When she returned to Anvil, it was almost close to midnight. The city's streets were void of people, making it easy to walk through and head straight into the Fighters Guild without any distractions. Most of the other guild members were asleep, but Tala managed to catch Azzan heading to his chambers for the night. She made a point to call out to him to get his attention before he could close the door to his quarters.

"You've finished?" Azzan astoundingly responded.

"Yep!" Tala cheerfully replied. "Elante of Alinor is now hard at work with her research." When Azzan's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, she quickly added, "Before you protest about how I left the client behind in a cave, she insisted on staying and sending me on my way. I completely cleared it of the Daedra so that she could safely study in peace."

Azzan then flashed an impressed smile. "Excellent! Good work, Guild-mate. Here's your payment for the contract." He then went into his office and pulled a sack of coin from a drawer in his desk. As Tala walked into the room, he approached her and added, "Nine-hundred septims, and it's all yours."

"Thanks." Tala said. "Now I'll let you get to sleep. I'm going to do the same and return to Chorrol first thing in the morning... unless you have other Warder-class contracts for me while I'm here?"

"I don't. So you're free to return home. Sleep well, and until next time." He then let her exit the room before closing the door to his quarters.

Tala then make her way down to the sleeping quarters of the Guild and found herself an open bed to crash in for the night. She slept a solid eight hours and upon waking she wasted no time in suiting back up into her Glass armor, though she decided to tuck her helmet into her knapsack, figuring she wouldn't run into any serious trouble on the road back to Chorrol. As she stepped out of the Guild, she noticed that the usual hustle and bustle of the town wasn't present, but she did hear commotion going on to the right of her. Upon glancing down the road, she saw a trio of men in what appeared to be a serious discussion... or so she assumed based on the worried looks on two of their faces. The commotion seemed strange to her. Out of curiosity, she decided to wander down the road and approach them. As she got closer, she recognized one of the people in the group: Newheim the Portly. She remembered helping him during a Fighters Guild contract by getting his flagon back from a group of Bosmer bandits that were causing trouble. She had taken Maglir with her for that contract... lazy little sellout that he was.

"Newheim?" Tala said to catch his attention.

Instantly, the three men turned to face her. While the other two grew wide-eyed and mystified by her presence, Newheim appeared somewhat confused.

"Huh?" Was the initial reply. But once he recognized Tala, his confusion quickly switched to delight. "Ah yes! The little blue-haired Breton who got my flagon back! Good to see you again!"

As both men stared perplexingly at the Nord, one of the men- a Bosmer in a ragged tunic- slowly started saying, "Newheim... you do realize she's the Champi-"

Tala quickly flashed a smile and made a point to interrupt the mer before he could finish the sentence. "Good to see you again as well! Hey, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but I feel like there's something strange going on this morning. I don't see a whole lot of people on the street. Did something happen?"

Newheim blinked once before he replied, "Didn't you hear? Someone attacked the Chapel of Dibella last night."

Tala's eyes widened and her jaw went slack. "What?!"

"I know. A terrible crime." The Bosmer sullenly concurred. "Everyone in the Chapel murdered! Who could have done such a thing... and why?"

Her heart sank a little as she let the thought ruminate in her head. "That's horrible... how did no one see or hear anything?" She quietly murmured.

"That's what we're wondering." The third man- a Nord with dirty blond hair, dirt on his hands and face, and only wearing pants and a fur vest for a shirt- suddenly spoke up with annoyance laced in his tone. "I'd like to get my hands on the cowards that did that. I'm even thinking about joining the Prophet's holy crusade!"

Tala raised a suspicious eyebrow at his last comment. Before she could ask anything, she caught wind of someone piously preaching further down the road. Her attention turned towards the stone canopy near the Castle gates, where most of the civilians were gathered around listening to the speech-giver, and across from it was the Chapel. A Redguard soldier was standing vigil in front of the chapel doors, so she broke away from the trio to get closer to the supposed crime scene.

As soon as the guard saw her getting nearer, he made a point to address her. "I wouldn't go in there... unless you have a strong stomach."

Initially Tala stopped and remained quiet for a few seconds before she decided to reply. "So the rumors are true. The Chapel was attacked last night?"

The guard nodded. "We have orders to leave everything just the way it was until the investigation into the Chapel attack is finished."

She then peered over his shoulder to look through the partially open doorway. All she could see was burned down candles resting atop of the alter and blood splatters across the floor. If there was anything else, she couldn't see it from the entranceway. "I can't believe something like this happened." She quietly commented.

