A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and follows! If anything is misspelled please feel free to tell me, I want to keep my story clean and understandable. On a last quick note Ysara isn't from any of the games, she is my own creation. If there's a similar name then sorry, I didn't know. Also sorry for the wait, after starting a story I easily loose muse ;;

Pain flooded her, it erupted in flames along her skin and burned her very soul. It hurt so much, but she couldn't help but feel addicted to that feeling, the feeling of pain finally warming her and making her feel something. Her vision had been clouded in dark swirling gray smoke until now. It faded to a bluish black, the little white puffs of smoke that were left turned into stars.

A large being was sensed next to her ear and she shuddered as its deep, scaly, demotic voice hissed coldly "The process... Has started."

The cold breath of the voice washed over her, plunging her from the warm embrace into ice water. She opened her mouth half in shock, half to scream in protect, but her airways where filled immediately with a black sludge. Panicked, she struggled but found herself pinned down by her wrists by forces unknown.

Slowly everything elapsed into black and the last she could hear was a deep chuckle and her own softly growing breath.

Ysara awoke with a gasp, her arms flying up around her neck in instinct. Her eyes were bulging as she took in the setting of the cave. After a few moments to recognize where she was the breton lowered her arms and sighed.

Did she even want to know what that dream was? Of course she did, but a strong tug of experience told her it was best left alone.

Grinding her teeth she pulled herself from the bedroll and kneeled there. A quick glance around told her that Scar-Tail had gone out out, probably to hunt since their supply's were low. She was slightly disappointed she could feel the rush of hunting down prey, yet this would give her time to pack all the equipment that was scattered around the cave. It had to be ready for when they left for Leyawiin later that evening.

She smiled in remembrance. In the four years they had been partners they traveled back to Bogwater camp at least once every passing year. It was a good reminder for both of them as they had gained such an odd bond, one that couldn't be easily broken. He had taught her most of what she knew now about bows, poisons, and their uses. Oh what a thought it seemed now that she thought he killed everyone he took down with a bow, when the reality was they were merely paralyzed or weakened.

With a chuckle at the memory she stood, changing from her sleep-ware to some simple clothes before clasping on her iron armor. With practiced motions she swung her bow and arrows up and around her shoulder, over her head where it lay comfortably against her shoulder. She left her elven dagger near her bedroll and strolled down the small hill of the cave to the fire pit.

There were miscellaneous herbs and spices laying around the stones. She picked out what was left of the good plants and fruit, leaving the half eaten or bruised stuff to rot. She packed them and the last of the meat (three footlong strips) in a small sack. Tossing the food up near her bedroll she turned and began packing their utensils.

By the time everything had been tied up and bundled into two packs bright light was seeping through the cracks in the cave top.

The door to the cave creaked and Ysara's hand instantly flew to her dagger which was now wrapped at her side. It was probably just her argonian parter, but a past experience always told her to be ready incase of intrusion.

All her muscles relaxed as she saw Scar-Tail round the corner into the small cavern. The hanging of his head and the limp hold on his bow told her all she needed to know.

"Its a pity but we can do with what we have." she said, trying to comfort him if even a bit.

His head snapped up and she saw raw fury in his eyes. "I missed that damn boar by centimeters I tell you! Bah, I am no true hunter." he hissed.

Ysara frowned, her annoyance over the topic getting the better of her judgement. "If you're going to bum about it I'll start going out and you can stay back and pack." she said slightly smug. Soon as she had finished her sentence she tossed him one of the packs.

Scar-Tail looked at her with slight shock, but a grin played at the corner of his scaled lips. "If you come back with something it's a deal." he said, slipping on the pack.

"Psh, I could show you up now if we didn't want to get to Bogwater by dark." she sneered jokingly. There had already been a good mood set for the day, but it brightened at the thought of challenges.

"Let's get going then!" he chuckled.

They departed from the small cave and made their way down south by the Morrowind border. They would have headed directly south had it not been for their knowing of the Dark Brotherhood in Cheydinhal.

After her dream earlier that morning, the very mention of the Dark Brotherhood sent a large eerie shock down her spine. It caused her to wonder what 'process' had started... It caused her to think about what had happened four years ago.

Ysara was so wrapped up in her mind she nearly ran into Scar-Tail as he stopped abruptly. With a huff she walked around to his side to see what had caught his attention, though nothing caught her sight on the barren plain they were traveling through.

She turned, giving the argonian a quizzical look that was answered by a quick head shake. "Just my imagination... Let's continue."

"Are you sure? We could rest a bit." she said, a bit of soft worry curbing her voice.

"No!" the forcefulness of his voice made it crack slightly and he winced. "Ah, please no. We need to get to camp."

