Saeana's Tale
"There must be a tree near the window," Saeana thought as she watched the shadows writhe against the frigid stone. The images making her shiver, she curled into a tighter ball on her prison pallet. It was a depressing thing to be locked up once again; she wasn't entirely certain as to why she was here, but she did remember being in a bar fight with an old man in a tavern near Bravil and taking a solid blow to the head, which would explain why everything that followed was a mystery.
"I must surely be dead and in the halls of Azura to look upon such a vision, you are so beautiful my dear Dunmer maiden." She looked up and saw another Dunmer in the cell across from hers, all but oozing through the bars with how hard he was pressed against them. "One of the guards owes me a favor, I could have us put in the same cell, would you like that?"
"Would you like a fork jammed in your eye?" she asked spitefully. She knew her prospects were limited, but she set her sights higher than a horny old inmate in the Imperial City prison. The scrawny man sneered at her.
"You ought to have some fun before the end," he hissed. She glared over at him, to his perverse delight. "Yeah, you heard me. No matter what the law says, no matter what they told you, you're going to die in here dark elf, you're going to die!" Punctuating his sentence, the door to the dungeon clanked open. "Hear that?" he taunted brazenly. "The guards are coming…for you…" he sniggered.
"S'wit," she muttered, dismissing his rant, but getting to her feet to see what the commotion was nonetheless. The prisoner's mental state had clearly suffered, from presumably years of incarceration, but still she felt uneasy.
"Baurus, lock the door behind us!" It was a woman's voice, but it rang with seasoned authority against the stones. Saeana pressed herself against the barred door, squinting in the darkness toward the stairs.
"My sons…they're dead aren't they?" She saw the figures descending the stairs as the man's regal voice preceded them, the sight causing her heart to quicken.
"We don't know that sire," the woman spoke, reassuringly. "The messenger only said that they were attacked."
"No, they're dead. I know it." The man's mournful acquiescence to the belief that his children had been killed made Saeana's stomach ache.
"And I thought I was having a bad day," Saeana thought remorsefully, suddenly not so unhappy about being imprisoned; it seemed like a far better alternative to this man's fortunes. As they came closer, Saeana could see they were heading toward her cell, just as the would-be lover across the way had said they were. Her stomach began to twist uncomfortably, and her hand began to shake. The group consisted of the one woman and three men. The woman and two of the men wore heavy armor the likes of which she had never seen before; the steel had clearly been tempered and hardened, but it shone like the surface of the Abeccean Sea, even in the dankness of the prison. It was accented with golden embellishments, almost certainly ornamental rather than practical, along the center of the breastplate and tassels at the top. The neckguard was also gold filigree and a creature of some sort, a horse or a dragon, perched atop the helmets with the face and neck serving as protection for the wearer's nose.
The other man was older but well built and, judging from his appearance, had to be royalty. His robes were purple and red, trimmed with snow bear fur and gold. Even in the dim torchlight, she could see his fingers glimmer with rings of the most precious metals and stones. If she was going to be executed, this was sure to be the most flamboyant executioner she had ever seen.
"My job right now is to get your to safety," the woman stated firmly, refusing to hear any negative statements. By now the group was at the door to her cell and the woman leading the group looked surprised and annoyed to see Saeana standing there, pressed against the bars. "What's this prisoner doing here?" Saeana felt her body flood with relief; they hadn't come for her. She wouldn't die this day.
"The usual mix-up at the watch, I-" the armor clad Imperial man sputtered, his plans obviously thrown into disarray.
"Never mind," the woman said tersely. "Stand back, prisoner; we won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!" Still somewhat shocked, Saeana apparently didn't react quickly enough for the hurried group. A blast of pain struck her in her left cheek, the force of which knocked her back, causing her to stumble over the pitcher on the floor.
"You, prisoner, stand aside, over by the window," the Imperial man's stance indicated he had just punched her, his fist still clenched. "Stay out of our way and you won't get hurt," he said as she pushed herself up, clutching her face.
"What do you think punching me in the face feels like?!" she yelped, staring down the scowling man. "Imperial guar fucker," she spat, looking the said guar fucker in the eye. This only served to piss him off further.
"Prisoner, get over by the window, now!" a new voice demanded. Staggering to her feet, she backed toward the window, keeping her eyes on the group, not willing to let one of them catch her unaware again. "No sign of pursuit ma'am," the younger man, a Redguard, said to the woman.
