Disclaimer

I only own the plot and my original characters.

A/N

A lot happens in this chapter. It is the longest I have written yet. Also, I have added an Easter egg of sorts that those of you who are familiar with the characters of the Dawnguard DLC should recognize.

And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

So without further ado, enjoy!

Previously:

It is Estoril's 18th birthday, and she is finally able to join the Thalmor. She is very anxious about it, and her 'mother' appears before her and taunts her. Estoril is afraid she is not 'perfect enough' and despite all of her efforts going through all the necessary paperwork she will not be admitted into the Thalmor. She and her father go together to the Thalmor's governmental buildings and are ushered into an office. In that office is Ondolemar, who is now a Liaison Officer to Skyrim. Ondolemar irritates Estoril's father and asks him to leave. When the two old friends are finally alone they have a moment to chat about their aspirations. Estoril invites Ondolemar to her birthday party that night and he agrees to attend before giving her the last signature she needed to become an official member of the Thalmor. That night at her party, there is an unwelcome guest - Lady Arannelya. She is Estoril's father's political opponent. She seats herself at Estoril's table and begins to taunt Estoril, however, when she sees how nervous Estoril is she takes pity on her believing that Estoril is her father's puppet. After that, Estoril tries to have a good time with Hesselle and Ondolemar. Yet. after the party her father hits her and reprimands her for acting so weakly in front of Lady Arannelya. Estoril goes to bed - deeply ashamed.

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Chapter 4-In which everything is Beautiful

Alinor-Alinor(Summerset Isles)

Tirdas, 17th day of First Seed ,4E 195

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Some say Alinor is the most beautiful city on the Isles.

They would be wrong.

It is the most beautiful city in all of Tamriel.

For one who has lived there for nearly five years, I believe that I am more than qualified to pass such a judgement.

Alinor, the city of glass that shimmers like insect wings. Buildings with towers so tall one might imagine they reach Aetherius. The weather here is almost always pleasant. Today I walk along the docks on my way to the market. The water is inviting, small waves breaking gently along the shoreline. Perhaps the only thorn in my side is my unwanted and unshakable companion.

I heard that. Mother grumbles as she falls into step gracefully beside me.

She always looks just as I remembered her. Snowy hair, moss green eyes, and dressed in the flowing burgundy robes that she would wear around the house. I know she is a hallucination -nothing more than a product of my mind- but I cannot will her away. Believe me, I have been trying for over fifteen years now. I have tried everything short of seeking assistance from somebody. I do not think I would be able to bear the embarrassment of asking for another's assistance with something of this nature. If anything her presence has strengthened, whereas in the beginning I could only hear her voice now I can actually see her on occasion.

I have learnt to tolerate her. Sometimes-like this very moment for example- I am able to ignore her.

I just want to enjoy my first day off this month. My job as a Thalmor Wizard is at best stressful, and at worst a nightmare. But I would never have it any other way. I love it.

Ah, I have reached my destination at last. I smile at the sight before me, the hustle and bustle of the market is always so exciting. What foreign and regional wares will the merchants have today? I wonder. I observe on my right several Khajit trying to tempt me with their wares. I frown as I consider the group of overgrown cats. Are they carrying Skooma, per chance? I dismiss the thought just as quickly as it manifests. Of course they are not. All wares merchants bring into Alinor are meticulously inspected before they are allowed to be sold. Besides, these Khajit would have to be exceptionally stupid to sell something as illegal as Skooma out in the open. That matter settled, I carry on.

Despite my desire to linger and browse through various stalls, I come to the market today with a purpose. I am in need of a blacksmith. Every now and then my glass dagger must be re-sharpened. Perhaps I should be able to do this myself. Yet, I must sheepishly admit to neglecting skills pertaining to weaponry. I concede that I would much rather entrust this task to one who is specialized in smithing, rather than tackling the task myself and potentially ruining my favorite is no other blacksmith that I would go to with that job than Mollldil -the best blacksmith in the best city. At least in my humble opinion.

"Hello Senior Officer! What business brings you here today this fine Tirdas morning?" Mollldil greets cheerfully as I approach his forge.

Neglect and laziness. My daughter foolishly believes that learning smithing is beneath her. So she is forced to rely on you-

"Good day to you, Mollldil, and as far as what business I have here- nothing out of the ordinary. I simply wish to have my glass dagger re-sharpened." I cut mother off with an amiable tone reserved for the blacksmith before me. Mother-who stands at my right side-gowers at me. She then lets out a frustrated huff, and instead of making another snide comment, she turns to inspect the standard issue Thalmor soldier swords that Mollldil had been working on upon my arrival.