"It's baffling." The guard concurred. "How anyone could have gotten in and out of there without being seen by our patrols is beyond me. Maybe that Prophet is right... some kind of unholy doom visited upon us."

There was that talk of a Prophet again. Her sapphire eyes then darted back to the sentry in front of her. "What Prophet?"

The guard then pointed over to the gathering. "He's been preaching for the last hour and a half across the street there. I used to think he was crazy, but now he seems to be making sense..." He then chuckled to himself before he added, "I hope that doesn't mean I'm going crazy now!"

She then turned her body towards the stone canopy and carefully approached the gathering. As she mingled with the crowd to get closer, Tala got more details regarding this so-called Prophet. He appeared to be an old Imperial priest; he wore a set of green robes, and his hair was shaggy and unkempt. His voice sounded hoarse and cracked with age, yet its volume rang strong as he continued to preach his sermon.

"And Talos said to the Arctus, 'Let us join as one to fortify this throne, this land, these people, each one glorious under heaven!' Would you not do the same, children of Cyrodiil? No, you would not! This is plain! You looked away when the fires flickered, and now act lost that they are gone! Only death remains for Tamriel! Death... and Oblivion! You pore over your dusty tomes of lore. You study ancient genealogies and bloodlines. Look you to blood for truth? There is truth in blood, but it is not the truth that you seek! The truth is written in the blood of the innocent, there in the Chapel of Love! Can you not read the ancient runes? 'As oiobala Umarile, Ehlnada racuvar'! A curse and a threat to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear! Are there are any among you who still understand the ancient tongue? 'By the eternal power of Umaril, the mortal gods shall be cast down'. Who will match the deeds of Sir Amiel and his companions when they smote the Wyrm of Elenglynn to recover the Cuirass of the Crusader? Think on this... what happened here is only the beginning..."

As the man finished his speech, the local beggar Penniless Olvus looked around at the crowd and noticed Tala standing beside him. Upon recognizing her, his attention went straight to her as he softly gasped in amazement. "Oh my... it's you!"

The awed declaration had the rest of the crowd turning to stare at her. As they reacted in the same manner as their town beggar, Tala merely smiled politely at the people and nodded her acknowledgement towards them.

"Oh my." The Prophet commented, amazed at how quickly his audience turned to swoon at the strange warrioress amongst them. "To what do I owe this honor? I am but a humble prophet. What business do you have with me?"

"Have you come to help us, Champion?" Olvus softly said to her.

"Um... I'm... I'm just here to know more about the attack that happened last night." Tala nervously replied.

"This is only the beginning." The elder preacher gravely repeated. "Umaril has returned, as foretold by Pelinal Whitestrake in his dying breath!"

"Umaril? Who's that?"

"Umaril the Unfeathered... the sorcerer-king of the Ayleids who ruled over this land for long ages before the rise of Men. He was cast down by Pelinal Whitestrake. But Umaril's spirit survived... and now he has returned to seek vengeance upon the gods."

Tala blinked long and slow so as to avoid showing her confusion on her face. "Who is Pelinal Whitestrake?"

The Prophet exasperatingly huffed. "Does no one remember the old tales?!"

"I'm a foreigner with little education in Cyrodiilic history. So kindly educate me." Tala retorted.

"Saint Pelinal, the Divine Crusader of legend. Alessia's companion when she overthrew the rule of the Ayleids three thousand years ago. Pelinal- with the aid of the gods- fought the Ayleid sorcerer-king Umaril and slew him. But Umaril's spirit survived, and he has now returned!"

"I see..." Tala gently responded, trying her best to sound sympathetic to his excessive ranting. "So... you think the chapel attack has something to do with this?"

There was another vexing heave as the Prophet scrunched his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you understand nothing?! The blood speaks! I can read the ancient runes, if you cannot. 'As oiobala Umarile, Ehlnada racuvar', in the Ayleid tongue. 'By the eternal power of Umaril, the mortal gods shall be cast down.' A curse upon Umaril's ancient foes... and a threat!"

Tala was patiently silent as the man vented. She heard him explain all of that in his speech and he didn't need to repeat it, yet it was clear that he felt the need to. His irate explanation reminded Tala of a small child trying to tell her something but couldn't figure out how to explain it further whenever she asked questions and would just get frustrated instead. It was adorable when it was a toddler; it was annoying when it was an aged ecclesiastic. Though in a way, she brought it upon herself by asking that last question.