"Good, let's go; we're not out of this yet," she said, her tone all business, ignoring the fact that her lackey had just leveled a prisoner.
"Don't try anything…I'm watching you" the Imperial man said firmly, unlocking the cell door and staring directly at Saeana.
"Ooh, kinky," she said, trying to make the man feel uncomfortable as she sat up. From the way he flushed, she had succeeded. Following each guard with her eyes, she watched the parade of armor stride into her cell and over toward the wall on her right.
"You," the well dressed Imperial said in astonishment. Saeana turned her eyes to see the man staring at her as he walked over to her. "I've seen you." Getting to her feet, she felt the man's eyes meet hers without faltering, making her fear that she had done something on the outside to offend him. Gently, his aged hands welcomed her cheeks into them. "Let me see your face," he murmured. For some reason, despite the fact that his goon had just struck her, she felt comfortable with his hands on her. "You are the one from my dreams." The comfort she had felt was quickly replaced with wariness. "Alright, Old Man's having a stroke," she thought but, for some reason, she felt interested enough to not pull away.
"Then they stars were right, and this is the day," he realized, letting her face go. "Gods give me strength!" By this point Saeana was more than slightly confused; five minutes ago, she had been sitting quietly in her cell, contemplating the shadows on the floor and listening to the lascivious ranting of the prisoner in the cell across from her. Now, she had been punched in the face, her cell invaded and surrounded by enough armor and weapons to make her think she was in the Arena. Not to mention there was an apparently senile old man, whom she was certain she'd never met, claiming to recognize her.
"What's going on?" Saeana asked, wiping the tears on her wrist, her eye still watering where she had been sucker-punched.
"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next," the man said. His voice reminded her of an old leather armchair, comfortable and warm. "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell." He smiled at this statement; he seemed to enjoy that fact that she would most likely be able to get out of the prison because of this desperate escape attempt.
"Why am I in jail?" she asked plainly. This man was clearly important, and possibly had taken some part, however small, in putting her behind bars. Seeing as how she couldn't remember what had happened before waking up in her cell, someone had to know and this man could be that someone. For all she knew, this could be the old man with whom she had fought with at the tavern.
"Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet," the old man said, with a twinkle of strange mischief in his clear blue eyes. "As for what you have done…it does not matter." He shook his head slowly. "That is not what you will be remembered for." Based on that last cryptic statement, Saeana decided she needed to know the name of the person she had engaged in conversation.
"Who are you?" Saeana furrowed her brow, not sure if she was supposed to know the identity of this strange, albeit well-dressed, man. The man chuckled slightly, clearly amused that she didn't know who he was.
"I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim," he said simply, his voice commanding and powerful, though it was soft and dignified. "Well, the outfit makes sense now," she mused to herself, eying the man's garish wardrobe once again. "By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you too shall serve her in your own way." Saeana wondered if he had prepared his introduction, or if this was just the way he spoke.
"I go my own way," she said defiantly. Whatever the Emperor said, he was still the man who had authorized his troops to try and retake her homeland and she didn't feel a need to flagellate herself before him, or whatever "loyal subjects" were supposed to do when they met their rulers.
"So do we all," the Emperor agreed, to her surprise. "But what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty Gods?" he said paradoxically. "You will find your own path. Take care…" He trailed off, squeezing her shoulder with fatherly affection. "There will be blood and death before the end."
Before Saeana could speak up again, she found herself cut off by the woman who seemed to be in charge of this whole excursion.
"Please Sire, we must keep moving," she said, commanding his attention as she manipulated a few stones on the prison cell's wall. Saeana couldn't help jumping a little as the entire wall shifted, sinking into the dirt floor, revealing a wide threshold into an underground corridor. The woman in armor made a move to close the door as the Emperor and the Imperial man crossed the threshold, but visibly reconsidered her option. "Better not close this one; there's no way to open it from the other side," she explained to her followers as they proceeded through the doorway. The Redguard glanced at Saeana with a look of surprise.
"Looks like this is your lucky day," he said, disappearing into the dark, dank tunnel. Saeana lifted her eyebrows, not saying anything, but the phrase "you're not kidding," ran through her mind. The Imperial man shot her a menacing look.
"Just stay out of our way," he threatened. This time, though she kept her mouth shut, she made very clear what she thought about the man. Her manacles still hanging on her wrists, she extended her arm toward him, her hand flashing an unmistakable sign.
