Hello, everyone! I changed the rating of the story to M as there is some adult content in this chapter. However, it's not too explicit, I'd say, and I'm not sure if it really fits the M rating. I would very much like you to tell me your opinion since I would be a lot happier if it could keep the T rating, just because the story itself is more of adventure and much less of violence and… other adult themes.

Ok, so a little update (like 12 hours after this chapter had been published): After a little consultation and a lot of thinking I changed it back to T. There will not be many scenes like this in the story again, if any, and I really think it's not that serious.

Still, a little warning – there is some blood, violence and suggestions. I hope you have a good read nevertheless. Enjoy the chapter. :)

Chapter 19: The Child of Akatosh

"This might be the last time we are talking to each other," Lucia felt brother Martin speaking in her mind. "Something is happening to the Dragonborn and I have a reason to believe she will soon need you."

"You won't talk to me ever again?" she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She had been suspicious of the strange voice echoing in her head before, and also had gone through a period of time when she had hated this tenacious intruder from the bottom of her heart, but it suddenly seemed lonely to her if she was to part with the only being that had kept her company during her imprisonment. Would she be all alone from now on?

"I do not know," he replied honestly. "There might be a time when we meet again, but for now, it is best that we do not, for your own safety and the safety of the Dragonborn. Farewell, my little apprentice. You have learnt well and there is but one thing that remains. Go and learn to live with what you have gained here on your own."

"I will miss you, brother Martin," she whispered in a trembling voice.

"You will not," he said reassuringly and it felt like a soft chuckle. "Stay safe."

Then his presence disappeared. Lucia blinked and the world came spinning around her. She went weak in the knees and suddenly fell down on her soft mattress, darkness enshrouding her slowly as she closed her eyes and fell into a slumber.

She did not know how long she had slept when she opened her eyes again. There was a strange feeling of emptiness inside her, and she knew something was missing but she had no recollection of what had happened. As if she had been doing something for a long, long time but no trace of what it could have been remained. Just how in Oblivion had she spent the last month? She had been here, at the round marble room with tall windows which were too high for her to look from and a mattress in the middle, with a small sliding window right next to the wooden, magic-protected door, both leading to a rather vast corridor. A small privy was situated on the left side of the door and she suspected that the tube opening there led under the corridor. But this was not the only place she had been to during that time. It couldn't have been. Just how could she have forgotten? She sensed that the memories were of great importance to her and could not bear losing them. But she could not remember. Feeling a slight sting of regret, a lone tear slid her cheek. Then another, until she curled on the mattress and started sobbing to her knees.

Then, a noise issued from the outside and she heard several people shouting. The voices came near and then there was a click and the door swung open. She quickly sat up, facing a dark elf in purple robes with silver lining, his soft white hair framing his face and flowing over his shoulders. A pair of shining fiery eyes was staring at her and she shuddered at the wickedness which radiated from them. Jumping on her feet, she stepped back until her back was pressed on the wall behind her. Two other figures came flying into the room, a wavy white-gold haired Altmer woman in the Thalmor robes and a man with a light brown mop dressed in a simple dark red tunic belted at the waist. Lucia spotted a bracelet and a ring on his left hand, the enchantments cast on them emitting a light blue glow. They quickly stepped in the Dunmer's way.

"Step aside," the dark elf commanded. "We have no use for this brat anymore, except for killing her and gloriously presenting her corpse to the Dragonborn. Oh how delightful the sight will be!"

"You can't just kill an innocent child!" the female Altmer screamed. "Have the Thalmor fallen so low?!"

"Low?" the Dunmer hissed. "You really don't know anything. No, the Thalmor is rising to its dominance. Can't you see?"

"See what?" the man asked coolly without the slightest movement of his body. "That our once upon a time beloved leader gave in to madness and decided to cast the land into darkness and rid it of its only hero? Power is one thing, but what can we gain if there is no hope anymore? What can we gain if the only thing we leave behind is hatred and lust for vengeance?"

"Traitors. Your brains are so limited… step aside if you want to save your sorry asses. I'm giving you one last chance."

The two objectors raised their hands in unison and bright lightning bolts thundered from their stretched fingers. A barrier evolved around the dark elf and absorbed all of their power, the fiery-eyed man grinning maliciously. He raised his own hand in response, casting a single dazzling beam of flames which shot forward in a blinding speed. The two Altmer quickly jumped aside and Lucia followed them. A split second after, a scorched circle appeared on the wall she had been leaning to. She gasped as her mind processed what had just happened. With her eyes widened in horror, she watched the three people in the room and silently prayed to Stendarr for the safety of the Altmer.