Mollldil wipes the sweat and grime from his silvery brow and approaches me. "Let's take a look then, shall we?"

I hand him my dagger and he eyes it appreciatively. "It is a quality blade, but allow me to suggest that you upgrade it."

"What would that upgrade require and how much more would it cost?" I ask, although money is no object.

"It would require one ingot of refined malachite, and would cost 100 gold extra," Mollldil responds.

I agree to the upgrade and he gets to work right away. I am not disappointed with the results-not that I ever expected I would be. To my delight and relief, mother has disappeared and I begin my leisurely walk home in peace. I take a different route today and after making my way inland and inside the city's inner fortifications I walk along the stone ramparts which are so liberally placed in it's topography. While I walk I cannot help but glance at the dagger in my hand and admire it's luminescent green- blue tone. The light that reflects on the bade dances pleasantly across it's surface.

"Pardon me, would you be Lady Estoril, Wizard and Senior Officer in the Thalmor?" A high pitched voice inquires, breaking me out of my reverie.

I sheath my glass dagger back into its holster on my hip, and observe that the mer whom this voice belongs to is a courier- a very young one at that. He cannot be much older than thirteen and is dressed very commonly. I assume an expression of (what I hope is) superiority, and look down my nose at the courier. He gulps nervously and I allow myself to take pleasure in his squirming before I respond.

"Yes, I am Lady Estoril. I assume you have something for me? Or are you simply wasting my time?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean-" the courier stutters, and then gives up trying to respond. Instead he rummages around in his rucksack and produces a letter. I snatch it out of his hand and wave him away. The scrawny courier clumsily shuffles away, tripping over his own feet in his hurry. I chuckle to myself as I move to sit down on a low stone wall by the side of the road. Usually I would wait until I had arrived home to open a letter, but I have been anticipating this particular one for a while.I open it and smile to myself as I recognize the familiar, neat script of my former tutor.

Estoril,

It is always a pleasure to hear from my most esteemed pupil. While the company of my many colleagues is always stimulating, their constant need to argue is tiresome. They all have egos the size of the once great Crystal Tower. But like said tower -no matter how seemingly formidable -they can crumble to nothing quite suddenly. But enough about those sour, ancient intellectuals.

In regards to your question, no, I cannot be entirely certain. Just last night I had dinner with your father and Ondolemar's mother, Altrada. Who to his displeasure sill checks up on him twice a year by decree of the council. I am sure you can imagine how tense the atmosphere was. But they did indeed discuss the recent string of murders of nobles in Alinor, and it did not seem they have reached any sort of consensus as to whether or not Cloudrest's officials ought to get involved. They did, however, talk of sending a group of Junior Officers over to your department, but I discouraged them. You can thank me later, I know inexperienced Officers would only hinder your efforts.

Overall I find the attitude that the officials here in Cloudrest portray to be disconcerting if not uniformly nearsighted. Just because these 'incidents' are occurring so far away from home does not mean they ought to be ignored! It is so easy to feel safe up here atop Mt. Eton Nir, but in the end it is only the illusion of safety. The Beautiful is said to have spies everywhere! Why not here as well?

One thing that Altrada and I agreed on was that your father must conduct a meeting involving all of the nobles of Cloudrest. Only then can anything be decided. It took a great deal of convincing to get your father onboard with the idea, but I am thankful to the Eight that he did. In a fortnight your father will preside over this meeting and finally, finally things will begin to move in the right direction-I hope.

Despite these dark times we live in, I pray you find satisfaction in your career. You are doing the Aldmeri Dominion a great service. On a more personal note, I hope you find time for yourself. Enjoy life and simply allow yourself time to do as you wish without prior planning. I know this notion must seem foreign to you, you have always been so serious -so pedantic. I would ask that you indulge an old mer's request.

As a final thought, while it is perhaps an odd- and even uncomfortable - subject for a wizened tutor such as myself to bring up someone has to. I have never had the pleasure of seeing or hearing of you being romantically involved with anybody. You are of the age when first loves are the sweetest. It would be a shame for you to miss out on such an experience. But of course, it is your choice. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. I have always considered you a part of my family.