Following far enough back from the group that she wouldn't award them an opportunity to strike her, Saeana tried to listen in to the conversation. This was impossible; there was no conversation. It was frustrating to her that the one opportunity she had to listen in on the conversation of the honest-to-Gods Emperor, he and his associates weren't saying "boo". Finding another way of entertaining herself, she poked around in the darkness, looking for anything useful. There wasn't much in the way of treasure, but she did find a couple pieces of gold which she tucked into her bosom. It was her eye for things shiny that happened to catch sight of something gleaming in the shadows ahead of the Emperor and his cadre of guards.
"Look out!" she yelled, spying a glint of steel in the movement and remembering what the Emperor had said about assassins. On instinct, she leapt from her hiding place and jumped on the back of a maroon-armored figure, taking them both to the ground and remembering only a little too late that she was unarmed. Using the tools at her disposal, she grabbed the man's head and slammed it against the worn marble of the floor until he stopped moving.
She barely had time to recover her breath when she was dragged to her feet and punched on the left side of her face; another maroon-clad assailant had come up behind her and surprised her with a fist to the corner of her mouth. Now thoroughly pissed off, Saeana entwined her fingers and slammed her wrists into the woman's face, her wrist irons striking with fatal precision, ripping open the woman's cheek.
As the woman's corpse slumped to the floor, Saeana took the opportunity to search the bloodied body for anything useful, finding a small restoration potion. Tucking it into her pocket, she happened to hear the Redguard speaking.
"Are you alright Sire?" he asked as Saeana moved on to scavenge the other assassin. "We're clear…for now."
"Captain Renault?" the Emperor asked with a sort of lost hopefulness as he nodded toward their fallen leader.
"She's dead." The Redguard's voice was remorseful but frank. "I'm sorry Sire, but we need to keep moving." Finding nothing of use on the second body, Saeana climbed up the nearby stairs to rejoin the group. She was delighted to discover that there were two more bodies from which to salvage potions or weapons, though it was clear they weren't armored. It was strange, she knew she had seen the robed figures wearing armor. "It must have been Conjured," she assumed, happy enough when she found a small vial of magicka restorative on a body.
"How could they be waiting for us down here?" the Imperial guard asked, brushing past her with barely a second glance, and certainly no thanks for her having spotted the figures long before he had.
"I don't know," the Redguard said quickly, wiping the blood off of his sword with a handkerchief. "But it's too late to go back now."
"They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades." Saeana tried her best to not chortle out loud at the Imperial's bravado and outright cockiness. "I'll take the point, let's move." The Redguard turned around, staring directly at Saeana.
"You stay here prisoner, don't try to follow us," he said firmly as the Imperial opened a heavily reinforced wooden door, ushering the Emperor, who tried to take another look back, through the stone arch. "Fine by me," Saeana thought to herself. She had had quite enough of those in power for one day. Waiting until the group had left her alone in the eerie chamber, she knelt beside the fallen Imperial woman. She felt perhaps a little tacky stealing from a dead ally, as she had technically been, but necessity demanded that Saeana have a weapon and she found that the woman was amply armed. A steel shortsword and strangely decorated longsword came into Saeana's possession, as well as a small pouch with twenty pieces of gold in it. She contemplated taking her armor, but it was simply too heavy for her to use and would only slow her down were she to take it.
Feeling remarkably satisfied with herself, she almost missed the scratching noises and squeaking coming from a small, boarded up cavity in the wall nearby. As the noises grew louder, the eroded boards collapsed and Saeana was confronted with three rats grinning back with sharpened, menacing grins. She let out a grunt of disgust, and slashed through the humongous rodents with the longsword, hacking one in half lengthwise and decapitating the other two. When the last beast fell, she stared at the bodies for a moment, contemplating whether or not she wanted to harvest the meat from them. The money she could gain from selling the rat meat would be mediocre at best, but it would be a great deal more than she currently had. Staring at the already loathsome carcasses, the idea became too distasteful for Saeana to stomach, and she left them where they laid, smelling as though they had already started rotting.
There was little light in the cavern where the rats had made their home, but as Saeana had spent the past few months in a dim, dank prison cell, this hardly proved to be a detriment. Glancing around she saw a small well in the middle of the room, which seemed odd to her but she didn't care enough to question it. To her left, alongside the wall, she saw a skeleton sprawled out in front of a time worn chest, still clutching its shield, with a badly rusted bow around its back.