A lot of shouting followed along with more beams and thunders, and the marble walls were slowly turning the singed color of greyish dark brown. The air was heavy with foul smelling smoke which filled Lucia's nostrils, came down her lungs and made her cough intensely and she watched her mattress get burnt into ashes when three fireballs in a row hit it. The three elves hopped, skipped and jumped, evading blazing shots of lightning and fire. Occasionally a ward appeared but dissolved quickly as the next shot struck it. Lucia ran around in dismay, trying to avoid the fight as much as possible, leaning to the walls, crouching, leaping and rolling. Then there was a blinding ray of light and the Altmer man fell on the ground, his body lifeless and broken.

"Renadil!" the woman screamed and a painful grimace disfigured her face. She was preparing to fire at the vicious Dunmer again when another figure ran into the room and pushed her aside, making her trip and fall. The man was tall, dressed in the blue of the Thalmor robes, but Lucia could see nothing of his face as his hood was pulled deep down and covered it completely. She sensed strange magic about him and it made the hairs on the back of her head stand on end.

"Leave if you value your worthless life," he hissed to the woman. "This one is my prey."

The woman stared at him, shock displaying in her eyes, but then she slowly rose and staggered to the door. The Dunmer turned to her but was quickly smashed against the wall as Unrelenting Force lifted his body and flew him over the room in a breath-taking speed. The echo of the man's voice resonated in the room and shook its walls. Lucia gasped.

This man had just Shouted! She had seen her mama do it when a group of bandits had decided to attack the Lakeview Manor. They had been dealt with before they could even raise their weapons, and it had been the only time she had seen Aislinn so furious, stepping in between her and the scoundrels, her body trembling as she had been trying to shield her. And this man… he wielded the same power as her, and he was a Thalmor. The only man who should have been able to do this apart from the legendary Greybeards was supposed to be dead, and she was sure that this one had nothing to do with Ulfric Stormcloak. And yet, he had Shouted. Then, the train of her thoughts was disrupted when the newcomer spoke.

"No Daedra will save you now, Marilis," he said quietly. His voice was soft and enchanting, and Lucia shuddered as he spoke. "You believe too much in their power… but there are powers far beyond the strength of the inhabitants of Oblivion. Do not underestimate the Dragonborn. She will not yield to the World-Eater."

Marilis smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but was struck by an icebolt before he could. It pierced his heart and the Dunmer's body hit the ground, a cracking sound which upset Lucia's stomach echoing through the room as his skull crashed with the scorched ground.

The man in the Thalmor robes walked slowly to the corpse and searched it. Having picked up a small object from the pleats of Marilis's purple attire, he turned to Lucia and threw it to her. She caught it, surprise reflecting in her face, and studied it. It was a strange object, shaped like a dragon claw and made of pearl.

"The Dragonborn is in the laboratory deep down in this complex," he said quietly. "Go down this corridor and take the first door on your left when you exit it. Do not stop and absolutely do not let yourself get killed. You must deliver this to her. Oh, and take some of these as well, she'll need them," he searched his robes for a few flasks of potions, red and green in color, and a smaller netted bag to put them in, leaned forward and passed them to her.

She took them hesitantly, nodded and darted out to the corridor without questioning his demeanor. It did not matter. She wanted to get out of here, out of this terrible place which she had no good memories of, and find her mama as soon as possible. She was scared and unsure of how she would manage to get there but that only made her more determined. She sped into a wild run with the image of Aislinn being the only thing on her mind.

The tall elf exhaled as he bent to the dead body of Marilis again, searching his robes thoroughly. He found several pouches, some of them with enchanted jewelry while others contained a number of white translucent stones.

"What a nasty way of dealing with things," he snorted with disgust. "Since when have you grown fond of Namira's ways, Mehrunes Dagon?" he asked the wall in front of him absent-mindedly.

"The way does not matter as long as it brings power," a response came in a deep and melodic voice, a voice of great might and authority, so calm and yet sharp as the finest blade. The elf froze in surprise.

"I do not remember inviting you to this plane, Dagon," he hissed.

"And I do not remember asking you to kill my champion, Andariath Torelloy," the Daedra responded icily. "What? Surprised to hear your name after such a long time?" he asked when the elf's eyes narrowed.

