Watch on the borders of Elsweyr." The General countered, his voice calm but cold. The Legate's face was washed with anger and rage, her hands having fully gripped the hilt of her sword. Delric watched as he expected the Legate to completely sever the head of this arrogant Imperial, but to his surprise she relented. Sighing, she grabbed the Breton's arm, and began guiding him to one of the many Imperial ships. Once they were out of earshot, Delric looked up to the Legate, seeing that her face now lacked the stoic expression she had before. Instead it was replaced with a look at was lost on Delric. 'Is it pain? Regret perhaps?' he wondered to himself.

"The Carcere, it's a nice ship." She muttered, her voice low. Her sudden communication quickly made Delric become aware again to the present.

"This one?" He pointed to the long ship that they were walking towards. It was of obvious Imperial make, with strong Colovian wood making up most of the deck. Upon the sails was the flag of the empire, flapping graciously in the slight breeze. However the female Imperial had declined to answer his question, instead she simply lead to a ramp that would take him up to the Carcere. Hanging his head low, and shuffling his feet across the sandy shore, Delric boarded the ramp.

The cell he had been given was immensely small, and smelled of waste. The area had been made completely out of a dark wood, as was the rest of the ship. The only non wood portion of his cell was the bars that locked him inside, those being made of a dark silver, commonly seen in Imperial constructs. He had been denied a bed, and instead was rewarded only a pile of hay, without a blanket to cover himself. Next to said hay pile was a small bucket, not even big enough to fit a child mudcrab. Delric sincerely hoped that bucket was for food, and not for his excrements, however he could not find another other suitable bucket in his cell, making him feel that it was indeed for the latter activity. Sighing, He sat down on the hay pile, looking around his cell and shaking his head. During his time as a Lion Guard he had found himself in fairly luxurious spacings, from the exquisite balconies of a castle in Hammerfell, to admiring the beautiful nights of Elsweyr. His new position was of a stark contrast to what he was used to, however it did not bother him too much. The change that haunted him more so was being on the front lines of battle. He had never watched so many men and women die before him in his life. Lowering his head on the haypile, he began to close his eyes, as the faces of the dead and those he had to leave behind haunted him.

Delric awoke to the sound of a muffled screams. Waking up, he instincivly grabbed at his side, cursing as he remembered he no longer had his trusty sword with him. Picking himself up quietly, he began to conjure a ball of flames in his right hand. He walked over to the bars the kept him inside his cell, and peered into the darkness. Although he couldn't see fairly well in the dark climate around him, he was able to see what looked like the body of the Imperial guard stationed to guard him sprawled across the floor. His hands shaking, he turned his gaze upwards, only for his mouth to become slightly ajar in shock. In front of him him stood the Imperial Legate he had traveled through the forest with only a few hours ago. Her golden hair was now in a long braid that hung on her shoulder. Instead of Imperial armor, she now wore plain brown leather, with a sliver pauldron on her sword arm. As Delric continued to look at her in his confused state, the former Legate walked up to his cell door quickly, holding a set of keys.

"Can you fight?" She asked, unlocking the door and pushing it open. With the door now open, she turned back towards the Imperial Auxiliary and began looting his person, removing a bag and dagger from his body. Delric, having now gotten over his confusion, walked out of his cell with his hands kept behind his back, the flames from before still burning in his right palm.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked, ignoring the previous question.

"Because the Empire refuses to acknowledge what I… what we saw." She said, placing a dagger in his hands.

"So you're just going to do what? Walk off the ship? I don't think your general is going to let you do that."

"Exactly. That's why you're going to help me. There's a small row boat on the upper left side. We'll commandeer it and get off the Carcere." She stated, dragging the Imperial Watchman into Delric's cell, locking the door as she exited it.

"Is he…?" Delric asked, pointing towards the guard.

"He's knocked out. Didn't know you had compassion for those who imprisoned you?" She mockingly replied, unsheathing her sword and heading towards the ladder. Taking another glancing look at the man, Delric turned back to the woman.

"And I didn't know you had a sense of humor" He muttered as he followed after her.

