Author's Note: Wow! People actually read this thing!

Getting comments prompted me to actually write some more, so here 'tis.

Compliments and paychecks to Bethesda Softworks, I wanna visit Skyrim now.

Nobody Important

Chapter Twenty-One: A Gate to Oblivion

In which all goes as planned, except when it doesn't. Or: Hey, is the ground on fire?

By: N3k0

The Oblivion Gate was massive, standing even taller than the walls around it.

It towered where the entrance to Kvatch used to be, a doorway into Oblivion itself, swirling with ominous, reddish light and scribed with runes of power. What Lyssi could make out of the land beyond it didn't really look habitable. If there was any way to avoid walking into the depths of Hell itself, she would have taken it.

She didn't have much choice though.

As it stood, she had a list of goals and a time limit.

She had to get out of the city to make her way to Anvil. That was where the next Dead Drop would be, that was where she'd intercept the traitor. She'd catch him red-handed, and then kill him. That took precedence, was what made the other goals so pressing: she just didn't have time for an apocalypse.

In order to get out of the city, she needed to bring down this Gate. Once the Gate was down, Martin Septim could go with his Blades, and the fate of the Empire would rest in their capable hands, not hers. The less the heir had to interact with a murderer like her, the better for everyone.

His blood had been so rich, so powerful.

She knew she couldn't resist it, even if she hadn't been starved and injured.

Next time she might not be able to stop at just a taste.

Taking in a breath she didn't really need, she reached out to hold her hand in the center of the swirling vortex.

There came a sick, wrenching sensation.

And then … nothing.

Martin found that the other refugees had started looking to him for leadership. He didn't really know when it had happened, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. But, he wasn't at all surprised, at least, when one of the guardsmen walked up to him, looking panicked.

"Brother Martin, I -" The man swallowed heavily.

Martin put on his most confident face. "What is it?"

The guard looked either way. There was no one in earshot. "Brother Martin, the exit – the hidden one, through the Undercroft – someone – someone opened it."

So, she'd already gone. That exit took two strong men to open. "Are any of the refugees missing?"

"No, no one at all. The men are worried – we're not … what do we do about this?"

There was something … well, many somethings that were just wrong about that Bosmer. "Tell no one who doesn't already know. Has the doorway already been barred again?" The guardsman nodded. "Good. Keep your eyes open. We can't afford to give the Daedra even an inch."

The guard nodded, walking off.

Martin shook his head, praying silently for a miracle. At this point, that was the only thing they had left.

They were good as dead already.

At some point during the conversation, Ariel had come up. He'd be surprised if the guard had noticed her presence, but he was rather expecting her to turn up again soon. What was it that made him so attractive to women who could apparently become invisible at will?

"It sounds like you know more about this than your friend there." She nodded toward the departing guard. "Care to let me in on the secret?"

Martin nodded, taking a deep breath. "I was visited by a Bosmer tonight …"

The heat was oppressive. Lyssi was confident this was the hottest she'd ever been without actively being on fire, and she could feel sweat beading up on her forehead. She swiped her arm across her face, looking around at the burning landscape.

It was so bright it hurt her eyes – like the day at high noon, though her memories of that had already faded over a year of endless night, broken up only by fitful, nightmare-ridden sleep.

But it didn't burn, exactly.

She expected she'd catch aflame at any second from the sheer, unrelenting heat of it, but she wasn't burning yet. A small mercy, in Hell.

There was something ironic about the situation, she just couldn't place what.

Ahead, she could just barely make out the form of what looked like an armored guard.

Above him stood one of the pale lizards, grown larger than a building – larger than any living creature had any right to be.

It roared, and the ground beneath it trembled.