"Thank you sir," Saeana said needlessly, trying not to take any parts of the skeleton with her as she stripped it of its valuables. In a small pouch on the bony hip, she had a bit of good luck; she found not one, not two, but three lockpicks. Saeana loved lockpicks; she knew enough magic to open locks, but that could hardly compare to the thrill of feeling the tumblers fall into place, tapped in by her own deft hand. Moving on to the chest beside the skeleton, Saeana was delighted to find that it was locked and she would be able to use her newfound lockpicks to open it. The lock was simple and easily opened, giving Saeana the thrill of hearing the tumbler's aria as it gave way. As a result of her scavenging, Saeana came up with a bow, with about fifty arrows to go with it, a leather cuirass and shield and four more lockpicks. Feeling that it would be prudent to test the weapon before she actually had to use it, she took up the bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly toward the bucket of the obsolete well. The string held and the arrow flew straight, so Saeana was satisfied and continued her trek in the dark.
She helped a few more rats find their ways back to their maker but, to her surprise, rats weren't the only subterranean creatures living in the area. She was nearly tackled by a zombie that was trying to outrun the rats. Unable to draw a weapon quickly enough, Saeana moved as though she was snatching a fly out of mid air, heat building in her palm, and pushed her hand forward, propelling a small fireball toward the undead being. The attack was small, but fortunately the zombie was in rough shape and it took no more to take him down. Unfortunately, it wasn't small enough to escape the notice of the pursuing rats and Saeana was forced to repeat her arcane assault, the fire nearly blistering the skin of her palm. Wincing a little, she rubbed her opposite fingers against her stinging, but unblemished, hand and wished she had some of the calluses she had built up when she had studied in the Mages Guild chapter in Ald'Ruhn. Still, she couldn't exactly complain; she had eliminated a threat without causing undue harm to herself after having not used magic for quite some time and, if she used the attack more often than she should, she had found the magicka restoration potion.
Her good fortune continued when she found a few more locked containers, which allowed her to use her new toys. The locks were more carefully designed than the first and required a more seasoned hand, but it was the happiest she had been in some time. As she picked her way into a locked cask, she heard what sounded like men speaking. "What the hell…?" she pondered, taking a few paltry items from the cask before investigating the noise. Moving as quietly as she could, Saeana heard the voices growing loud enough to be recognizable and couldn't believe what she heard.
"We should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives." The voice was that of the retarded mud crab of an Imperial guard; the one who had struck her from the opposite side of her cell bars. As impossible as it seemed, Saeana had found the three men once more.
"Help?" the Redguard scoffed. "What makes you think help will get here before more of those bastards? We need to get the Emperor out of here."
Personally, Saeana would have found it annoying if those around her talked about what they were going to do with her without actually consulting her, as they were doing with the Emperor, but the old man just stood quietly, unconcerned with their plans. Before the Imperial had time to respond, two more of the said "bastards" seemed to materialize out of thin air and charged the group. "Not again," Saeana thought, rolling her eyes. Pulling the rusty bow off of her back, she nocked an arrow and, taking careful aim, fired at the closest assailant's neck, the arrow finding its mark at the base of the Altmer's skull. The assassin dropped and twitched on the ground at the feet of the three men as Saeana smiled in satisfaction.
"Where the hell did that come from?" the Redguard asked, inspecting the body and pulling the bloodied arrow from the flesh.
"Have you seen the prisoner?" the Emperor asked, looking in Saeana's direction, though she knew he would never be able to see her from where she crouched.
"Do you think she followed us?" the Redguard asked, searching in the same spot as the Emperor, though his eyes clearly couldn't see what the Emperor did. "How could she?"
"I know she did," the Emperor said with more conviction in his voice than Saeana had ever heard anyone articulate. What was it about her that made him speak so? She had never thought of herself as a provocative person, or even all that interesting, and she had never had anyone in authority speak in her defense. For a moment, Saeana almost felt as their eyes were meeting as she hid in the shadows, some illusion of intimacy perforating the darkness.
"Sire, we have to go now," the Imperial guard exhaled impatiently, ignoring the tentative equilibrium that had taken over the dank passageway. The Emperor merely shook his head in response to the man's insistence.
"Not yet," he murmured. "Let me rest a moment longer." He still looked toward her, and Saeana began to lose the comfort of the solitude she had found in the dark corners; she had the feeling that he was just waiting for her to reveal herself. How he knew she was there was still a mystery, but she knew he was waiting for her.