Sincerely,

your old friend and tutor,

Sinyir

I am not sure how I feel about Master Sinyir's letter. I fold it up and stuff it into my robe's right pocket. I do not move from my spot on the low stone wall for quite some time while I decide on the appropriate emotional response.

And then I find it- frustration.

I had expected he would have been able to produce better results. That he would have been able to rally support for me -his favorite student-in my endeavors.

In the letter I had written to him nearly a month ago, I had explained in explicit detail how badly my department was hurting. Because my department specializes in dealing with terrorist groups like The Beautiful, we have been working tirelessly against them since the string of murders began nearly a year ago. What has ensued since has been something akin to a shadow war, a seemingly endless struggle against an indeterminable enemy. While we have been able to capture and interrogate a few of what we thought were key members in The Beautiful's hierarchy, it has only become more apparent that they have no true leader. Instead it seems in this case -while I loathe to admit it- the Thalmor's penchant for structure has been it's downfall. The Beautiful can rely on a certain extent of predictability while I and my colleagues cannot.

Ever since my Commander, Lord Quarlas-a noble himself- was murdered in his home a week ago, morale among my fellow Officers has never been lower. As one of the five Senior Officers in my department I know that what we need now more than anything is help. Help in any way, shape, or form. Even if this help only comes in the form of Junior Officers. And Master Sinyir believes I will thank him later for discouraging Father and Altrada from sending me them? He speaks of ignorance among the nobles of Cloudrest while he is just as bad as them. Does he honestly believe that more talking and meetings will begin to solve anything? It is time to take action! Lives are at stake! The Beautiful is beginning what looks like will be a full-scale attack on Aldmeri Tradition starting by eliminating it's living symbols- nobles. It is everything we feared might happen.

I groan loudly and hold myself from screaming in sheer exasperation. I am out in public and do not want to make a scene. So instead I spring to my feet and walk full tilt back home.

I reside in the comfortable housing that the Thalmor council provides for its Commanders and Senior Officers here in the capital. I, like everybody else who requires housing, received a single very spacious room accommodating a bed up on a loft accessible by a small, winding staircase and a large fireplace with a cooking pot and spit. It is always bare of any furniture because it's occupants are almost always wealthy enough to provide their own, and would prefer to do so regardless. Housing is located in towers near our offices for our convenience. I climb eight flights of stairs to reach my room. On my way up I pass by a few soldiers on patrol who salute me on sight, I hastily return the gesture but barely take notice of them- I have other much more important things on my mind.

Ah! The great Senior Officer of the Thalmor, Estoril, finally makes her triumphant return!

I stand in my room's entryway and scowl at mother who is sits elegantly on the dark leather chaise by my picture window.

I cannot help but wonder, my child, why is it that you went to Master Sinyir for help and not directly to your father? Master Sinyir is but a tutor, and well, I need not remind you of your father's status.

"You know damn well why," I grumble as I cross the threshold in a few even strides, slam the door behind me and stand beside mother in front of the window. I do not look at her and instead stare blankly at the beautiful city below me glittering in the sunlight.

Enlighten me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and and sigh. "Alright, fine. You know how father is. He does not like to be disturbed, and by me especially. But I know he respects Master Sinyir and would at least listen to any suggestions he proposed." I ball my right hand into a fist and punch the glass window in front of me in rage-which thankfully does not shatter. " You know how that worked out," I chuckle darkly.

Temper, my dear, watch your temper.

Now I turn to look at her. "That is all you have to say?" I question, my voice cracking and sounding mildly hysterical.

It is unbecoming of a young lady to punch windows, mother states and I flinch slightly under the intensity of her gaze.

And then I realize...it is all so terribly funny!

"I can do as I damn well please. I am in my home...alone," I say and my voice waivers- threatening to break into hysterical laughter.

You are never alone.

Oh, it is all so funny! That punchline was perfectly timed too!

I dance around the room waving my arms and laughing maniacally.

"I can do as I damn well please! Ha ha! I am not your-hahahaha- young lady anymore! I can do as I damn well please! I am an adult! Ha hahaha."I sing happily. Surely mother hears only truth in my words!

I turn back to look at her, my expression triumphant.

There is nobody there.

When I wake up the next morning mother is still gone. This is good. I do not miss her- even if her sudden disappearance is unusual.

I stare at the stone ceiling above me for a little while before hoisting myself up out of bed. I enjoy the feeling of the dark brown fur rug under my feet while I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes. Then, yawning loudly, I carefully descend down the winding staircase and stagger over to the dark, mahogany dresser under the loft area.