"He was threatening my prey," he said quietly.

"Too bad," Mehrunes Dagon chirped affectedly. "There will only be one winner in this hunt, for there is only one Dragonborn. She defied me and she has to pay for it. Her suffering is music to my ears and her power will become the drive of my reign. You better remember these words, pitiful Aldmer. You may be one of the eldest and most experienced creatures in your plane, but there are places even you cannot reach. But then again, you would not feel the need to use the Dragonborn had you not known. Let us see who comes out victorious."

With that, his voice faded into nothingness. Andariath Torelloy snorted as he realized the awful irony. Marilis had been a fool and he had been used, for Mehrunes Dagon knew all too well that the Dragonborn would not submit to the Thalmor nor the World-Eater. He had been playing a cruel game with him, sending him to his death. What a cruel, ugly world this was. Too cruel to leave the power to the ones who were not fit to wield it.

He cast a flame spell on the Dunmer's corpse, burning everything including the rotstones to ashes. When nothing but coal dust remained of them, he turned around and walked away, nothing in his posture proclaiming that he had just killed one of the most dangerous men in Tamriel and spoken to his Daedra Lord. He had trained this posture well and taken it to perfection.

The night had fallen and the windows lining the walls of the vast corridor which descended to the depths of the citadel gloomed in dark shadows. The torches between them provided light to his path as he paced down, his shadow trembling on the ground. After a while, he reached the exit of the now vacated corridor and found himself standing in a hexagonal room with slightly concave walls. Next to the table of the same shape which stood in its middle lay a corpse. It belonged to the white-gold haired Altmer woman who had so bravely protected the little girl which was now, if everything had gone the way it was supposed to, trying to save the Dragonborn.

"Too bad," he whispered. "Out of them all, you were among the more likeable ones. But the weak never survive long in this world."

He walked to the body and shut her eyes gently. Then he turned to the door right next to the one he had come from and entered another corridor. This battle was not over yet.

Aislinn opened her eyes. The way she felt could not be described by words, as if she had been run over by a million of horses, as if her body had gone through the fiercest flames and the iciest frost at the same time, as if she had been drowning for thousands of years and pierced by myriads of scorching blades, and her heart had been squeezed into a tiny bundle and then stretched to the vastness of Nirn itself, but she was still kept alive and sober to feel every touch of the pain inflicted on her. She did not have the strength to cry anymore, and even less to move or make a sound. She was not keen on studying her surroundings either, withdrawing herself to the soothing feeling of resignation.

Just kill me already, she wished. I can't take this anymore…

"Dovakhiin," a voice spoke to her, and it had two natures to it. It was a deep, quiet and slightly hoarse voice of an elderly Khajiit man, and Aislinn remembered Ri'saad, the leader of the traveling caravans and a dealer for the Thieves Guild, but although it came from his body, she knew it was not him speaking. Another dark and terrifying presence leaked from it, and the sound of it was much deeper and rougher than the smooth Khajiit voice. It was the sound of raw power which threatened to swallow her.

Alduin, she whispered in her mind but did not manage to articulate the word.

"So long have I waited," he said in a low voice. "And now you're here before me. I do not fancy humans in any way, but to be honest, after being hosted by so many weaklings, their pitiful vessels crumbling apart upon me, I do find your body rather… appealing."

Two claws slid over Aislinn's chest and left a pair of thin lines which slowly turned the color of her blood.

"You have the noble blood of a dovah in you," he purred affectionately. "You will help me return to my glory. How ironic, that the one who was supposed to stop me would be helping me come back."

And there it was again, the sudden burst of energy that exploded in her when she was being threatened and driven into corner. She winced and shuddered and then an abrupt flash of pain shot through her body, making her scream in terror. She was not paralyzed by the rotstone anymore. Instead, there were tubes running through her limbs, two pierced her wrists while the other two came through her calves, strange liquid flowing inside. They were solid and still in their places, and the slightest movement made them tug at Aislinn's arms and legs, tormenting her to the edge of madness. She gasped and felt tears well up in her eyes against her will.

"Now, Dovakhiin," Alduin said slowly with a slight undertone of amusement in his voice, "let us get this over with. It will all be easier if you just surrender yourself to me. Come, Dovakhiin. Give me your soul and the souls of the dovah you have killed which are rightfully mine."