Surrendering the relative safety of her seclusion, Saeana stood up straight, letting the light deliver the message of her presence.
"What the hell?" the Imperial spat, looking around at the sight of her shadow frolicking on the wall. Stepping off the ledge that overlooked the room where the three men waited, Saeana had hoped to make a sly, slightly dramatic entrance. Instead, as she dropped, she landed on a loose stone and slipped, falling laid out on her back, whacking her head on the back of her newfound shield. It was a serendipitous gift, as she landed right where an assassin charged and, as he made a move to stab her, Saeana was able to roll over, grab his ankle and trip the man. As he stood up, the Emperor's Redguard escort thrust his sword into the assassin's throat. "Damn it! It's that prisoner again!" the Imperial guard said as Saeana pushed herself up on her arm, holding the back of her head with her opposite hand. "Kill her," he shouted to the Redguard. "She might be working with the assassins!" He sounded only too eager to do the job himself, making Saeana cringe.
"They tried to kill me too, you jackass!" she yelped, using her feet to push herself away from the Redguard's sword, now hovering near her neck. Fortunately for her, the guard hesitated, giving the Emperor a moment to speak up.
"No, she is not one of them," he said firmly, holding up his hand, a silent order to sheath their weapons. "She can help us," he continued, walking over to her. "She must help us." The Emperor's ice blue eyes were fixed on her now, and he seemed to only be speaking to the guards as a formality.
"As you wish Sire," the Imperial guard said, his begrudging tone more than pronounced as he put his sword to rest in its scabbard. Saeana stared back at the Emperor, as he reached a jewel-adorned hand out to her and beckoned her to take it. Accepting warily, she put her scraped and dirty hand into his clean and soft palm, surprised at the strength of the man who looked to be easily eighty years old, as he pulled her up.
"Thanks," she said, not entirely sure what the proper etiquette was for when the ruler of the free world helped a lady to her feet. "You know, for not letting them kill me." The Emperor smiled with charmed amusement.
"They cannot understand why I trust you," he said, gesturing toward the guards, almost as though he hadn't heard her thanks. "They've not seen what I've seen." Though she didn't really understand what the man was talking about, Saeana decided to try and feign comprehension of his statement. But the old man furrowed his brow and she realized she had failed in her objective to keep her bewilderment from becoming a translucent facial expression. "How do I explain?" he pondered out loud, still holding her hand in his. "Listen, you know the Nine, how they guide our fates with an invisible hand?" There wasn't really a good way for Saeana to say that she wasn't a follower of the Nine, so she opted for the vaguest possible terminology.
"I'm…not on good terms with the Gods," she said carefully. Truthfully, she didn't believe in the Nine on a religious basis; more on a mythical basis. She assumed that particular dogma had probably earned her a spot on the shit-lists of the Imperial Pantheon. The only deity to whom she gave any credence was Azura, and Saeana was fairly certain that worship or reverence to a Daedra Lord, even one as benevolent as Azura, wasn't something the Nine really approved of in their believers.
"I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens," the Emperor said as he walked with her toward the doorway where the Imperial was waiting. "The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire and every one a sign. I know these stars well and I wonder…which sign marked your birth?" Saeana had to try hard to keep in a giggle; had the Emperor just asked her, "What's your sign?"
"The Atronach," she said quickly to keep herself from expressing her juvenile sense of humor. Her sign was an easy thing to remember; Saeana had been born in Morrowind during the year of a bizarre celestial event which made it impossible to forget. She was born in First Seed, typically the sign of the Lord, but that year, the Atronach had wondered across the firmament, taking the place of the Lord. Lo and behold, in Sun's Dusk, normally the reign of the Atronach, the Lord had shown himself. She hadn't been a particular devotee of the celestial happenings, but in her lay opinion, it was probably related to the Serpent and its irregular wanderings.
"The signs I read mark the end of my path," the Emperor said, interrupting her thoughts. "My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come." The peace the old man had at the notion of his own demise made Saeana shiver to think of her own.
"Aren't you afraid to die?" she asked, with incredulity. "I know I would be afraid, and you seem to be…I don't know… at ease with the thought of dying." The Emperor chuckled, smiling fondly at Saeana's concern.
"No trophies of my triumphs precede me," he confessed cryptically. "But I have lived well and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death…to face my apportioned fate, then fall." Saeana let out a sigh, trying to understand the breadth of the man's words. She didn't expect to be having such a profound conversation with a total stranger but, then again, to the Emperor she wasn't a stranger.