Ysara was still clouded with doubt, though she didn't object. If he wants to waste away his health he's free to. She bit her lip at the odd thought. It was wrong of her to think that way, and yet her real feeling combated with her false ones of the mind. Why should she even care?

The rest of the walk was an oddly tense one. Scar-Tail was very tense, looking as if everything were a threat, it confused Ysara greatly. They opted only a few words every hour, and the dampness of the mood seemed to get thicker with every shorter strand of words.

As the sun was settling the air and ground became thicker with moister, a sign that their new home was close.

Ysara sighed in relief at the familiar landscape. They both needed rest, that was all. Tomorrow was a new day and they could start enjoying the 'new' setting. As she started walking further there was an emptiness from next to her side.

She turned to find Scar-Tail looking around in curiosity, though when he turned to her it was really a look of wariness.

It wasn't something she could take anymore. She had to know what was up, and to prove her intentions she took a few angry steps toward him. "Listen Scar-"

"Hush Ysara." he hissed, looking around swiftly once more. "I need you to hide by the camp."

"But-"

He silenced her with a deadly stare, and despite being 21 she felt like a child. Out of her pure shock she started backing away towards the camp.

"Take your pack off," he spoke softer "use it to make a scene that looks like you escaped to the water."

Escape...?

She nodded, trusting him indefinitely. Her footsteps were quick as she retreated over the short rise to the camp. Swiftly she did as he asked. Throwing her pack down by the water, she dug out foot holes and repositioned everything just right to make look believable.

Silently she backed up and hid under the shadow of the large boulder that was there. The space was just large enough for her small petite body, it caused her but a slight discomfort as she pressed against the mildly damp stone.

Her blue gaze peered out around the rounded edge of the stone. At first there was nothing but the sight of the slimy green yellow grass, but that was save for what she heard. The loud clash of metal rung in her ears and her eyes widened as the sound turned to loud zaps as well.

Like hell I'm going to hide! The breton thought angrily, her hand on the bound handle of her bow. From this distance she could probably pick off the attacker. All her instincts to fight clicker into order, but something tugged her back. An urge, something that asked her if it was worth it. What if there were others there, hiding, waiting for her to give way?

The clanking got louder as a large mass flew over the crest of the hill and tumbled downward. As it stopped moving, Ysara could tell it was another red skinned argonian wielding an Iron katana. She snickered slightly. As it a flimsy weapon like that could get through Scar-Tail's armor. This battle was in the bag

Her hand came way from her bow and she watched as Scar-tail came over the rise. He was panting, his right arm limp, yet a look of triumph was plastered across his features. The other argonian rolled back into a crouch now, and Ysara could only guess his eyes were blazing in fury. It's useless. She thought.

The stranger lunged forward and up, but Scar-tail easily blocked the attack. The swords slid apart from each other and Scar-tail swiftly raised the sword to come down with a swift strike.

There was a startled cry, and Ysara felt everything stop. The strange argonian had taken the blow, but in turn he had yanked Scar-tail closer and released a powerful shock spell. He had reached between the larger open folds of the armor, his arm disappeared nearly halfway before reemerging soaked in blood, and clutching Scar-tail's heart.

The old argonian assassin's eyes rolled slightly and his expression went blank as he slumped to the ground. His body rolled down the slope a few times, his sword casted to the side and his limbs tumbling in random ways.

Ysara couldn't comprehend what was happening. He was dead, her best friend was dead, he was like all of them who had died in the raid all those years ago. But he couldn't be dead, they were supposed to be at Bogwater now, enjoying themselves and the fact they found each other. Right? Why would he break a promise such as that?

Then it hit, of course he would never break that promise, not to her at least. It was that bastard argonians fault, the one who held the life pump of her dear friend within his fist.

She turned, glaring to the stranger who seemed quite satisfied with himself. He must've not seen her with Scar-tail because after a quick glance around he wrapped the heart in a cloth sack before turning and slipping out of the swamp. The moment he was gone Ysara fled her hiding spot and half-ran half-crawled over over to Scar-Tail's limp body.

Her hands came to rest over the blood that was seeping through the armor before she untied the straps and buckles to stare at the wound. It smelled horribly burned, The little flesh there had been utterly ripped and torn, black scorch marks flared against the red scales from the spell. A dark pit lay within everything, a cracked rib-bone jutted out slightly and blood bubbled from the wound out and back into the hole.

Ysara gasped slightly, as if she were going to start weeping, but nothing came. With each shuddering gasp she took her rage grew. When she finally stood again, covered in the argonians blood, his body nearly flew to its new position a few feet away. She stared at it, wanting to feel something of remorse, but there way only the overpowering sense to get revenge.

With an angered growl she whipped around. Her blonde hair came loose from it's hold and flushed around her face, irritating her and making her more infuriated. She swiftly made her way down to the shore to pick up her pack. When it was firmly strapped down she started off in the direction the stranger had gone.

