Chapter Fifteen: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Lucien Lachance eyed the city of Leyawiin with obvious distaste, his lips slightly pursed and eyes narrowed. The sun was finishing its descent, only the last golden rays remaining to shine out over the mountain peaks. But at least he could see the sun, he thought ruefully- this was his first visit to Leyawiin where the weather had been completely free of rain.

Lucien’s pace was swift as he made his way toward the city gate, his stride determined and resolute; and his mind was working in such the same manner. He had much to ponder on, for he brought information of events that would alter the course of Dark Brotherhood’s history… and, it seemed, not in a necessarily positive way.

When he had received word to meet with Ungolim, Lucien knew it could not bode well for himself. He had been right, in a sense- only the truth had turned out far worse then anything he could have anticipated. But then again, he mused; he should have expected this outcome. It was reasonable, in the circumstances, to choose this course of action- if you were a rash, foolish man. Which was the very core of Ungolim’s being, Lucien thought with a sneer.

Ever since Ungolim had risen into power, he had made a great many changes in the manner in which the Brotherhood was run- and a most notable change was that any form of ceremonial meeting between the Black Hand had been completely eradicated. Instead, everything was now handled by courier and letter.

Since the Brotherhood had been formed, there had always been assemblies that took place under the greatest secrecy between the Black Hand- for they were the organization’s ruling body, and decisions were made after each and every member’s opinion had been heard, with the Listener’s word being the final. Now, however, Ungolim had removed any chance of his own decisions being contested by disbanding these meetings, for the Black Hand would now receive news only through letters.

These letters typically bore most grievous news, often of the newest and most recent nonsensical scheme that Ungolim had concocted and carried out, without the advice or permission of the Black Hand. And yet most agreed that the Listener was simply a cautious man, and that his actions showed he only wished to keep the integrity of the Black Hand intact.

However, a select few (such as Lucien) realized the complete truth of the matter, and it was thus; Ungolim was a fool. He was not worthy of the position of Listener, and he himself realized that. Yet he was power hungry, and did not wish to lose his position because of incompetence. So he rarely allowed anyone from the Brotherhood to speak with him directly, except for his lackey Alval- the Apprentice of the Listener. Most of the decisions Ungolim came to were absolutely ridiculous, but because the Black Hand was not permitted to meet anymore nothing could be done about it. And that was exactly the case with Lucien’s orders presently.

The meeting had been everything Lucien had dreaded it to be, and far worse. After Ungolim had shared his plans, Lucien had been nearly stunned into silence by their rashness, their severity. But not for long was he quiet, for he knew this opportunity to argue his opinion would not arise again.

He had tried to reason with the Bosmer, tried to make him realize that there were other options that could be carried out before taking such drastic measures- that there were other leads that could be followed. But no, he would not listen to such rationale. Ungolim felt he could do whatever he pleased, and damn everyone else’s thoughts or opinions. And unfortunately, this was quite true. Ungolim (for whatever unknown reason) was Lucien’s superior, the Listener of the Black Hand- and that meant Lucien had to follow his orders, no matter how completely unreasonable and utterly ridiculous they were.

And now Lucien had been sent by Ungolim like a common courier to inform Alval Uvani of the situation. The apprentice traveled all throughout province of Cyrodiil under the guise of a merchant, making weekly trips to all of the members of the Black Hand. This meant that the Black Hand would get an almost weekly update of the going-on’s of the Listener’s decisions. However, this week, Ungolim had informed Lucien that he (the Listener) would be going to Morrowind to meet with their sectors there. As a result, Lucien would have the lovely task of informing Alval of the news as soon as possible, by riding down to Leyawiin and catching the apprentice before he left for Bravil.

Lucien carried with him a satchel, filled with the letters Ungolim had prepared for each member of the Black Hand to receive. At least Lucien had only been given the task to give these letters to Alval to deliver, and he himself would not have to do so. Yet even this was trying his patience; the Listener had known he could have sent a courier to do this task, but sent Lucien instead, as an insult to his worth and abilities.