She watched as the old grey-furred and now wrinkled and ragged Khajiit walked over to her left side and pulled a translucent pliable tube from somewhere behind her, probably from a machine which was connected to the solid tubes penetrating through her limbs. Her blood ran cold at the thought of what was about to happen, but she'd rather die than give Alduin anything of hers.

Holes opened in the tubes so the strange liquid suddenly flowed into her body, applying pressure to the soft tissues inside, connecting her flesh and mind with the World-Eater's. She felt a cold presence grasping her whole being and more pain followed, stabbing, piercing, crushing and tearing her apart, trying to rid her of something that had been a part of her for as long as she could remember, her very essence.

She gave out a tormented cry and her body trembled violently but she refused to give in.

"Kill… me…" she rattled weakly, forcing her head to keep facing the run-down Khajiit. He glowered at her, displeased with the result, and ceased his efforts momentarily. Then, a contended grimace replaced his angered expression and he leaned to her so she felt his shallow breath on her face.

"You are indeed strong, Dovakhiin," he uttered softly, "but it only makes it better for me in the end. It just means that I am going to become that much stronger. But you are still human, and I will crush that human side of you. I have studied your kind and it appears that you are quite… particular about mating. It would seem that the lousy Dunmer who delivered you had started before me but couldn't quite finish the job. Maybe I should demonstrate how to break a human's spirit for him."

He smiled at her repulsively, making her heart stop at once. There was a ripping sound and she knew that her shirt had come off. Despair got the better of her and she wanted to cease her existence. She tried to escape to the depths of her conscious, forcing herself to reshape the reality she was seeing to fit the boundaries of acceptable, to forget what she was going through, just as she had done when Marilis had tried to toy with her, but this tormentor of hers was perceptive and prevented her from achieving that. He made her look at him, see the beast beyond the tattered face of the catman, and his gaze petrified her and made the time stop. She heard voices inside her, whispering and calling to her.

Give in, Dovakhiin, they urged her soundly, the force of their calls crushing her spirit. Become a part of the power you cannot escape, and the circle will be completed. Behold as the world falls only to be born anew. You do not have to fight this power. Give in and you will gain from it.

She felt his presence everywhere. His touch was soft at one moment and rough at the other, leaving her tremble and forcing a soft moan out of her lips. It mixed with the sharp pain of her limbs being tugged at and she cried out in agony. She was silenced the next moment, feeling the tender surface of his tongue against hers.

There was a burst of emotions springing from her chest in every direction of her body. Pain. Fear. Despair. Regret. Resentment. Hatred. And the desperate urge to crush this repulsive existence, tear it apart and scatter it all around the Planes so no-one could ever put it together again. And yes, she would. There was an inner smile spreading about her when she realized that the effect of his actions was the exact opposite of what he had wanted. No, he would not subdue her like that. She would prevail.

Dovakhiin, a voice called to her again, but it was the gentle voice she had heard the last time. There is strength in you which Alduin does not understand. Use it against him.

Paarthurnax, she called to him, casting away the restraint which had prevented her from accepting his presence before. It really is you.

Su'um ark morah, Dovakhiin, the voice said and a soothing calmness took over her. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The dragon in the Khajiit body seemed furious, ready to bury his claws in her body, but several things happened when he raised his hands.

A spectrum of sounds reached Aislinn's ears, starting from a resonant creak of opening door up to several clamorous screams which echoed through the spacious place, and a pair of icebolts flew in Alduin's direction, barely missing his head as he quickly ducked. Aislinn turned her head to look around for the first time, registering a vast chamber whose walls were raised in large blocks of sandstone, connecting at its center in a massive cross vault. She gasped as the sharp pain in her limbs reminded her she was still pinned down by the cursed tubes but continued turning nevertheless, ignoring it and trying to carve as much of the place into her memory as possible.

The platform she was lying on was situated in the far end opposite the entrance door, connected to a strange device which reminded her of Dwemer mechanisms, steam coming out of the tubes which stuck out of a round container, except unlike the typical dwarven machines, this one was made in glass and other translucent materials. She could see the strange colorless liquid bubbling inside. But before she could wonder what it really was, an object flew straight through the container, breaking it in pieces, and a loud splash followed as the liquid flooded the floor. The tubes in Aislinn's arms and legs jerked and she failed to suppress a tormented scream. A series of yells and shouts followed and she suspected at least four other people in the room. Then she gasped when she heard a soft high pitched voice, too young to belong to an adult, shrieking as it approached.