I need to get to work. I have things to do.

After I have dressed myself in my Thalmor robes I fill my cooking pot with water and canis roots. With a snap of my fingers I light the fireplace and proceed to sit on chair next to the now roaring fire.

Then a black heap of expensive fabric on the floor next to the dresser catches my attention. Ah, perhaps I ought to put away my fine black robes nicely so they do not crinkle. As I do so the letter from Master Sinyir falls out of one of it's pockets.

I flop back down on the chair I had occupied earlier and re-examine the letter's contents. I am reminded of my frustration towards my old tutor as well as his partiality towards all things sentimental.

So, he finds it strange I have had no significant romantic entanglement in my life thus far, does he? Well I have no time nor the inclination for that. While I have been approached a few times times with offers of courtships from a variety of Altmer my age, I have never been interested.

Oh alright, perhaps that statement was not entirely accurate. I suppose I should not forget about Celeyarel- was it.. two... or three years ago?

He was (and probably still is) a Justiciar. He had been on leave here in Alinor after being stationed for a two year period in Morrowind. There had been no particular reason why I chose to have anything to do with him. He simply met the requirement of coming from a noble background, and he had not been bad to look at.

I had been bored and curious. What was so wonderful about being in a relationship with somebody? Heselle had always made it seem like the greatest and most amusing experience an intelligent being was capable of having.

I learned that no, it most certainly was not. Those six months that Celeyarel courted me were tedious. He actually expected me to spend time with him every week?! Sometimes more than once a week! I, who value my independence above all else took this as an affront. I have never needed many people in my life. Ondolemar, Heselle, Father, and Master Sinyir are the only people whom I have allowed to remain as constants in it. Of course, as one might imagine, Celeyarel expected our relationship to evolve into a more physical one after a time. I did not object to this, but I derived no pleasure from sex. It is not as if I never tried to enjoy myself. That was the whole point of this...'experiment'. Yet to my great disappointment -and to Celeyarel's even greater disappointment -I could not. I know this is unusual but I see it as an advantage. While others focus on sex I can focus on my career and my unwavering loyalty to the Thalmor.

The water in the cooking pot gurgles loudly and threatens to spill over. "Shit," I curse under my breath and snap my fingers once more for the flames to go out. I wave my left hand towards the cupboard and a mug flies out. To my dismay I have to move out of its path as it seems to be on a collision course with my head. Instead it collides with the wall behind me and shatters. "Beautiful," I mumble as I walk over to clean up the fragments, and then proceed to retrieve a mug the old fashioned way from the cupboard. I am still getting the hang of the Telekinesis spell. Although by every right I can consider myself Adept at Alteration magic it has never come naturally to me like it has to Heselle. She must be a Master by now. I have not heard from her in years, at least three if not more. For all I know she could have mastered every other school of magic as well. Unlikely, but how would I know?

As I sip my tea I glance up at the clock. I will need to be in my office in half an hour so I gulp down the rest.

I am always early to work, I ought to get going. There is so much to be done, and I fear I will not be able to garner the amount of support necessary to even begin solving anything. I have no idea where to start. I stare gloomily at my now empty mug. I am going to need something a lot stronger than Canis Root tea to hold me over today.

After a swig of the Colovian Brandy stored atop the cupboard I feel I am somewhat more prepared to face the day.

Just as I open the door I find myself face to face with a startled Ondolemar -fist poised to knock. His startled expression quickly morphs into one of mirth as he drops his fist to his side and greets me pleasantly.

"Good morning, Estoril."

"Liaison Officer Ondolemar, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"No need to be so formal, we are not at work just yet," He chuckles."I was hoping to accompany you to your office this morning."

"I am in a hurry and have no time to socialize," I argue weakly, since in truth I would not mind the company of my friend today.

"There is sufficient time," Ondolemar reassures dismissively. "You will work yourself into an early grave if you do not find some measure of respite, come." And he holds out his arm to me - a gesture reminiscent of simpler times that I accept reluctantly- we walk out the door, arms linked.

Ondolemar proceeds to talk about anything and everything-save for work. I say very little , choosing to nod at appropriate intervals in the conversation instead.

Upon exiting the tower my discomfort attributable to our close contact escalates.

"We are not children anymore, others will misunderstand," I hiss. Unfortunately, my comment goes wholly unnoticed by Ondolemar, who simply elects not to pay attention, perhaps finding some twisted amusement in my distress? Yes, that must be it.