Lucien’s expression was taut and his eyes hard as he brooded over the situation, his pace slowing as he approached the city wall. He had left his steed about an eight-mile up the road, as she was an easily distinguishable creature and he would rather she was not sighted near the city.

His expression became even sourer as he slipped into the Leyawiin city gates, glaring distastefully down at his muddied boots, his black hood pulled far over his face. But there was no need for this disguise, for the streets seemed to be deserted. The sun had all but disappeared behind the mountains now, and the air was cool and dark. He walked cautiously down the muddied road, his footsteps soft and silent.

He was heading towards the home of Alval Uvani, on the opposite end of town. He placed a hand on the satchel of letters at his side, and was smiling darkly at the thought of forcing them down Ungolim’s throat when he heard something up ahead of him, causing his musings to come to an abrupt halt. In a flash he darted into the alley between the church and a cottage, pressing his back against the slick stone. There was silence, and then he heard it again. Lucien slowly tilted his head around the corner, looking down the road toward the source of the sound.

He could see nothing in the darkness, but he knew there was a pool of water ahead, surrounded by a cluster of cottages. He was quite certain the sound he heard was splashing, and when it rang out again he breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was merely someone out for a nighttime swim. He leaned forward, pushing himself gracefully form the wall, and started to head back into the central street.

He had taken barely two steps before he had darted back into the shadows, for he had heard another startling sound- only this time much closer. He need only search for a moment before sighting the source. Across the street, at the establishment called the Five Claws Lodge, the shutters of a window lay open, clanging against the wall with the breeze. He could make out the faint silhouette of someone poking their head out, checking up and down the street. And then, to Lucien’s utter astonishment (and a bit of amusement), the person disappeared for a moment back into the room, and seconds later instead of a head popping out, someone stuck their leg through the window.

Lucien watched as the person (who he could now tell was a woman, because of the skirt she was wearing) pushed the other leg out of the window, followed by her body. He shirted closer the edge of the building he was concealed behind, watching as the woman quickly adjusted her clothes and looked about warily. He could tell, as if with a sixth sense, or perhaps recognition in how he himself acted, that this person was about to commit a crime… or just had.

Lucien could not make out the face of the figure in the shade; all he could glimpse was long ponytail of straight, jet black hair, and pale, alabaster skin. The woman was of average height, and had a slim, light frame. From what Lucien had seen of her legs whilst she was climbing out the window, they had been toned and muscular, like that of one who spends much time outdoors or traveling. As she started to walk down the street, towards where Lucien was concealed in the alley, he could see that her steps were calculated and silent- so she was a thief, or a murderer, Lucien concluded.

And as she brushed past the alleyway in which he still stood, she seemed to sense his presence, as she turned her head slightly in his direction, her frame becoming stiff and wary. A ray of moonlight shone down upon her, and Lucien got a clear view of the woman’s face. The recognition nearly physically staggered him as her eyes met his. Those chilling, blue eyes…

One could not forget those eyes, and Lucien certainly had not. Adrienne… the woman with no last name, whom he had welcomed into the Sanctuary just under a year ago. He still remembered his first meeting with her, when he visited her while she slept in the house of the very woman she had just mercilessly slain. He remembered when she had opened her eyes after he had awakened her, that even in the darkness they stood out. Such a piercing blue, such a sharp and steady gaze… the eyes of a born killer.

He felt a shiver run involuntarily down his spine at her stare, and his breath caught up in his throat as he felt the breeze from her walking past, and he inhaled her scent; it was something like Nightshade, his favorite flower. She seemed not to notice him in the darkness, even though he could swear she looked right into him. He breathed out a sigh once she had made her quiet way further down the street, and he chanced a look out. She was heading straight for the pool in which he had heard splashing, and as she drew closer she slowed her steps.

She seemed to spot the person in the pool, and dropped down into a crouch, her body becoming still as a wolf stalking its prey. And as she did this, Lucien was hit with a sudden wave of dawning realization.