It didn't matter how long it was going to take. She was going to get what she had wanted for so long. A reason to kill.

Her position was stiff as she leaned on her elbows, her forehead resting against her fists. She had calmed down by the time she had found that bastard, but it didn't quell what she wanted.

What if he has a family?

The sudden thought startled her. But her disposition came back quickly.

Family be damned

Oh really? You wouldn't care about your family?

My original family abandoned me, my second family and my best friend have been slaughtered, there is nothing left for me to care about when it comes to being part of a drama.

I see.

There was a movement out of the corner of her eye and Ysara watched on edge as the argonian moved drunkenly. He clomped over and up to the stairs. Soon as he rounded the corner she stood slowly and followed making sure to keep close as possible without suspicion. After she followed to the correct door she waited without disruption for a few minutes before attempting to open the door. Surprise flooded her as the door opened with ease.

Slowly she passed into the room, making sure to close the door behind her. It clicked silently and she proceeded forward. All her senses were at once on edge as she crept forward. The eerie silence pooled over her as she couldn't pinpoint where the damned lizard had went. That was, until a shuffling at her right caused her to tense and turn.

A blind, of course he'd be hiding behind such a thing. But then again why would he have reason to hide when he knew nothing of her presence? The thoughts confused her as she backed up few quick paces into a shadow. The shuffling continued, and the lizard's shadow was cast across the room as he moved form behind the blind. The sight that stood there caused her to gag.

He stood stark naked before her, his pose slightly wobbled from the alcohol he had consumed. One arm leaned against the blind as he looked around in confusion. Then a smile came over his features. "Ah, are we playing hide and seek you little fox?" he slurred glancing around the room.

Ysara's lip curled as she realized what exactly was going on. He was waiting for a prostitute to come up, as why the door was unlocked and he was naked. She shook her head a bit as he looked into one of the large chests. Pathetic bastard, as if he'd have a family.

Luckily in his state he didn't think to go straight across the room to her point. Instead he turned to the bed to glance under, and she saw her chance. Quickly she slipped her two readily poisoned blades into each hand and made her way forward with swift steps. As he stood she threw her right hand out around his neck, making an agile cut across the main bloodline. The blade in her left hand came into contact with his kidney.

There was a gasp and sputtering noise, but the poison worked its magic. Normally any other poison would have led to the Argonians natural immunity set in, but this poison was of a different breed. It stopped the natural healing process of wounds and caused them to bleed out heavily, as the lizard was doing now. She let him spill forward, bleeding out onto the bed.

Her breathing had gotten heavy. The kill had left such a rush within her, it was addicting. The scent of the copper blood that stained her blades, the clouded sightless gaze of the fool argonian, the adrenaline. It was just too perfect a feeling. Something held it slightly at bay though, it felt as if her actions had been noted, seen by something unseen.

"What the hell dare you doing?!"

The scream cut her good mood short. She hadn't even though the women that was to be set up would come in at that moment. With a smile smile she leapt atop the bed and through the window, shattering it in the process while the women behind her screamed for the guards.

All feelings of accomplishment faded and were replaced by fear as she slid off the side roofing and down to the street below. The natural thing to do was run, and so she did. Her boots often slipped on the cobble in her rush, and she could hear the pounding of iron boots fast approaching from behind. She rounded the corner of the towns chapel, headed for the gate to Blackwood, only to come to a halt as a firm pain forced its way into her shoulder.

A rack of pain shot through her and she gasped, clutching at the arrow with her other arm. Damn. The guards surrounded her in an instant. A blonde Imperial stepped forward from the group, her glare looking as if it could kill a horse, though Ysara's held the same expression as she glared back.

"Think you could get away criminal scum?" the Imperial growled. "You're coming with us."

"Over my dead body." The young breton spat back.

The guard narrowed her eyes. "That can be arranged."

Ysara reluctantly stood straight and allowed herself to be roughly chained. As she was pushed along she silently thanked whatever gods there were that she had hid all the rest of her supplies outside the city.

Once or twice her was stabbed or prodded to walk faster towards the castle. But she didn't much care at the moment. All that haunted her was the thought of how long she would be in jail, if they would even let her skip to jail. Execution was always a pained subject for her. Murder was one thing, but being willingly killed infront of people was simply inhumane in her eyes.

They entered the first sector of the dungeons, where she expected to had the arrow removed from her shoulder. Yet as soon as her binds were undone a force smacked into the back of her skull, causing everything to go black.

A/N: That was a confusing chapter, I know, I sowwey. As I said, I didn't have any muse for this but it had to get done, so it was pretty forced. I hope you enjoyed none the less and I promise to have things more clearly stated in the next chapter.