"Lucia!" she cried out and a horrific grimace shaped her face. Why? Why was she here, in the middle of the fight? She had no means to protect her… no means to protect anyone. The girl was there in a split second, fear reflecting in her widened eyes as she skipped and dodged the occasional shots of magic fire and frost and a pair of buzzing arrows. Aislinn praised the child for being swift and quick to react. She could turn into a deadly fighter if trained properly… but somehow it seemed to her that she had already received some training. Not from her though. Just what had happened to the innocent girl that she had been raising, keeping her out of fights and the cruelties of the world?

Another flash of pain shot through her as her adopted daughter tugged at the tubes that pierced her, and she watched a pair of anguished tears slide down her cheeks, but the little girl continued stubbornly, gritting her teeth, until they finally slipped out. The image of her blurred suddenly when blood started streaming from Aislinn's wounds and she felt the precious life energy leave her body. Then Lucia's voice resonated somewhere near her head and a flask mouth was pressed to her lips.

"Mama," she whispered in a trembling voice, "drink up!"

A healing potion. Lucia had come prepared and acted on full conscience of what she was doing. Aislinn was shocked at the discovery but forced herself to cast it away for the time being and swallow the slightly bitter liquid that flowed into her mouth. She had always hated the potions and their immediate stinging effects as they spread in her body and repaired cell after cell, tissue after tissue, but it felt soothing this time, the pain slowly fading from her body. She had downed the flask when an arrow came flying towards her. Lucia gasped but a dark figure landed suddenly just before the platform with a loud splash as the spilt liquid spattered all around and a blade split the arrow in halves. Aislinn focused on the newcomer, noticing daedric armor and a pair of blades, a daedric one and an ebony one. And from down below the helmet came… no, that could not be true. A veil of hair of that all too familiar rust color. But Brynjolf in a daedric armor? Then again, that would explain the sloppy way he was moving around, the extremely loud sound as he had landed behind her…

"Staying safe, I hope, lass?" a hoarse voice issued. There was no amusement in it, the joke sounded cold as ice and Aislinn shivered.

Another flask appeared at her lips and this time, spicy light green liquid came down her throat, making her cough and mist with tears, but she felt her strength returning slowly. She was just in time to spot Alduin rising on his feet again in attempt to smother the helpless and unarmed Lucia who stood right next to her, trying to help her on her feet. Aislinn rose furiously, her eyes shooting fire at the dragon in human form, trembling as she still felt the recent blood loss, but refusing to give in. She took a deep breath and her lips parted.

"Fus Ro Dah!"

The Shout was deafening, thundering about the vast chamber, shaking its foundations and causing a screen of sandy dust to descend from the walls and the ceiling, covering everyone in a blanket of greyish yellow. An immense force lifted Ri'saad's body and thrusted it into the wall behind, dismissing the already half crumbled vessel that the Black Dragon had been using to store his soul. Aislinn ran to it, stripping it in one skilled movement and pulling Ri'saad's ragged tunic over her mostly bare body. A dark presence lifted from the corpse and Aislinn, quickly running back to Brynjolf, watched it roam the room. Clearly it was deciding on its next target but it was harmless for now and she decided to ignore it for she would not be able to deal with it anyway.

She focused on the thief who was fighting three elves, two in deep blue robes and one in gilded armor, whom she finally spotted for the first time. And then there was another one, a ragged Altmer woman, but nevertheless graceful and beautiful as she fought her way to Brynjolf, a ward spell in one hand while the other kept shooting icebolts at her enemies, her long black hair flying about her, waving with elegance. Aislinn knew that woman and she frowned at the realization.

Dovakhiin! a voice inside her echoed in warning.

That woman… she thought angrily but the voice continued.

Leave her be. Do not let your agitation take over you. She is on your side now.

She killed you! Aislinn screamed in her mind.

I am right here, Dovakhiin. Do not waste your energy on meaningless revenge.

Aislinn sighed and was forced to duck as an arrow flew past her. The three Thalmor were approaching steadily, two mages at sides with their wards raised while the armored one in their middle held a daedric bow, an arrow nocked ready, aiming steadily at Brynjolf. She knew he would not dodge it as long as she was behind him, and so she stepped aside, pulling him along just as the arrow buzzed through the air. It missed them by a hair.