As we cross the courtyard from the tower to get to the main building a voice calls out:

"Liaison Officer Ondolemar! Is that you?"

At the sound of his name, Ondolemar spins around - an abrupt action which subsequently forces me to do the same- and searches out whom the voice belongs to.

An Altmer, dressed in plain grey robes with a hood nearly covering his eyes advances towards us, waving to attract our attention.

"Ah, Agent Vingalmo!" Ondolemar acknowledges. "I had not anticipated your arrival till the evening. Your journey from Skyrim was pleasant, I hope?"

"As pleasant as one might expect." Vingalmo admits and shakes Ondolemar's hand. "I have been permitted to reside in one of the rooms in that tower over there for the duration of my stay," he states while pointing at the tower across from the one where I live.

"And who might this be? Vingalmo inquires, turning his covered face towards me.

"This is an old friend of mine, Senior Officer Estoril, we have known each other since childhood,"Ondolemar turns to me and adds: "Agent Vingalmo is filling in for one of the contacts I usually deal with in Skyrim who is currently unwell. He has filled in for several contacts on numerous occasions over the years."

"Ah, yes, it really is a pity about Agent Sonena, she was dreadfully ill last time I saw her," Vingalmo laments.

"If you wish to conduct business do not delay on my behalf, I will take my leave." I offer, and attempt to disentangle my arm from Ondolemar's. In response to my efforts, Ondolemar's arm tightens around mine. I throw him a look of confusion, although he does not meet my gaze.

"Agent Vingalmo, while I am looking forward to our discourse I am indisposed at the moment. I promised Officer Estoril I would escort her to her office," Ondolemar explains to Vingalmo apologetically.

An expression of what could be amusement -and something more sinister-dawns on what can be seen of Vingalmo's features."Oh yes, I understand completely, do not let me disturb you. Enjoy your time with your lady."

I can feel my cheeks redden in embarrassment and anger. When Vingalmo's retreating figure is out of earshot I violently rip my arm away from Ondolemar, who looks positively befuddled.

"Oh, don't you look at me like that. You know full well why I am displeased with you."

" What you could be referring to, Estoril?" Ondolemar asks -feigning innocence and barely concealing a smirk.

"I see that you cannot be reasoned with. Fine. But whatever joke you are trying to play is unamusing. You are like a brother to me."

An emotion, not unlike hurt, flickers across his eyes. But just as quickly as I think I see it, it is gone- only to be replaced by an unreadable visage.

"Of course, Senior Officer Estoril. I sincerely apologise for any discomfort you have experienced at my expense. I will leave you to the work which you are in such a hurry to get to. I know my company is no longer needed," he coldly retorts and begins to walk in the direction which Vingalmo had gone in moments ago.

This was not the first time that Ondolemar has acted in... oddly affectionate ways, and every time something of the sort has occurred, I have done my best to ignore it despite my discomfort.

As I watch his retreating figure I know I should feel something.

But I am not sure what.

"Senior Officer Estoril, there is something that Commander Fairndil wishes to see you about." The Junior Officer's voice is steady, but I can sense that whatever news Commander Fairndil needs to relay to me is urgent.

I get up from the seat behind my oak desk and move to stand beside the Junior Officer.

"If that is the case then you must take me to see her at once," I demand, and he complies immediately.

Commander Fairndil used to be the Thalmor First Emissary to Elsweyr before she retired about fifty years ago. After the recent murder of our last Commander, she was appointed his position temporarily while a suitable replacement is being sought after. More than once I have gotten the impression that she is less than thrilled to be working for the Thalmor again. Yet, in her case, I cannot blame her. She has to be well over two hundred years old, and from what I have heard she was pulled out of retirement to fill this position. Although, I am certain she has realized that desperate times have called for desperate measures, and that she was the only person available with enough experience to manage such a situation.

"Commander Fairndil, you had something important to tell me?" I inquire as I approach her desk- the Junior Officer at my heels.

"Yes, I believe we have acquired some very valuable information late last night from a group of our Agents- Uulyon, leave us."

The Junior Officer bows his head lightly and leaves without a word.