"What about me?" she asked, trying not to let a strange wave of emotion take over her voice. "If you know you're going to die today, do you know when I'm going to die?" The Emperor shook his head resolutely.
"Your stars are not mine," he murmured, patting her hand consolingly. "Today, the Atronach will aid you with your appointed burden." With that, he let go of her fingers and turned to walk away, but his vague words were simply not enough for the newly freed Dunmer.
"Can you see my fate?" she all but begged, taking him by the wrist. "If you can't see my death, can you see my life?" Sighing heavily, the old man gave no real response at first. "What is it you see that makes you trust me?" she insisted. The Emperor sighed again, looking as though he was about to make a confession.
"My dreams grant me no opinion of success," he started, finding his voice after a few moments of silence. "Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death." The Emperor stopped walking, again cupping Saeana's face in his soothing hands and smiling gently. "But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied." Without another word, he kissed her forehead and continued walking. Saeana couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed her on her forehead; it had to have been when she was a child, but she just couldn't remember.
"Where are we going?" she asked hurrying after him like a puppy following her new master.
"I go to my grave." The Emperor's tone was black, startling Saeana more than a little, stopping her in her tracks. His voice had been soft and comforting until that moment, but with those words, Saeana saw the fear and resolution hidden behind his serenity. "A tongue, shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for awhile, then we must part." Saeana couldn't move. This was all a little too much for her to process in one day. The Emperor turned around and motioned for her to follow. "Come with us. Your destiny is bound up with mine and with the fate of Tamriel itself." Saeana merely nodded and made a move to keep walking, but found a hand on her shoulder was holding her back.
"You may as well make yourself useful," the young Redguard said, holding a torch out to her. "Carry that torch and stick close." Following closely, as he had instructed, Saeana hurried beside him.
"What's your name?" she asked innocently enough, following on his heels, the new puppy following her master once again. He looked at her as though she had just made a puppy mess on the floor.
"I don't make it a point of getting chummy with criminals," he said sharply. Saeana furrowed her brow in surprise.
"Who wants to get chummy?" she asked seriously. "I just want to know your name. If you need a decent excuse, let's say I want to file a complaint against you and your buddy." Rolling his eyes, the Redguard let out a sigh of capitulation.
"Baurus," he said simply. "The other Blade is Glenroy." He was only giving their names because he wanted to shut her up, Saeana knew that much, but the guard had no clue that she was just too curious for her own good.
"So, Baurus," she said after stifling a chuckle at the Imperial Blade's name. She had expected something like Augustus, or Tiberius, something hard and noble and intimidating. Instead he was called Glenroy, which sounded as though he should be out picking wildflowers or frolicking in the meadows. "Tell me about these 'Blades' that you work for," she said, hoping to keep the conversation on the lighter side, despite Baurus's frank dismissal.
"We're the Emperor's bodyguards. Our job is to get him out of situations like this!" he barked, making her jump a little bit. "Although I have to admit, things are not going according to plan," he added under his breath.
"Almighty Azura, I could have told you that," Saeana scoffed, taking her turn to roll her eyes. "Tell me about the Emperor; or do you call him Uriel Septim to his face?" Baurus scowled at her.
"My job is to make sure the Emperor gets out of here alive and I intend to do it," he said firmly. "And it would be much easier if I weren't being distracted by an insubordinate prisoner." Saeana was about vent her spleen at him, when she saw the Emperor shaking his head at Baurus's less than civil words. The nonverbal chastising seemed to be all Baurus needed to see to cool his tongue. "Just stick close and let us do our job, and you'll be alright," he said, forcing a small smile. This seemed to meet with the Emperor's approval, and the group continued on their way. Looking down at the sword on her hip, Saeana reluctantly took the scabbard and belt off and handed it all to the dark-skinned soldier. She wasn't sure that she liked him, but of the two Blades present, she certainly disliked Baurus less than Glenroy.
"I took this off your captain," she admitted. "You should probably have it back." Not waiting for a response, she walked away, trying to catch up with the Emperor. Without warning, she was grabbed forcefully by her shoulders and slammed against the stone walls, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her face to face with the Imperial soldier.
"Gods, Glenroy!" she spat out of reflex. "We're not in some seedy bar somewhere, and I'm not a Khajiit transvestite, so hands off." His scowl led Saeana to believe that he didn't appreciate either her knowing his name, or her salty comment.