Delric plunged his dagger into the neck of the Imperial he had been fighting against, the Colovian silver easily penetrating the skin and successfully creating a well sized gash in the man's throat. He then removed the dagger with quick pull, causing the Imperial guard to fall to the ground lifeless. Wiping the blood on his ragged and dirtied pants, the Breton sheathed his dagger into his pocket and walked over to where the Legate was standing. Her Gladius was deep inside the belly of another Imperial watchman who had been guarding the entrance to the jail cell area, the poor guard's face was contorted in a look of pure horror as she removed the blade from the young man's stomach. Standing next to the Imperial woman, Delric nodded at how she had swiftly dispatched the guard, with the fact of her being an imperial female. He would of expected a woman of the snows of Skyrim to have easily been able to kill people in the way the legate did, however he was more so skeptical for other races, especially the ditzy imperials. The Legate's glances towards him however, had broken Delric's from his train of thought.

"Perhaps you could wander around my body with your eyes, after we get off the Imperial prison ship?"

"Wha- what?" Delric stuttered, honestly surprised that the Legate had thought he had been sizing up her body.

"You heard me. Now come, the rafts aren't far off." She said, breaking into a brisk jog. Sighing and shaking his head at the previous conversation topic, Delric jogged after her, keeping his dagger brandished just incase anymore guards appeared.

It had taken them longer than expected to reach the escape rafts, as the boats where located at the very tip of the Carcere. Wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow, Delric began to regain his composure as the two of them walked up to one of the small boats anchored onto the side of the ship. The boats where very small in size, and where crafted from the same dark colovian wood that the Carcere herself was made of. Delric placed his hand on the side of the small ship, feeling the smooth wood against his palms. As he turned back to say something to the Legate, an arrow whizzed by his head, lodging itself into the small craft behind him. Cursing, Delric turned towards the direction of which the arrow had come from, only to see multiple imperial archers had taken up a semi circle like position in front of them. In the middle of their semi circle stood General Servius, along with what appeared to be two Imperial Legates, one male, one female. Delric twisted his head to the side to see that the former Legate had brandished her sword and shield. Following suit, Delric twirled his knife in his right hand, as a ball of flames was summoned in his left. General Servius however, was not intimidated by the prisoner and his former legate. Instead he simply began to laugh, his roars echoing throughout the entire Carcere as his subordinates also let out tense chuckles.

"So Gilfre. This is what you do after a simple demotion to Praefect?" General Servius asked, wiping a tear from his eye as he calmed himself.

"A simple demotion? Do you really feel that I am so dense?" Gilfre questioned through clenched teeth. Delric looked at her, her face giving off a more so pained expression than an upset one.

"You were going to have me killed! Executed for not saving Ebonheart! I read your report to the Elder Council, in which you claimed that I openly allowed Hammerfell and High Rock to outright stomp in and murder the strong men and women that died at Ebonheart on that fateful day." Gilfre screamed, a tear falling down her cheek.

"I lost more friends and family than I could count." She muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. As Gilfre recomposed herself, Delric turned back to stare Servius in the eye, wondering how a man could possibly be so sick. However, the General did not apologize, nor did he give a look of pity. Instead, he simply laughed.

"Oh dear girl… You truly must have bumped your head at Ebonheart." Servius said, his laughter winding down to a close. He then looked at Delric, his face dropping as he eyed the prisoner.

"Kill them." Servius stated as he turned his back and waved his hand. As he walked away, his legates filled in the gap his presence formally was in, both of them unsheathing their swords.