"As I was saying," Commander Fairndil continues. " I am sure you know about the groups of Agents being sent infrequently in search for The Beautiful's strongholds. But, what you do not know is that I have recently ordered a campaign, dispersing all available Agents throughout Alinor's surrounding cities, these being; Riverwatch, Riverfeild, Marnor Keep, and Glenview. Unfortunately these efforts have all been in vain, and I was contemplating on sending this search further inland. However, late last night a group of Agents turned up at my door. They had gone against orders and had not joined the others in the had instead been to the island just off the city's shores, Western Coridale, and reported seeing very suspicious activity there. I believe we can safely assume that they may have found what we have all been looking for."

"How do you know that these Agents are not working for The Beautiful?" I demand, perhaps a touch too harshly for addressing my Commander.

Commander Fairndil's brow furrows and she scowls lightly before responding, " these Agents have proved their loyalty to the Thalmor time and time again. One of them happens to be my own niece. I believe we can safely assume that they are above corruption. And then there is a fact that should be obvious to you; I am your Commander and you are not to doubt my verdicts."

" Of course Commander, I apologize for questioning your judgement, it was not my intent to usurp your authority in any way, " I concede- yet I am still unconvinced.

" That is good to hear," she approves. " Now we come to the point where you and your expertise is needed. Upon reading your file I have gleaned that you have successfully sequestered no less that eight of The Beautiful's Agents. That is a feat few can boast of, considering how skilled The Beautiful are at remaining illusive."

I try not to let the flattery go to my head, but I am pleased to be acknowledged for all of my hard work and dedication by my Commander.

"Thank you, Commander Fairndil, you flatter me. I am undeserving of your praise," I say, trying to sound as humble as possible.

"Nonsense! Your dedication and skill is admirable. Now, what I need you to do is to put those skills of yours to good use yet again. If this location in Western Coridale is indeed a stronghold for The Beautiful this could be a turning point. Gather a group of your choosing and leave within a day for the must act quickly- we do not know how long they intend to stay in this location. It would be preferable for you to capture as many agents as possible. However, a dead agent of The Beautiful is better than a live one, so eliminate those you cannot capture. This dossier will have everything you need to know to complete the mission."

I take the dossier out of Commander Fairndil's outstretched hand.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Commander Fairndil, rest assured I will not disappoint you," I assert confidently.

If this lead turns out to be legitimate, it could potentially mark the turning point in this shadow war. On the way back to my office I feel as if I am floating. I cannot wait to get started.

It is late afternoon.

We are shrouded in the darkness of the trees surrounding us-our presence well hidden.

What concerns me is not the heavy silence encircling myself and my group of Officers and Soldiers-but the open field before us.

I know from experience that open fields are never good news. It is impossible to sneak about when there is nowhere to hide. In the center of the field is a lone shack. Before setting sail for Western Coridale, I had debriefed the group of Agents that had been here before. Apparently there is much more to this 'abandoned' shack than meets the eye. They had observed the potential for underground passageways beneath the surface due to a small, seemingly out of place ventilation system to the side of it.

It is all very clever of The Beautiful. Place an inconspicuous looking hut in the middle of a wide open expanse of browning grass. Nobody in their right mind should be tempted to approach it. Especially if the expanse of open grass happens to be in the middle of a forest. Everything about it screams 'trap'.

"Senior Officer Estoril, I believe this is a trap," one of the Soldiers murmurs to me fearfully.

The Soldier beside him apologizes for his friend's tactless remark, but I hardly take notice of either of them. I am focused entirely on the task at hand. It seems there is only one way to proceed.I turn to the Junior Officer on my right...Ocantar, was it? Yes, that was his name.

"Junior Officer, Ocantar," At the sound of his name the Junior Officer is abruptly drawn out of his musings and stands at attention. Before he can voice his acknowledgement, I continue in a clipped tone; " We will confront the enemy directly. I am through hiding. No more cloak and dagger, for once we face the enemy head-on and hopefully surprise them by doing so."

"An excellent decision Senior Officer Estoril, it is fortuitous then that we brought so many soldiers."

I hum in agreement and notice three more Junior Officers lingering off to my right. They seem to have something to say so I prompt them to speak.

" The immediate vicinity appears to be clear, we have cast detect life and have not discovered hidden enemies," one of them reports.

"Good, good," I murmur and then begin doling out orders to the six Junior Officers in my group.