"Stay behind me," she ordered Lucia as she turned her head to her. "No matter what, don't leave my side and don't let them have a clear aim at you. Do you understand?"

The little girl nodded timidly and Aislinn could feel her anxiety.

"You stay behind me," Brynjolf commanded sternly, pulling out his bow and reaching for an arrow, but he was ignored as his protégé put up a ward spell of her own and shot a fireball at the elves. He groaned. That was his lass, all right. As reckless as ever.

Her magic was not strong but she achieved what she had wanted to: the three Altmer ran in different directions and the formation was broken. Brynjolf and Sinawen both used the distraction to fire at them but the elves were skilled in combat and evaded the shots fairly effortlessly.

"Just who in Oblivion are they?!" Aislinn growled and her brows furrowed with concentration as she tumbled to evade a spray of icebolts while pulling Lucia behind her.

"Squires," the thief said with a snort. "Some kind of Thalmor elite or something."

"Great," she smirked. "And I hope you're proud of yourselves!" she called to them, taunting and provoking. "The mighty elite with great equipment against an unarmed woman who just got out of her deathbed, a mere thief in an insanely heavy armor and an obviously weary runaway!"

Brynjolf's eyes widened in shock and the elves turned to her, their faces red with fury.

"Behind Brynjolf!" she commanded Lucia and the girl obeyed. Aislinn waited until the elves fired at her and then Shouted again.

"Feim Zii Gron!"

Her body turned into a mere spirit, a faint light blue glow emitting from her translucent frame as she ran towards the elves. She could hear Brynjolf screaming at her but paid him no attention, her mind fully focused on just one thing. She leapt towards them and quickly swung behind the back of the one in gilded armor, ridding him of his sword which he had attached to his belt. Her figure turned solid again, and before the elves could react, she sliced the throat of the one before her, leaving his corpse to slide down on the floor.

The advantage of not wearing any armor was that she could move around so swiftly that no shot would hit her as long as she kept concentrating, and so she danced around gracefully, a ward spell ready at her left hand while her right was gripped tightly around the hilt of her newly claimed sword. The two enemies did not falter, though, and refused to let her close onto them, slowly but surely rejoining and driving her their way. She heard Brynjolf and Sinawen approach, Lucia on their tail, and the two elves ran into a corner. Aislinn sensed and opportunity and Shouted again, but her enemies jumped to either side along the walls forming a right angle, ready to dodge the impact, and they suddenly got closer to her. It was the exact moment they were waiting for. Their hands quickly groped about the folds of their robes, pulling out small objects which they threw at Aislinn's feet. Thick white mist appeared and she backed away quickly, painfully aware of how vulnerable she was without the possibility to Shout again. Brynjolf reached her and tried to pull her away, but then something strange happened.

A blaze of golden flames sprang to life and burned the rotstones and the mist, driving it away with a soft hissing sound. They did not singe and they were pleasant on touch, warming the heart and spirit of the three defenders. There was something divine about them, as if Akatosh himself had decided to come to an aid, the beautiful sparks of existence which condemned all that was opposed to creation. Aislinn looked around in slight confusion and her eyes widened when she detected their source. It was Lucia.

The little girl stood there, her innocent face lit in shades of gold, motionless except for her eyes which kept roaming the place cautiously. And then the magic was broken, the light faded and everyone started moving at once.

Aislinn swung to her right, stabbing one of her enemies in his stomach, and Sinawen finished him with a pair of ice bolts. Brynjolf moved to her left but he was too slow in his heavy armor; the other elf circled him and set him ablaze with an effortlessly aimed fireball. He cried with pain and staggered as the flames burned his skin and Aislinn promptly jumped to his side, activating a healing spell at once. Sinawen prepared for a shot but she was beaten to it by an unexpected guest. A tall figure in deep blue robes appeared at the entrance door and fired a thin and deadly icebolt at the Altmer. It pierced right through his heart and pinned him to the wall until the remaining warmth of the elf's body melted it and the corpse slid down. Sinawen gasped.

Aislinn, Brynjolf and Lucia turned around to face the man but his hood revealed nothing of his face, keeping him a mystery for the three of them.

"Go," Sinawen whispered to them. "This is my fight. You get away from here."