“Of course…” he murmured, letting out a soft breath of silent laughter. He should have understood the situation immediately- but then again, he reasoned with himself, his mind was already filled with other consuming matters. So Adrienne was here to kill the Imperial scum, Adamus Phillida… and that must be him, there in the pool.

His lips were upturned at the corners as Lucien watched, entranced, as Adrienne reached over her shoulder and drew her bow, gripping it firmly but almost tenderly, followed by a long shafted arrow, still slightly moist from the rain days before. She slipped silently between a row of houses to her left, slinking off into the darkness along the city wall. She rounded a corner and disappeared from Lucien’s view.

Lucien let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding; he had become caught up in the thrill of the hunt, the ecstasy of a slow and steady stalking of the prey. He had to keep watching, he had to keep going- he could not stop now.

He carefully made his way from the hiding spot behind the church and glided over to an alley facing the pool, pressing himself against the wall. He started to search for Adrienne again, his very soul reaching out to join her in her hunt. It only took a moment of carefully scanning the shadows of the castle wall for him to spot Adrienne, her dark form blending in with the shade so that she was nearly invisible to those without a trained eye.

He admired his fellow Dark Brotherhood member as she pulled closer to the pool, her steps all carefully controlled; and yet, Lucien could see through all of this. He could feel her lust for the kill, could sense her need for blood, how she craved for the high, the ecstasy of taking life from another… for he knew and understood this feeling all too well. It was a feeling he was right now sharing with her, whether she knew it or not.

Adrienne had pulled in close to the pool now, cautiously manipulating the shadows to stay hidden. He could almost feel her heart beating hard within her chest, for his was now as well. The thrill was rising within them as the prey remained unaware of the danger it was in.

Lucien’s eyes were wide and his expression almost hungry, carnal, as he watched Adrienne’s eyes light up as his were, the moonlight reflecting off of her eager face. She too was caught up in the moment, for nothing else seemed to matter, just the target at hand, what they both were longing so deeply for.

His breath caught up in his chest as she made a misstep, causing a stone to tumble into the pool with a very clear splash. She froze, as did Lucien, muscles perfectly still, not breathing, as Adamus stopped mid-stroke, straightening his back and listening intently. Time seemed to suspend itself as Lucien watched on, eyes never leaving the scene before him, the tension almost unbearable. After a moment that lasted immeasurably, Phillida appeared to disregard the noise and continued his leisurely swim.

Lucien let out a silent sigh, echoing Adrienne’s own as her shoulders sunk down and their bodies’ released some of the stress. But it was right back to the hunt, and he felt the now familiar rush flowing through his veins, a building of such powerful tension that it was barely restrained. But they must contain it; they must, for when the release came, the kill, it would be all the more powerful.

Watching on, Lucien saw Adrienne positioning herself behind a large boulder, gripping her bow with white-knuckled fingers. He felt her attempts to keep her breaths long and steady, but it was no use. Their breathing started to come in short, shuddering gasps of barely contained lust. He fervently wished that he was beside her, about to aid in the kill, his hands upon the weapon preparing to fire!

She was fitting the Rose of Sithis into the bow, slowly sliding her hand along its shaft as she drew it back carefully. Lucien could not have looked away if he wished. All he had, all he felt, was with the scene before him.

The arrow was pulled back to its furthest point, Adrienne holding it as steady as she could. He felt a thrill rise up from within his soul, holding his breath and his heart racing, nearly bursting from anticipation- he watched her, sensing the same feelings with her. It was an almost electrical stimulation, one that was building and straining until the very second of the kill, the only time it could be released… it wouldn’t be long now, they couldn’t hold it all in much longer…

In that as second, as she took her final aim with the Rose, she leaned her head back and the moonlight suddenly illuminated her face. Her features were still, no expression, not even the slightest upturn of her lips. Yet her eyes; her bright, glowing eyes… he had seen her before, but never like this. She looked so… alive. And he knew that if someone had been watching him at this moment, they would say the same of him. Finally, in unison they took one last deep, shuddering breath, eyes sparkling maliciously and hearts soaring as one, as Adrienne slid her fingers off the shaft of the arrow, in a second that seemed to last eternally.