"The Emperor may trust you," he snarled threateningly, jamming an accusing finger into her face. "But I don't. Stay out of our way. I've still got my eye on you." Knowing she was now under the Emperor's defense, Saeana no longer felt any fear of the man and pushed the guard's hand off her shoulder, slapped his finger out of her face, and thrust him away from her roughly.
"Have I told you to kiss my ass yet?" she asked, knowing she was perhaps pushing her luck a little bit. "If I have, then it still applies. If I haven't, then you can go ahead and pucker up." The man glared at her, as though he could set her ablaze with his eyes, cocking a menacing fist.
"That'll do Glenroy." The voice of the Emperor was accompanied by his hand on the shoulder of the soldier. "She has done us no harm; let us try to reciprocate." One side of his nose drawing up in a sneer Glenroy reluctantly lowered his arm.
"Yes Sire," he grumbled, Saeana raising her brows and giving a small, arrogant smile, slipping away from his reach, though his stare was unavoidable. Though she had the Emperor's protection, she didn't feel a need to abuse it. Anymore.
"Thanks," she said, catching up with the Emperor, who nodded in response. "What's his problem?" she asked, jerking her head back toward the guard. "Does he just not like extremely attractive criminals?" The older man let out a soft laugh.
"Glenroy is very devoted," he said. "He has nothing left except his devotion to Talos and the Septim bloodline." Saeana glanced back at the sour looking man.
"You'd think he'd be nicer to people trying to make his job easier," she muttered. The Emperor shook his head sadly.
"I'm sure there is a story behind Glenroy's actions toward you," he said. "And I suspect it's a tragedy. I know he is loyal to me and, though I doubt you'll agree, he is a good man, so I cannot fault him for his imperfections." Saeana sighed, rolling her eyes. She disliked when people were capable of seeing past the flaws of others, or even excuse their acts of jack-assery. She much preferred to think that people were either wankers or not wankers. If there were reasons behind a person's actions, it meant there was logic and if there was logic, there was thought which meant people had the choice of how to act. She didn't like that, on some level, there was a way to control the choice of whether to hurt or help someone; that she had that control.
"Hold up," Glenroy said, holding a hand up, breaking her train of thought. "I don't like this. Let me take a look." He went ahead of the three other people, so intent on his task that he didn't even stop to pay Saeana a second thought, which she felt was an improvement but still found somehow unsettling. "It's clear," he confirmed after giving the area the once-over. "Come on, we're almost through to the sewers." As Baurus herded them after Glenroy, Saeana noticed that the Emperor had become strangely calm, the change again making her queasy. Putting his hands over the gate's woven metal, Glenroy shook the rusty entry, a cold feeling slithering into Saeana's stomach as it refused to budge. "Damnit!" he belted out. "It's locked from the other side, a trap!" Already looking for a solution, Baurus nodded back toward a darkened alcove Saeana hadn't noticed before.
"What about that side passage back there?" he asked, maintaining his calm, cool demeanor, while the Emperor now seemed almost catatonic and Saeana now felt kwama crawling all over her skin.
"Worth a try," Glenroy admitted. "Let's go!" Now it was he who did the herding, while Baurus led the group into a tomb-like niche, lit by the torch he had passed to Saeana.
"It's a dead end," Baurus said, sounding as though he was running out of hope. "What's your call sir?" he asked, deferring to the "wisdom" of the other Blade, that had clearly gotten them so far. A sudden jerk of his head caused Saeana to jump, and the Emperor to lower his eyes.
"They're behind us!" She had reason to be afraid, but Saeana knew she had taken on these apes more than once in their venture through the bowels of the prison and come out the victor each time. Still, she found her pulse quickening as the Blades began moving more decisively. "Wait here Sire!" With that, Glenroy darted out, disappearing from view. Baurus paused to give orders to the woman who had been, not a few hours earlier, just another inmate.
"Wait with the Emperor, guard him with your life!" With that, Baurus ran off to assist his cocksure comrade. Feeling a firm hand on her shoulder, Saeana turned to see the Emperor staring straight at her, holding an amulet out to her.
