Phoenix lurched for the Black Door, sweat running down his forehead. He'd ran all the way from Dawnstar to the sanctuary, and his body was slightly wet from the sea spraying against him where he splashed along the sand. And, in addition to the run, he was carrying a young girl in his arms; her head lolling back at a practically impossible angle, flopping each time he put a foot down on the damp ground.

The boy was far too slim to carry someone that distance, especially when running, and his whole body was wet with perspiration. He wanted to fall down and die; all he wanted to do was drop Babette and flop down on top of her and sleep... But he couldn't. He had to get her back to the sanctuary! Fear was gnawing at him; what had happened to her? The girl was unresponsive, and had been so for a good day and night, and hadn't made any noise... he didn't even know if she'd died, because he couldn't check her pulse!

"Innocence, my brother." Phoenix gasped, struggling to get the words out of his mouth. He had to force out each syllable, so tired and terrified was he. His head was beginning to spin, from the anxiety, and he knew for a fact that he had a minute at most before he fell to the floor. Perhaps he could've made the run, even carrying a body, without trouble... But he was carrying the girl he was in love with, who was currently dying. Even the strongest of souls would've collapsed. And by no means was Phoenix the strongest of souls, so he was doing remarkably well.

"OPEN, DAMMIT!" the door was jammed shut. Kicking it hard, a rush of fury filled him. The pain, the fear and the tiredness was too much, and with a great scream, he kicked the door so hard that his toe made a dull crack. Putting Babette on the floor with not nearly enough tenderness, such was his fury, Phoenix kicked the door again and again, pulling on the handle with each kick, and being rewarded with only a huge pain from his toes. Rolling his head back and letting a great cry to the heavens, the boy pulled again... and fell backwards, as the door opened at great speed, smashing him around the head.

Dazed, the young vampire fell backwards, and the anger vanished from him as he begun to recognise the pain all over his body. Every single muscle ached, and his toes and head felt like they were going to fall off. With a great moan, he finally flopped backwards and lay amongst the bracken outside the door and felt his head spin as he tried to regain himself.

But then, he felt a hand grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pulling him into the air, completely off his feet. Not ready for the sudden movement, his head rolled backwards, painfully jerking his neck. Head still spinning, Phoenix did not even think to struggle... And only registered fear when a voice, an inhuman voice, whispered,

"What in the name of Sithis have you done to her?!" Then, he was dropped to the ground, without an ounce of caring, and he crashed headlong into the ground as he heard more voices, and saw, in his dizzy state, seemingly endless feet. He began to count them, practically unaware of what he was doing.

"Scarlett, the boy wouldn't have done it, don't-"

"Fuck it, she could be dead! If she's dead I'll tear him to pieces, I swear it!"

"Please, Mistress, just calm down, don't do anything rash..."

"I promise you, she's dead, and I'll do what the hell I want..."

Phoenix could only make out voices, vague outlines, and flashes of colours... a shadow went over him, and a pretty colour dropped over his face... yellow... he reached out a hand to touch it, in his hallucinatory state, and felt a sharp pain in his face. The colour jerked away, and he felt a hand grabbing him by the neck again, although a little more carefully this time, but by no means tenderly.

Propped on his feet, Phoenix swayed unsteadily, only to have hands grab his shoulders and set him upright. For a moment, his head fell back again, as he felt the blood begin to circulate again, and he was brought out of his state of semi-madness. Thoughts and feeling returned to him, and it was then, that he realised that the person who had thrown him to the ground was Scarlett, and the person who was now holding him upright was Valenta, the motherly Khajiit assassin. Blearily, he watched as Scarlett dropped to her knees by the still body of Babette, and started pressing her hands over the girl's face. Phoenix let out a weak cry of indignation at the way the girl was being touched, before remembering what situation they were in, and quieting. He began to shudder, and felt Valenta snake her arms around him to hold him gently.

The Mistress of the Dark Brotherhood turned her head to face him, and he couldn't quite tell what the look on her face was. Cold fury, sympathy, anxiety, and confusion were all there, although he couldn't quite tell which of the emotions was directed at him. All of the assassins surrounding him were silent, sensing the danger emanating from her body.

"What happened to her?" she said, and her voice was cool. She had regained her obvious leadership, but there was still something about the way she looked at him that still reminded him of a predator. Phoenix stuttered something incomprehensible. For a moment, it looked to everyone in attendance that Scarlett might leap up and kill him. But, slowly, they could see something growing in her face. She took a deep breath.

"Alright." she said, and her voice was forcedly calm. "Alright. Let's all take a deep breath. Phoenix, you carried Babette here, correct?"

He nodded the affirmative, and something in her red eyes softened. "She got like this in Solitude?" Phoenix nodded again. "Okay. So what, by Sithis, brought this on? Do you know?"