A sudden realization struck Aislinn's mind and she glanced at the elf with pure hatred. This was the one. This person had personally killed her beloved teacher as well as two of the Greybeards. This was the mastermind behind all this mess, the wicked schemer, the repugnant existence which should not have been born into Nirn, the ugly joke of the Divines who tried to trample upon her destiny. She would kill him and claim redemption. She would crush him and tear his soul apart, sending it down the path of no return. She would absolutely not leave this man to roam the land freely and have his way.

"Yol Toor Shul!" she Shouted, flames sprang from her mouth, but the response was immediate.

"Wuld Nah Kest!" he replied, his Shout sending him just a few feet away from Aislinn, his hood staying in its place as if it was held there by magic, which it probably was.

She darted towards him but he was quick, stepping aside and leaving her to lose her balance.

"You will not defeat me, Dragonborn," he said calmly. "I will not have it so. You will go and find the Elder Scroll, and you will then return and do my bidding, for there is no other choice left for you."

"I will kill you," she snarled as her trembling frame rose from the ground.

Dovakhiin! Paarthurnax's voice yelled in her mind. You must not engage in a fight with him!

"I will kill him!" she replied in a loud and furious voice.

She was preparing to charge at him again but her eyes widened when he aimed an ice bolt at Lucia. Aislinn shrieked in terror but it was Sinawen this time who stepped in promptly and shielded the girl from his onslaught.

"Go!" she urged again. "Do not waste any more time, just go!"

Aislinn nodded helplessly and ran for it. Brynjolf grabbed Lucia's hand quickly and dragged the girl away from the fight. Sinawen, trembling and pale in her face, circled the tall elf so she would always stand between him and the trio of runaways.

He waited until the echo of their footsteps faded away and silence took over the place, and then the hood slid back and revealed his face. Dark eyes with violet sparks on the edges of their irises watched Sinawen attentively and she shuddered at the sight.

"You gained their trust again," he said, a soft smile curling on his lips.

Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a stern, disapproving look.

"You know you still have a chance," he told her.

She did. But she was tired. He would never love her and she was tired of hiding and lying to everyone, tired of scheming and fearing for her very life. It was not worth it. Not this unrequited love of hers, not any kind of power she would be granted, not even her life itself. It was not worth the pain and fear she had gone through, the never ending insecurity and the feeling of shame and regret that had been constantly haunting her. She was staring at him firmly and then suddenly, something had broken inside of her and a pair of tears slid down her cheeks. He gave her a sorrowful look and it hurt her even more to know it was feint.

"You have chosen your path," he said. It was a statement, there was no uncertainty about it. "If only you had stayed true to your wicked nature," he sighed.

She closed her eyes and knew what was coming. There was no hesitation as he raised his hand and sent a single icebolt flying her way. It stabbed her heart and turned the color of blood when her body dropped on the ground and the life it had harbored slowly faded away.

Without stopping to even look at her, he walked past her, towards the door and entered the corridor beneath it. All was well and went his way… except for the fact that one of those blasted companions of the Dragonborn had been blessed by Akatosh himself. An awakened child, an unexpected threat to his plans. The Dragonborn sure knew how to choose her friends but he would see to it that the life of that girl would end before it even began.

Ok, it was kind of funny writing this chapter. I found out that I'm absolutely hopeless with telling sides, mistaking right for left and the other way around. So I'm lucky that I check the details in the previous chapters because I discovered I had accidentally made the blueprint of the Marblous Citadel different from what it's supposed to look like. I stuck to the one described in the previous chapters in order not to confuse you but I feel ashamed of myself now. :D It's too bad I can't actually post pictures here because it would be nice to add a plan of it. It is a marvelous piece of architecture, after all. (Marblous Citadel… isn't it a great name? Oh no, I'm not bragging, I would absolutely not dare to… oh, ok, I'm bragging. But sometimes I just feel so proud of my creations, even if they're this simple. :D)

Huh, and the chapters just keep getting longer and longer. Hopefully the next one will be shorter. It's unexpectedly hard to keep the text smooth when it's so long. And then I have to proofread it and I start falling asleep when I reach the fifth page. :D

I would also like to thank the Guest for his/her lovely review. Even though I would much like to know what "different" means. :D But anyway, thank you, it made me happy and I'm glad you like the story. :)

So, that's about it. As I will be kind of busy with my job, I'm not sure when the next chapter is going to come out. It all depends on how well it's going to write itself (and no, there's nothing wrong with the formulation). Still, thanks for reading it and hopefully I won't disappoint you. Stay tuned.

Mirwen