Time slowed as they watched the arrow glide gracefully towards its target. The tension was all but unbearable; they felt the familiar rush and wave of desire rush throughout their bodies… it was coming, soon now. They had passed the point of no return. As though in a dream, all they felt, all they were, was with that arrow, waiting to penetrate the flesh.

And after an agonizingly long moment, the arrow pierced through Adamus Phillida’s throat with a satisfying “thunk”.

The release! Oh at last, the glorious, blessed release! Their bodies exploded as one, eyes closed in the final moment, only able to recognize the inexplicable feelings coursing through their bodies, from their very souls. The stalking of the prey, the preparation of the strike- this had been a build up to this final moment, the moment of the kill, of the release. There was little that could surpass the feelings engulfing the pair of them at that moment.

A period of hard breathing and vague awakening of the senses, eyes fluttering and smile upon their faces followed. Gradually, with a slow spreading warmth, they began to have full control of their bodies once again. Their breath was still coming in short pants, as though they had been running a marathon, adrenaline rushing. The after-effects of the kill were still tingling throughout their veins, and it left a suspended state of elation that neither could shake.

After a moment, Adrienne stirred herself and started to wade into the pool, her eyes still aflame from the kill. Lucien watched her intently, wondering what her intentions were, his chest still heaving as he breathed in hard. She flipped over the body, lifting his arm up- Lucien then remembered the second part of the contract, to bring the finger to the Imperial City- but suddenly she stopped, dropping the arm back into the water. Her body was unmoving, stiff, and her expression was perfectly still. Only her eyes betrayed any emotion- the normal icy blue now turned to an almost stormy gray, as though her inner self was in conflict.

He watched on, his expression bewildered as she stood in silence for near a minute. He wondered at first if she felt some guilt, some remorse over the act; but no, he thought. Something completely unexpected, something that she had not anticipated had just happened, Lucien decided. All of a sudden, he heard something that made his heart stand still.

Slurred voices, the sound of armor grating together, of clanking boots- the unmistakable alarm of the approach of guards… yet Adrienne still sat unmoving, her eyes fixed upon the face of the man before her. What in the name of Sithis was she doing? Didn’t she hear the guards approaching? What was so interesting about that old fetcher’s face? Lucien thought, frustrated beyond belief.

He closed his eyes, releasing a deep, exasperated and foreboding breath when the guards stopped in their tracks as they spotted Adrienne, who had looked up a split second before. There was an instant of silence as the guard’s took in the scene before them, but it was over quickly and they started to shout and wave their arms, for they had no weapons. Immediately she started to sprint out of the pond, heading up towards the road- but the guards were going around, intending to cut her off. She quickly realized this and veered her course. Lucien’s eyes widened as she saw where she was headed- straight at his alley, straight at him.

He was starting to back away, so she could move through the alley without running right into him, when he heard a resounding crack, followed in quick succession by another. He saw it in the way that Adrienne’s eyes widened that they were throwing something, probably pebbles or rocks by the sound of it, at her. He realized he wouldn’t have time to move, she was coming at him too fast…

And then, just as she was about to enter the alley, Lucien’s gaze focused upon her face. He did not think she could see him yet, but she would any second. All was silent as he gazed into her now fearful eyes; he didn’t hear the shouts of the guards, he didn’t feel the moist air around him, he didn’t hear the footsteps…

But this moment was shattered when her head suddenly jerked violently to the left, her eyelids crushing shut in pain. Adrienne fell to the ground, right at Lucien’s feet. She was unconscious.

He was stunned for no more then a second, at which then he realized he could either save her, or leave her to her fate.