'Clearly this Prophet believes that this long-dead Ayleid king has returned.' She thought to herself. 'I suppose this theory is not impossible to believe. I guess I need to accept that this will be the only information I will be getting and continue forth.' She then said aloud, "I understand. So how do we stop Umaril?"

The Prophet let out a sigh. "Alas, Umaril cannot be stopped... not without the aid of the Gods... not without the Crusader's Relics. Without a champion, the Gods are powerless to act. But... who among us is worthy to wield the Divine Crusader's weaponry?"

Tala remained silent as she scanned the cluster of civilians that surrounded her. Those witnessing the conversation consisted of commoners for the most part, but a few other members of the Fighters Guild and another guard stood a few paces back... yet no one seemed brave enough to speak up. She knew they were waiting for her to say something... and for once, she didn't want to. A small part of her felt obligated to, but no instincts told her to jump in and help. And after spending a lot of time dealing with hassles at home and with the Fighters Guild, she had no interest in adding one more task to her already busy life.

Finally, they heard a loud declaration from someone behind the crowd, "I will quest for the relics!"

A hushed murmur fell over the crowd as it parted for the person who volunteered. He was an older Imperial with a balding head of dark-blond hair and dressed in Daedric armor. Behind him was a young Redguard man wearing a green tunic under a tan shirt, and equipped with a steel shortsword on his back while he carried a sheathed steel claymore in his arms.

'Who are they?' Tala wondered.

"You would quest for the holy panoply of Pelinal Whitestrake?" The Prophet curiously said. "The legendary relics that have been sought by mighty warriors throughout the ages? Tell me... are you a worthy knight?"

"Yes." The man boldly stated. "I am a worthy knight! For I am Sir Roderic of Wayrest!"

As the gathering whispered their awe, the old preacher merely flashed a half-hearted smirk. "Then I'm sure you will have no trouble finding the Relics on your own. You clearly need no aid from man or god. Why do you come to me for aid, worthy knight?"

"I am here in answer to your call, Prophet!" Sir Roderic spoke in an orotund tone. "My services as a hired sword have led me to Anvil, and I heard what happened in the Chapel from the guards posted at the gates. I heard your speech just now and I realized why the Gods have brought me here on this day! Clearly I am meant to be their Champion! I am now asking for your guidance."

"If you are indeed a worthy knight, it is not my guidance you need to seek." The Prophet bluntly responded. "Good luck to you on your pilgrimage."

Initially, Roderic stared in stunned silence. But eventually he smiled and let an amused chuckle rumble in the back of his throat. "Pilgrimage, eh? Then so be it. Come, Lathon! The Pilgrimage of the Wayshrines shall be my only purpose now."

He then turned on his heels and headed for the gates out of the city, with the young Redguard trailing briskly behind him.

"Tala, what about you?" They all heard from the back of the crowd. Tala turned to see that the voice belonged to Rhano- her fellow Fighters Guild comrade. He stood beside Vigdis and the guards as they observed the spectacle from a distance.

"What about me?" Tala asked.

"Perhaps you could help find the relics?" Rhano said.

"Yes, of course she could!" Came the voice of Enilroth, the apprentice blacksmith at Moravyn's Peacemakers. This sparked more enthusiastic murmurs throughout the group of spectators.

"So... the people choose someone as a candidate..." The Prophet curiously commented aloud, prompting Tala to focus her attention on him once again. "But what about you? A you a worthy knight?"

"Of course she is!" Vigdis cried out. "She's the Hero of Kvatch! Champion of Cyrodiil! She defeated Mehrunes Dagon and helped close the Oblivion Gates!"

The old Imperial let his eyes grow slightly wide, but the rest of his face seemed disinterested. "Really? Well, never let anyone forget it, Champion! I salute you. This small matter of the Crusader's Relics should be a trifle for a legend such as yourself."

Tala merely stared at him with a saddened frown. She really loathed when people kept doing this to her. Just because she had such an honorable title- one she felt she didn't deserve- it didn't mean she was deemed worthy of leading a holy crusade. All their praising did was dredge up the trauma and depression she had struggled with all those years ago. She may have helped close Oblivion Gates, but she certainly did not defeat Mehrunes Dagon. All she did was helplessly watch as the real hero of the Oblivion Crisis sacrificed himself to save their world. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time to claim the title in his stead. In her mind, that title gave her rights to nothing.