We will split up into three groups, each one comprising of two Junior Officers and ten Soldiers. The first group, lead by Junior Officer Ocantar, will advance upon the shack. No doubt the field is littered with rune traps, thus, I instructed Junior Officer Ocantar to cast wall of flames across the field first, so as to trigger the traps in a relatively safe manner. The flames will undoubtedly destroy the shack and smoke The Beautiful out like the vermin they are, forcing them to face the soldiers head-on. After the field becomes safe to traverse, the first group will attack. While The Beautiful's forces are wrapped up in conflict with the first group, the second group's Soldiers will advance with the Junior Officers in tow. While the Soldiers engage in melee combat, the Junior Officers will be able to support from afar. I will remain with the third and final group. We will stay amongst the shadows of the forest and prevent anybody from escaping.

The field is indeed covered in rune traps- just as I had expected. It seems that The Beautiful are partial to fire runes, because the moment Junior Officer Ocantar's wall of flames touches what must be a rune trap, the steady stream of fire flares up and expands-it's flames coming dangerously close to our position before dying down again.

"Enough," I order, and Junior Officer Ocantar halts his casting. I survey the damage that has been done and am very satisfied.

The shack has been reduced to a pile of rubble and smouldering coals, patches of dry field still burn nicely. The taste of smoke in the air is delicious.

Yes, I am very satisfied.

Before long I notice two figures crawl out from under the remains of the shack. The shadows cast upon them by the flames are harsh, yet, the smoke surrounding them obscures their faces. They stagger, and one trips and falls to their hands and knees, the other tries to help them up but ends up on all fours as well. They are soon overcome by coughing fits, and are undoubtedly beginning to choke on the smoke in the air. One of them seems to be trying to say something but is unable to do so, but when they try again I am able to understand them.

"Well,well, what's a bunch of swanky Thalmor bastards doing out here? Trying to play detective and sniff out the big, bad terrorist organization's hideout, are we? Well, seems like we're the only ones here right now, doesn't it?" One of them taunts.

"Better turn back now if you know what's good for you!" The other chimes in.

I put my hands on my hips and huff incredulously. Do these two...Nobodies! Expect me to do whatever they tell me? Do they take me for a fool!? Do they expect me to gather my troops and simply...leave? No. I will not do that! Even in the off chance that The Beautiful managed to vacate this hideout before we arrived, we can still capture these two presumptuous annoyances and bring them back to headquarters for questioning.

One of the Soldiers from the first group-a pretty, young thing of about eighteen years of age with doe eyes- glances at me nervously. " Are we to proceed, Senior Officer Estoril?" She asks tentatively.

I glower at her in response. I will not have anybody questioning my orders! For any reason! How dare she? It seems like this Soldier needs to learn her place.

" Yes, Soldier, we will proceed exactly as planned," I snarl. And the Soldier shrinks at the venom present in my voice.

"In fact," I continue " I believe that you should lead us, since you seem so keen on questioning my authority. Perhaps you think you would do better?"

A look of pure horror distorts the Soldier's attractive features. "P-please Senior Officer Estoril! I-I-I m-meant no disrespect! I implore you, please do not make me do this!" She begs because she knows how dangerous it would be for her to lead a head-on assault, but I have made up my mind. I am going to make an example out of her.

"That was a direct order, Soldier, it would be unproductive for you to display any further disobedience," I deadpan.

The Soldier nods and bows her head, resigned to her fate.

I briefly turn my attention to the two figures out in the middle of the field. They have managed to both stand upright again. Yet, they have stayed put. No doubt assessing our next move. I then focus my attention back on the first group, all twelve are patiently awaiting my orders.

"She will be leading the first assault, and will use her keen leadership skills to ensure that the rest of us have a clear path," I command while pointing at the disobedient Soldier. "None of you will move an inch until she has gotten at least ten feet into the field. And if there are any of you who are still having second thoughts, know this; those two imbeciles out there are bluffing, why else would they be standing there so exposed and vulnerable to us? They would have to be either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave to face us alone. And remember, bring them to me - alive if possible."

The Soldiers and Junior Officers murmur in collective understanding , and then turn to stare at the Soldier, waiting for her to lead them. She looks very frightened and throws me a pleading look. I ignore it, she takes an audibly shaky breath and walks stiffly onto the field.

It seems like Junior Officer Ocantar's wall of flames did not set off every fire rune. She does not even make it three six before stepping on one. It explodes in a burst of bright flames, and the Soldier lets out a blood-curdling scream before falling limply to the ground with a resounding thud.

I speak before anybody from the first group can comment. " Well, what are you all waiting for? Advance!"

While the first group marches forward, I notice that the two individuals in the middle of the field have yet to move.