Lucien’s mind was racing- what in the name of Sithis was he supposed to do now? She had made a mistake, she had stood there like a fool, staring at the dead body, and been caught unawares when the guard came. She should have to face a fate befit of her actions. Yet she had executed the man perfectly, finally completing what three other Dark Brotherhood members had attempted. Albeit she did have an easier job of it, because Phillida was now retired, but still… she was valuable to the Brotherhood, and may become even more so in the near future. Her contracts before this had been flawless. Ocheeva always spoke highly of her abilities, along with her mental state. She was strong, she was skilled, and she was important.

Yes, that’s why. She was needed for the guild. He would save her because of the Brotherhood’s need for her. Satisfied with his reasoning, Lucien bent down and scooped up Adrienne’s light frame without another instant’s hesitation, and cast an invisibility spell on the both of them.

He was at the city gate before the guard’s had started to search the alley where her body had lain, balancing Adrienne over his right shoulder. She was no heavy load, and he was not slowed down much by her weight. He was to the place he had left his horse, Shadowmere, in a few moments.

As Lucien hoisted Adrienne up onto the steed, a piece of parchment fluttered out from the folds of her skirt. It seemed as though it had been folded and unfolded many times, and by the coloration looked as though it had seen better days. It landed next to a small puddle in the slightly muddy ground, a corner instantly saturated.

Lucien bent down swiftly and scooped it from the ground, wiping the dirt and droplet of water with a black gloved hand. His eyes darted to Adrienne’s unconscious form, slumped over the neck of his dark steed, and back to the parchment. He couldn’t deny his curiosity, for this piece of paper obviously held some importance to the girl if she kept it on her person, and it seemed very old because of its condition…

After sending one last furtive glance at Adrienne, and a quick look down the road, Lucien carefully peeled apart the edges of the parchment with lean and steady fingers, wary of tearing the fragile material. It was a long bit of parchment, and was filled with writing. He scanned it, quickly bored when he realized it was a letter to a gift giving service, requesting presents for the writer’s children. He was bewildered- Adrienne did not have a family, or children… or could she?

But as he skipped to the end of the letter, to the signature at the bottom- he then understood. It was signed “Perennia Draconis”- the woman who Adrienne had murdered up in the little cottage up North. She had carried this with her, since the day she murdered her? Adrienne carried this letter on her person? Was this a sign of weakness, of guilt? Or was it something else; a reminder, or a comfort?

He thought once again of her hesitation, her moment of weakness after the killing of Phillida- there was no denying she had enjoyed the kill, that had been quite evident. Yet she had stared into the man’s face and been engrossed in thought, so much so that she had been caught completely unawares by the guards. Could she really have felt guilt, even after killing for so long? Lucien did not think this was the case, although it would be the most straightforward explanation.

There were those who looked at killing as simply a profession, a way to earn money; some who killed for the feeling of being completely in control, of playing god; some who killed on impulse, without control or thought- but most had something in common- they killed without emotional attachment. Lucien had found, however, that those who murdered with passion, with emotion- they could be just as effective. He thought of killing as an art, each death a masterpiece on the great canvas created by Sithis, and his Night Mother. He could not help how he felt, it was just what he believed, what he was. And he was starting to wonder if Adrienne was the same.

Now pensive, Lucien carefully folded the letter up again and slid it into the folds of Adrienne’s dress, patting it into place- and he could not help but note the firmness of her leg muscle as he did so. He was still for a moment, his hand upon her leg, before he suddenly turned about, looked down the ominously misty road, and pulled his black hood far over his face. He hopped lightly onto Shadowmere’s high back, reining her in and turning the horse about, keeping Adrienne balanced between his arms.

The black mare reared, pranced in place a bit, before setting off in full gallop, heading East around the city of Leyawiin. Lucien leaned far over the horse’s back, holding firmly Adrienne against his chest. He reckoned this horse was the fastest in Cyrodiil, and that was no light claim. At this rate, they would be in Cheydinhaal in less than five hours. Lucien was bringing her back the Sanctuary- he felt that she needed to be taken far away from the crime, and the most obvious safe place for her was the Sanctuary. And, part of him did wish to visit the Sanctuary, for reasons he would never admit too.