"I'd just killed the contract, and my face was bloody because I'd had to use an invisibility potion to get away from a guard..." Phoenix stopped for a second to catch his breath. He was now talking unnaturally fast, wanting to get it over with and just... just sleep. "I'd smashed the top off, and the jagged glass cut my face. I also had my contract's blood all over me. Babette saw me and we talked normally, but then..." Phoenix went a little red. "She... umm... well, she got this strange look in her eye, and she licked the blood off my face, including my blood..."

Scarlett's face drained of colour.

Turning back to Babette, the woman began to mutter things under her breath, hands passing several times over the young girl's body. Stopping after a few moments, she swore like a guardsman, and then kept going, determinedly trying to work magic she had no proficiency at. And she grew frantic. The calm, seductive leader was gone, replaced with a frenzied creature, trying to protect it's quarry, determined to do something it couldn't. There was a mad look in her eyes. Eventually, after several turns of her trying, and failing, to do a feat of magic, Amedal, a Dunmer wizard, stepped forwards raising his hands.

"Mistress, do you want me to do it? I know the spell you are attempting, and-"

"NO! Damn it, come near her, and I'll rip you to shreds! All of you get inside, now!" she was frenzied, insane, and even her children, who knew her as their loving, caring mother, backed away at the sight. Quickly, the assassins dispersed, leaving Scarlett and Phoenix alone... The woman was passing her hands over Babette, now, muttering spells old as time itself, and cursing loudly each time it didn't work. Tears, pearly and clear, were rolling down her cheeks as she worked herself to the brink of madness, again and again trying and failing to perform the spell. She knew she was the worst magician possible, but she had to do this... she just had to.

Phoenix watched with blank eyes as Babette lay still under Scarlett's hands, as the woman tried her hardest... and then, she sat back, staring with grief-stricken eyes. Babette lay still, lips slightly parted, flopped at all angles like a rag doll. And then, the woman looked at Phoenix and the tears and agony on her face told him what had happened.

Babette was gone.

A guttural noise came from his throat. It couldn't be happening! She wasn't dead! Stepping forwards, Phoenix fell to his knees and bent his head onto Babette's cold, cold corpse, burying it in her chest, and began to sob. And, through the haze of misery, he could hear Scarlett sobbing too.

Scarlett knew that with Babette's death, things had changed. Especially for her... that was why she'd been so frenzied and insane when the others were trying to touch Babette. Babette was her sire vampire, and with the transferral of her blood to Scarlett's body... life had been transferred too, and that bound the two of them together. If Babette died by drinking another vampire's blood... well, Scarlett had been warned. A curse was laid on that whole bloodline, meaning each and every vampire that first vampire had sired, would go insane... and have to kill themselves by drinking another vampire's blood. Scarlett would have to kill herself in the same way willingly, or would be forced. And she knew that now... now she too would have to die. If only she'd trusted someone else to help Babette! Now her best friend was dead... but at least they'd see each other in the Void. For now, Scarlett would have to die too, and as quickly as possible.

Finally, Scarlett knew how Silvanus must have felt. She was going to die, and Babette was dead. Fear began to bubble up in her stomach, spreading all the way to the tips of her hair, as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. THIS was the price she knew she'd have to pay, someday, when she agreed to let Babette bite her... But when it came down to it, she was no way at all ready. Her children... by Sithis.

She would not let herself cry. She would have to die, now, or else insanity overtake her and make her kill herself by force. And Babette... Babette was dead! She wasn't upset for herself, as she would see Babette soon, in the Void, but Phoenix... And then, Scarlett realised something else. She was not the only one Babette had sired...

Phoenix sobbed ever harder into Babette's cold, cold form. Why did she have to be dead?! By Sithis, by Talos, by every God and fucking entity he knew... She was gone, and he would never see her again! He raised his head and screamed to the heavens, clutching, holding at Babette, never wanting to let her go, such was his agony... And then, a voice met his ears. Then, looking up with tear-filled eyes... he knew something was wrong, from the look in the Speaker's face.

"Babette sired you...?" he could tell Scarlett was trying her hardest from breaking into tears again, because her face was pale as a ghosts and there were tear tracks running down her face. He nodded, slowly, not trusting his voice to talk. Then, he buried his face in Babette's stomach and sobbed into her once more, not wanting to listen to Scarlett. They could talk once he was done, for God's sake! And why did she say it in that ominous way, "Babette sired you", what did it matter?!

"Then... oh by Sithis, I wouldn't cry." her voice was now thickened with tears and, looking up at his usually cold, seductive mistress, he saw she was crying once more. "You'll be seeing her soon enough." wait... what? Then, Phoenix got it. Sitting upright, he stared, open mouthed, at Scarlett, whose red eyes said it all.