This worries me.

I squint my eyes and to try and see through the smoke a little better, but it is of little use. I cannot tell if anyone else is hiding behind them underneath the rubble.

As soon as the first group reaches them one of the two shouts: "Now!" And just as I had expected, at least twenty more figures crawl out of the ground to join them.

What I did not expect was what happened next.

I cannot believe how stupid I had been to overlook the possibility of this occurring.

Above us, the tree's highest branches are lit by purple flashes. And I remember what Heselle told me all those years ago when we were still children.

Detect life does not work on magically obscured, invisible enemies.

I watch, dumbstruck, as at least fifty Agents of the Beautiful-dressed in a variety of different armor -drop from the trees and attack.

"Orders, Senior Officer! What are your orders?!" Junior Officer Ocantar implores.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I hear Junior Officer Ocantar begin ordering Soldiers in my stead.

I just cannot-

Five Soldiers shriek as they are hit by chain lightning.

-seem to-

Blood gushes out of a Junior Officer's slit throat.

-do anything-

A group of my scattered and fleeing troops are halted by a well placed mass paralysis, and mercilessly butchered.

-right.

I am brought out of my morose reverie and back to reality by a spear of ice whizzing past- just barely missing me. I cast ironflesh on myself and dart behind a tree to take cover and assess the damage done to my forces.

They have dwindled from thirty-six to a mere fifteen. This should not have happened.

"Well, look who's here! It's the glorious Senior Officer! Still alive, and with barely a scratch on her!"

My head whips around to my right at the sound of that familiar, taunting voice. I am faced with a leering Altmer, an Agent of The Beautiful no doubt. He leans leisurely against the tree trunk that I am taking refuge behind. His leather armor is lightly singed from direct exposure to smoke and flames, and from climbing up from under the shack's remains. Without a moment's thought, I toss a ball of fire directly at his smug face. He clearly had not expected that, and falls to the ground, writhing in pain and clutching his burnt face. I see that he is trying to cast a healing spell, so I have to act quickly.

Thankfully, no one else has taken note of my presence. I begin to focus my Magika. I wave my arms to bend it to my will, and then release it as a massive,crackling beam of lightning aimed at the Agents of The Beautiful surrounding my remaining forces. At least three of them are disintegrated on impact, while others around them are injured-badly I hope. The rest -all thirty plus of them- are now alerted of my presence. All at once, a myriad of spells are thrown at me. I stop casting chain lightning momentarily to put up a ward and brace myself for impact. When the spells hit, the ward mercifully manages to absorb all damage before dissipating, and I am thrown back by the residual force of at least a dozen spells before I slam hard into the dirt.

I struggle to get up, and stagger on unsteady feet. My whole body hurts and everything is spinning. At least my efforts were not in vain. My few remaining Soldiers are now fighting with a renewed fervor, and The Beautiful's Agents cannot pay attention to me. Just as I attempt to dual-cast a fast healing, an acute,strange pain rips through the back of my right shoulder. I twist my head around to see a glass dagger sticking out of it. At first I am confused. How did that get there? But then I let out a gasp as I feel the dagger being abruptly ripped from my body, and I catch a glimpse of a burnt, mutilated face before I feel myself get stabbed in the back again. And again, and again.

I feel nothing as I fall to the ground once more. The Agent that had stabbed me in the back has left me alone now. Perhaps assuming that I will just bleed out.

I turn my head to the side and spy the glass dagger, now discarded after being used for it's murderous purpose, and soaked in my blood. The light that reflects on the bade dances pleasantly across its surface. It is my glass dagger. It must have somehow fallen out of it's holster when I had hidden behind that tree. How quaint.

So, this is how it ends?

Apparently not, because suddenly I am being lifted, tossed over somebody's shoulder, and carried away. I am too weak to care if the person who is carrying me is friend or foe. But when I feel the warmth of a grand healing being cast and hear Junior Officer Ocantar's voice, I would be lying if I said I was not immensely relieved.

"Senior Officer Estoril," he starts, and his voice sounds breathless-he must be running.

"Everyone else is as good as dead. I cannot get them to regroup. But we will be alright. I am getting us to safety."

I allow myself to take comfort in the momentary respite I have been given. Not allowing myself to think about how exactly Junior Officer Ocantar could have managed to live while everyone else died. I will differ these thoughts to a later, more lucid time.

And so, the haze of exhaustion overtakes me and my world slips into darkness.