And so he sped off into the night; his dark eyes gleaming as the wind blew his hood back and his freed hair whipped back in the breeze, with arms tight around the limp form of Adrienne.

 

* * *

Four and a half hours later Lucien brought Shadowmere to a halt outside the back gate into Cheydinhaal. He swiftly slid from the horse’s back, robes billowing in the midnight breeze, and slipped Adrienne off into his arms. Balancing her carefully, he gave Shadowmere a whack on the rump and watched as the horse ran up a trail to the West. He turned about quickly, his hood still hanging loosely at his shoulders, and slipped into the city, making his way to the Abandoned House as swiftly and silently as he could. He slipped between shadow and shade, dodging the eyes of the patrolling guardsmen.

Lucien opened the door to the Abandoned House awkwardly, straining not to drop Adrienne as he stepped into the thin door frame sideways, her feet bumping roughly against the stone. He stopped in his tracks, holding his breath as she gave a little moan and shifted her muscles- but he let out a relieved sigh when she did not wake.

He descended the stairs into the basement quickly, and shuffled through narrow tunnel leading to the door. He hastily uttered the password, not letting the door finish its words before he shoved it open roughly and strode to his right. It was very late at night, and he fervently hoped that all of the Sanctuary’s members were asleep in their beds…

Lucien walked softly down the corridor into the Living Quarters, his feet treading gently upon the stone floors. There was a sudden noise that sounded almost like an explosion, causing Lucien to nearly drop Adrienne in alarm- but as he stood dead still, leaning against the wall of the corridor, the sound came again seconds later… and again… and he grinned ruefully to himself. It was simply someone snoring- and by the sounds of it, the only one who could create such a ruckus would be Gogron Gro-Bolmog.

When he finally came to the room, he found that three of the beds were filled- and by the shape and size of the lumps he could deduce that they were Gogron, M’raaj Dar, and Antoinetta. They all seemed to be sleeping soundly, despite the absurd volume of Gogron’s snores.

Lucien went to the bed next to the smallest lump of covers, which he now knew for certain was Antoinetta because of the mess of blond hair poking out from above the rim of the blanket. He laid Adrienne down tenderly on the mattress, pulling aside the covers and placing her beneath them. Had he been concentrating more on his surroundings and less on ensuring Adrienne’s comfort, he may have noticed two eyes snap open behind him, watching him intently as he leaned over Adrienne’s motionless form.

Lucien swept a stray hair from Adrienne’s forehead with his thumb, cupping her face with his hands. After a moment, he leaned down and pressed his lips softly against her forehead. He pulled up quickly, but hovered inches above her face, and murmured: “Blessings of the Night Mother, my dear Child,” before standing straight again.

He did not see as the eyes behind him narrowed, or the white-knuckled fist that clenched a fold of blanket in response to his actions. Lucien walked to the center of the room and paused; a flood of memories hit him quite suddenly, and most unexpectedly. He remembered the times he spent in this room, when he was no more then a Murderer for the Dark Brotherhood… he remembered those who he had spent his time with, his fellow assassins... most were dead now, lost during contracts. An assassin should expect such things, but it would take a lot before one would become used to them. And, as he had learned, there was no use thinking of such things, for you could do nothing to change them.

As Lucien stirred himself from such foolish meditations, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. There were two pairs of feet, he decided- and they sounded very much alike in gait and step… and Lucien recognized the walks, out of familiarity. Ocheeva and Teinaava were approaching, and he was cornered. It wasn’t that he feared them, or that he had any reason not to see them, Lucien reasoned. It was just that their knowing of his deed could complicate things. That’s all he cared for, he convinced himself.

But there was not anything he could do now, except face the twin Shadowscales. He could hear that they were talking in low voices, but their tone was excited. Lucien continued to walk, meeting them in the doorway to the Living Quarters. They did not seem surprised to see him, for they had both probably heard his approach as he had heard their’s.

“Dearest Speaker! It is an honor to have you among us- tell me, have you come to celebrate the news of Phillida’s demise?” Teinaava exclaimed, affectionately clapping Lucien on the shoulder.