"I'm... I'm going to die?!" he begun to panic. Standing up, he gaped at her, clenching his fists. She stood up to face him, and the two stared at each other, over Babette's still body. They seemed to be conversing through their eyes, red on red... It was only then that Scarlett noticed the fierce resemblance Phoenix held to herself. For a moment, she forgot about her imminent death, and frowned. He really was the spitting image of her mother and her: the heavily lidded eyes, the thick eyelashes, the pale skin and the wavy corn blond hair... And someone else she knew there, too. Narrow face, delicate features... Silvanus. She grew excited, and through her tears, her mouth gaped in shock. He was the right age to be Lukos, too, and although in personality he did not mirror his parents at all, he... No. Lukos was dead. And anyway, even if this timid little boy WAS Lukos, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to die, just the same as her.

"When a vampire dies by drinking another vampire's blood, there is a curse laid on that whole bloodline." Scarlett said, determinedly trying to forget about the boy's SLIGHT (she told herself) resemblance to her mother and Silvanus; it didn't matter anyway. "The bloodline, which is the vampires a previous vampire sired, and the ones those vampires sired, would have to kill themselves by drinking the blood of another vampire and dying. I don't know how many Babette sired, but they will all go insane and die. You and I... we can die sane... if we wish."

It was then, that Phoenix did the bravest thing in his life. He nodded. "We'll die sane. I'll drink your blood, you'll drink mine... do we have time to say goodbye?"

"No." Scarlett replied, and instantly misery appeared on her face. A tear dropped out of one eye, and splashed onto the already damp sand beneath them. "They... other people in the Brotherhood are aware of the... the curse. They'll tell my children I love them." Phoenix felt a pang in his heart. He didn't know anyone else in the Brotherhood well enough to "love them" (aside from Babette), but Scarlett was leaving her infant children behind, as well as her post as the most senior member of the Brotherhood in Tamriel. There was no Listener.

The woman took a blade from her belt, and held it up to the setting sun. Light flashed off it, reflecting onto Phoenix's slightly enraptured face. She held it up to one wrist, and slashed with a low hiss of pain. Blood immediately began to spill out of the wound, and Phoenix immediately, seeing it, felt an urge to go and lick it off her arm. It was beautiful, the way it splattered onto the ground, and Phoenix (despite knowing that Scarlett was not his Goddess out of dreams) felt a desire to worship her... It was then he realised that this situation mirrored his dreams. He was about to drink the blood of his Goddess... and she his own. Maybe that dream had been foreshadowing to the future?

She then tossed the dagger towards him. Just catching it, he raised it to his wrist... fear tensed his body as he waited for the pain to overcome him, and then, as he slashed quickly, he screamed out in agony. However, the woman was quick to come to him, and held him close, whispering words of comfort into his ear. Closing his eyes, Phoenix forgot that this was the Mistress and Speaker he'd been so attracted to, and pretended she was his mother, in these last moments before death... Then, he heard the words that made him even more afraid.

"Together?"

Scarlett drew away from him and instantly, he missed her form pressing against his own. However, she quickly returned to a slightly more intimate embrace, and despite his love for Babette, he couldn't help slipping his non-bloodied arm around her waist. Inside herself, Scarlett laughed. He was a lot more like Astrid than she'd originally thought. Oddly, she felt slightly unafraid of death. She'd be able to see her mother again, she thought happily, as she took his pale, childish arm in her hand, and raised the wound to her lips as he did the same...

"Scarlett?" a broken, weak voice hit the air. The two vampires froze, stuck for a moment with their blood inches away from each other's lips, and then, they recognised the voice. "Phoenix?"

With cries of joy, the two of them sprang away from each other and turned to see Babette lying there, eyes barely open, but working, and her mouth open as she tried to speak... They flung themselves on her, and tears and blood mixed as the three held each other tightly, sobbing with relief, agony, and total, uninhibited joy. Babette was alive. Scarlett's magic had worked, somehow; not particularly well, or skilfully, but that didn't matter. Babette was ALIVE.

Scarlett grabbed Phoenix's hand and led him to the sea, where the two of them began to wash their wounds, and the red liquid washed away into the seemingly endless water. Quickly, they returned to Babette, and the three of them, who had been inches from the Void only minutes before...

Were alive.

XXXXXXX

A shadowy figure approached the Night Mother's coffin. It was the middle of the night, and most of the other assassins were sleeping... but not this one. The whites of his eyes gleamed in the pitch black, as he hoisted himself up onto the platform where the coffin stood.

He fumbled with the lock for a moment, before opening the doors quietly, careful not to make them creak, not wanting to be discovered. A rustling in the corner spooked him; he whipped around... but nothing was there. Heart beating quickly, the man sat down in front of the now open coffin, and put his head in his hands, trying as hard as he could to hear the words that nobody had heard since Silvanus Coppercroft had died...

Hours passed, with the figure just sitting there, watching the coffin, trying as hard as he could for words to meet his ears. And then, finally, he let out a cry of happiness as he heard it. After years of trying, he heard it.

And then, pleased, he snuck away. He would tell them in the morning. And then, finally, he'd get what he'd been waiting for all these years.

He was the Listener. And nothing could stop him now.