"I can go no further," he spoke quickly, as though there were an hourglass before him, showing him how little time he had left. "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" As he folded the amulet in her fingers, his blue eyes were burning like a heart of flame, the wisdom and clarity they had held earlier was now lost. In their place was an urgency, if not a terror, which gave her no small amount of apprehension. "Take the amulet, give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." Without words to agree or disagree, Saeana nodded tightly, wrapping the chain for the amulet around her wrist and holding the bauble in her hand. In an act of sheer desperation, the Emperor took Saeana's face in his hands, holding it perhaps a little too tightly. "Find him…and close shut the jaws of Oblivion!" As the Emperor spoke, Saeana saw a secret door open behind him, a black and magenta armored man jumping out of the passage. Before Saeana could react, the Emperor put himself between Saeana and the man's blade, bracing himself for the inevitable end he had been fortunate enough to see coming.
The black blade plunged deep into the Emperor's neck, extinguishing the hearts of flame instantly and making his head roll to the side.
"No!" Saeana yelled, as though she could stop time and change the course of events as they played out before her, the invisible hourglass having poured out its final grains of sand. As the great man fell to the floor, no blood flowing from the wound, no throes of death shaking his frame, the assassin glared up at her with a menacing grin.
"Stranger, you picked a bad day to take up with the Septims." The man lunging at her, Saeana ducked and drove her elbow into the man's crotch, his tasteless vulgar glee acting as a catalyst for her own actions. "Bitch!" he grunted, dropping his knife and doubling over in pain, his sick amusement gone. Feeling no remorse whatsoever, she pulled out the shortsword she had picked up and swung mightily. As the man's severed head rolled across the floor, leaving a crimson trail behind it, Saeana caught sight of another figure charging at her and thrust her sword in that direction, the blade running clear through the woman's belly and thrusting out her back. She barely noticed the pouring blood as she fell to her knees beside the Emperor's body, taking his limp hand.
She didn't want to rob his body, or take the rings that adorned his fingers; she just wanted to remember his hands. The hands had belonged to a man who saw something valuable in her, who didn't look upon her with disdain. They had belonged to a man who believed she had something to give the world, and had touched her face as he would a child's.
"No!" Baurus's voice came through the narrow antechamber. Saeana turned to see his face twisted into a grimace of terror and grief as he crouched beside her. "Talos save us…" he murmured, closing the Emperor's eyes. "We've failed…I'VE failed…" he said, staring straight ahead of him. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor and now he and all his heirs are dead." Not wanting to think that a member of the Emperor's own bodyguard would cry, Saeana ignored the hard surge of Baurus's Adam's apple and the fact that she saw him biting his lower lip. The two sat in silence, both contemplating the lifeless body before them. "The Amulet?!" Baurus cried suddenly, making Saeana jump. "Where's the Amulet of Kings?! It wasn't on the Emperor's body!" Holding her palm up, Saeana revealed the bright red amulet, the gold chain still wrapped around her wrist.
"The Emperor gave it to me," she said simply, knowing there was no way to prove she hadn't stolen it, and nothing she could say could make him trust her. To her immense surprise, she didn't need to say anything to him; he simply scoffed and raised his eyebrow.
"Strange," he murmured cryptically, making no move to remove the chain or take the amulet. "He saw something in you. Trusted you. They say it's the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim," he said, nodding toward the Emperor. "They see more than lesser men." The Redguard seemed to drift off in his thoughts, growing wistful before Saeana's eyes.
"Why the amulet though? What's so important about it?" she asked, still not wanting to see Baurus cry, despite the fact that he looked at her as though she had the intellect of a table leg.
"The amulet is a sacred symbol of the empire," he explained softly, with surprising patience. "Most people think of the Red Dragon crown, but that's just jewelry. The amulet has power. Only a true heir of the blood can wear it, they say." Saeana nodded, looking at the necklace in her hand while Baurus shook his head in dismay. "He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?" he asked, seeking some logic on what was sure to be the most illogical day of his life.
"He said that I must take it to Jauffre," she said, shrugging and shaking his head. "Whoever that is." Though unfamiliar to her, Baurus seemed to recognize the name, his expression clearly taken aback.
"Jauffre? He said that? Why?" His questions were quick in succession and Baurus looked almost frenzied, the answers unable to come fast enough.
"There is another heir," Saeana said quickly, hoping that single answer would satisfy the Redguard. His eyes widened and raised his eyebrows skeptically.
"Nothing I ever heard about," he admitted. "But Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the grand master of my order. Although you might not think so to meet him."
"Why's that?" she asked, not really interested in hearing the description of a man she had never met and only recently heard of.
"He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory near the city of Chorrol…"