Time around him seemed to slow for Delric as he raised his hands, a protective ward spell erupting from his fingertips. In his right hand Delric had dropped his dagger, and instead flames engulfed his entire palm. Time continued to move like a first born child as Delric looked upwards, the arrows in the archers bows having yet to even leave their fingertips, the Colovian metal shining from the moonlight. Bringing his left hand in front of him, Time suddenly erupted into it's normal pace, as arrows collided with Delric's ward. However, He did not faultier. Holding his left hand out high, he slowly began walking forward as arrows bounced from his ward a kin to a barmaids hips. The archers stood, shocked by Delric's sudden use of magic, making the mistake of not reaching to their quivers. Using this slip up to his advantage, Delric raised his right hand and thrusted it forward, causing streams of orange fire to jumped from his fingertips and through the air, twisting and churning like a mad bat out of the pits of Oblivion. The stream quickly came in contact with some the archers, surprising them even more than the ward, and forcing them to scramble to the floor and attempt to remove their leathers. As Delric continued his burning onslaught on the idiot Archers who hadn't dove for cover, Gilfre was engaged in a tense sword fight with the two legates that had originally accompanied General Servius. She was forced to fight in a extremely defensive manner, as the two Legates hit her with barrage after barrage of sword swipes, in an attempt to get her off her balance. However, Gilfre had trained and sparred with these two particular Legates on multiple occasions. She ducked and dodged their attacks, while she performed what little counters she could. The male Legate, having gotten tired with her playing the defensive card, brashly brought his sword over his head and charged at her, hoping to catch her off guard somehow. However, instead of raising her sword, Gilfre raised her shield, and bashed it into the face of the male Legate. Stunned, the Imperial dropped his sword and reached for his nose, having completely disregarded the fact that he was inches away from death. Finally having been given the opening she was waiting for, Gilfre lashed out, he sword plunging into the man's chest, and then slicing upwards, effectively gutting him from the chest up. Swiveling on the heel of her foot, Gilfre turned and raised her shield just in time to deflect an attack from the female Legate, who's attacks had become more furious than before after losing her companion.

As Gilfre continued to fight the other Legate, Delric had since then been hiding behind a pile of crates, having been exhausted from his over use of magic. Peering his head over the crates, he saw that most of the Archers had dropped their bows, and where instead pacing towards his hiding spot with daggers and short swords, the metal still shining from it's lack of use. Turning his head back and resting it against the crate, Delric began to think of some way to get himself out of his predicament, when suddenly he felt himself sliding forward. Surprised, and a bit spooked, Delric began to move backwards when suddenly he felt the whole Carcere being tilt to the left. The crate he was hiding behind violently slid forward, and Delric slid along with it, his hands attempting to grasp for a handhold, but only reaching air. However, as soon as the tilting occurred, it stopped, and the ship returned to equilibrium. Slowing standing up, He looked around to see that everyone who had been fighting where now picking themselves off the floorboard as well. Looking to his left, Delric spotted an Imperial short sword next to one of the Archers who had yet to recover from his tumble. Acting fast, Delric quickly sprinted to the downed Imperial, kicking the man in the face and requisitioned his sword. The metal was unsurprisingly light, and was of a light gray silver, clear evidence of it's Imperial craftsmanship. Turning to where he had last saw Gilfre, he was instead granted the surprise of lizard like creatures boarding the Carcere from a ship that had pulled up alongside the Imperial Prison boat.

"Argonians!" One of the Imperial Archers cried, causing the rest of the Imperial's aboard the Carcere to look to the sudden invaders. However, Delric was more so occupied on getting to Gilfre and then escaping the ship. His eyes scanned the boat, catching sight of more Imperial's appearing from below deck to combat the sudden attackers. Finally, his eyes fell upon Gilfre, who was moving towards the safety raft with a knapsack in her hands. With a set goal insight, Delric began making his way towards the safety raft as well, his body hugging close to the edge of the ship in an attempt to not bring attention to himself.

"Looks like they could use some help." Gilfre muttered as she threw the knapsack into escape raft and began untying the knot that secured the small ship to the Carcere. Delric, who had just gotten over to the escape boat gave her a questionable glance.

"You feel remorse for them?"

"Is that even a question? Of course I do! The empire is my family. My home." She motioned Delric onto the boat as she got onboard herself, her hands still holding onto the rope to ensure they don't fall prematurely.

"But didn't you say that the empire wanted you dead? How could you still possibly consider them family?" Delric asked as he sat down within the boat, picking up the knapsack and taking a brief look inside. Meanwhile, Gilfre had let go of the rope that had holstered the ship to the Carcere, causing them to fall down into the navy blue ocean.

"That's because they where the only family I've ever known." She looked at Delric with a sad glint in her eyes. "What of your family? Did they not fight? Disagree?" Delric moved uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly he felt nervous around this woman. He could already feel a knot in his stomach from their close proximity.

"My family is dead. Has been for a while." Delric stated as he looked out to the ocean, finding a calming sensation in the darkness of the water.

"Oh… I'm..I'm sorry." Gilfre said frantically as she attempted to stammer out an apology. Delric gave her a sideways glance and then turned back to the sea.

"Let's just not talk about it."

Authors Note: God this chapter took so long like I can't even. I promise updates will never take nearly 3 months ever again.