There was a heavy weighted pause before she turned her head to stare at the crowd. "I thank you for your confidence in me... but just because I hold the title of Champion, it does not make me a worthy knight." She morosely replied. While the crowd fell back into low whispers, she added, "I'm sorry, but I do not feel as if I hold any claim to fame deserving of this task. A worthy knight will reveal himself when the time is right."

The congregated group then fell deafly silent as they awkwardly and slowly dispersed, returning to their normal lives. After Tala waited for the people to leave, she turned to bid farewell to the Prophet. But she spoke no words when she saw him staring at her with a subtle smile on his lips.

"A humble heart is a good starting point." He suddenly said. "But the Gods will decide if you are worthy to seek the Relics."

Sapphire eyes blinked long and slow while she held her unconfident stare. "I don't feel as if it is my place to be Nirn's champion for a second time." She sullenly remarked. "Would the Gods really put their faith in someone who is always being fed courage she doesn't deserve?"

"Perhaps... perhaps not. What men value is not always what the Gods look for in a champion."

Tala remained quiet for a moment as she gave it some thought. After a minute or so, she slowly asked, "Suppose you're right... if I were the worthy knight they seek... where would I even begin my journey to discover that answer?"

The subtle smile he was wearing gradually grew wider as he answered. "The Gods grant insight to those they deem worthy. Why and how they act is not predictable. What I can tell you is that traditionally, knights who wished to quest for the Relics would walk the Pilgrim's Way. Travel to the Wayshrines of the Nine Divines. Pray to each of the Gods in turn, and ask their favor upon your quest. If the Gods deem you worthy, you will be granted a sign."

Tala suddenly stared right through the Prophet as she realized what he was saying... as well as realized that Sir Roderic knew it without an explanation. "Of course." She softly said. "It would make sense to call upon them at their blessed sights." Her eyes then fell downcast as her doubt returned. "I... I'm still not sure if I am the Champion of the Gods. I... still don't feel like I deserve the title of Champion of the People."

"That is not your choice to make, my dear. That is for the Gods to decide."

He then stepped away from the stone canopy to hand her a rolled parchment. As she carefully took it, the Prophet patted her sweetly on the hand. The gesture very much reminded Tala of her mother whenever she had been trying to comfort a lost soul at their chapel back home. It was a simple little thing that- for some reason- made Tala feel less hopeless and without worth.

"Go forth." The Prophet said. "May the Eight and One guide your steps."

Tala politely smiled and gave him a single nod in acknowledgment to his blessing before turning back towards the city gates. From there, she grabbed Lily from the stables and departed down the road for home.

On her journey, she made a point to unroll the parchment and inspect its contents. She was mildly surprised to see that it was a map pointing out at least one of each of the Nine's wayshrines located across Cyrodiil. Coincidentally, one of Arkay's and Mara's wayshrines were on her route back home, and one dedicated to Dibella was actually located not too far from the homestead.

'That one must be the wayshrine that sits over by the pasture.' Tala thought.

It almost seemed too easy to start the pilgrimage from where she was. But the question remained: did she want to walk the Pilgrim's Way and find out if she was indeed the worthy knight? Like her struggle with the katana, she warred with herself over whether she should stop and pray to the wayshrines and walk this path of guidance. And when she reached the turning point at the Brina Cross Inn, she stopped on the road and continued to debate with herself on whether she should veer off the road and head for the first wayshrine, or just continue along and head back towards Chorrol.

In the end, the desire to go home became stronger than her interest in taking the pilgrimage. She then rolled the map back up and put it in her satchel as she gently tapped her heels against her horse and asked for a walk straight on down the road. This whole 'worthy knight' thing would have to wait. If the Gods really did want her to walk this path, they'd show her another sign in another time.

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A/N 12-1-21: Well, here's the next chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed! It was a rough month for me and consequently I did not get time or mental stability to work on the story (luckily I have a few chapters already done so no hiatuses coming anytime soon). But I want to give my gratitude once more for those who have been enjoying this "slow burning" plotline as well as slow releasing chapters. Your support means the world to me and is another reason why I continue working on it! Like I've said before, Tala's story has become a passion and a form of catharsis for me when I've had tough moments in my life, and even when I cannot work on the actual writing of chapters, her story(ies) have always been in my mind, playing itself out and helping me get through the day. So I appreciate it when I see that someone still enjoys my silly little story and provides feedback when needed. So thank you all again!