“How do you know of Phillida’s death?” he asked sharply.
Teinaava looked taken aback at his tone, but Ocheeva answered smoothly.

“I felt my heart soar with Sithis’ love the moment the pig drew his last breath. And it seems, by your reaction, that I am not wrong…” she trailed off, gazing at Lucien expectantly. Teinaava, however, was looking around Lucien, at the bed where Adrienne lay. Lucien did not answer Ocheeva, but watched as Teinaava recognized the bed’s occupant.

“Adrienne! She’s back! But how…” but Teinaava too trailed off. He raised his eyes slowly to Lucien, and then darted back to Adrienne, and to Lucien again. The unmistakable signs of dawning comprehension appeared on his face, and Lucien gave a silent sigh. Ocheeva sensed there was something she was missing, and followed her brother’s eyes from the bed and to Lucien. They both started at him, their eyes perplexed, but in the same sense an understanding within them. Lucien knew he had to say something.

“I brought her here to keep her safe- I’m sure she will fill you in on the details. One thing before I depart however; do not tell her it was I that brought her here. If she asks, as I’m sure she will, simply inform her that a Brotherhood courier was responsible, or any other suitable story you can think of.”

There was a silence, in which both Ocheeva and Teinaava nodded their heads obediently- but Teinaava was fidgeting, and Lucien knew he wished to speak.

“But won’t she know it was you? Won’t it be rather obvious?” he blurted out. Ocheeva sent him a dark look, and then turned to Lucien apologetically. Lucien’s expression turned hard at the question, but his tone was even when he replied.

“She was not aware of my presence, so no Teinaava, it will not be obvious; quite the opposite, really…”

At these words, Teinaava looked at Lucien with such a maddening sense of understanding that Lucien felt a sudden fiery anger ignite within him- the Argonian’s expression was one of a parent who understood the dilemma of their child, but could only watch and let the child learn for themselves what the outcome would be. He, Lucien, was no child, and there was nothing in this situation that should illicit such a reaction. The Argonian didn’t know what was going on, as much as he may think he did… for there was nothing going on!

Yet Lucien kept his expression neutral, knowing from experience that there was no use arguing with the pair, once they had made their minds up about something. He instead pretended to ignore the implications of Teinaava’s look, and spoke again in a more business-like tone.

“Now I really must be going, I have important business to attend to this night, and I’m behind schedule already…” Teinaava’s face fell as Lucien nodded to the two and started to walk away; the Shadowscale’s expression seemed almost disappointed, as though he felt pity… but then a sound came from behind them.

All three turned to find Antoinetta sitting up in her bed, putting on a great show of yawning and stretching, before drowsily speaking.

“What’s going on?” She asked, looking at the group of them. She then dramatically widened her eyes and tilted her head. “Speaker! What a surprise! Tell me, what brings you here?”

Lucien ground his teeth; if he wanted to reach Alval before the Dunmer left for Bravil, he would have to leave now. He had not wanted to be seen by any of the member’s of the Sanctuary, yet now here he stood with three of them waiting to hear the story of Phillida’s demise, and his explanation for being at the Sanctuary. He did not wish what could be his last meeting with them to be ended harshly, but he really needed to be going…

Antoinetta had climbed out of her bed and was making her way to the group, her eyes set eagerly upon Lachance. He knew he had to extricate himself now, or be stuck with the woman’s incessant chattering for hours.

“Teinaava and Ocheeva will explain. And now I really must go- Night Mother be with you all, in this life and the next” Lucien said briskly, and he swiveled on his heel, marching up the corridor with long strides before any of the three could reply.

If he had waited just a moment, he would have seen the crestfallen face of Antoinetta turn to one of resentment and bitterness, her eyes narrowed and lips tight. And then he might have noticed how Teinaava and Ocheeva exchanged ominous looks.

Things that had been brewing long beneath the surface were starting to emerge, and that strain would only make the outcome more explosive when finally unveiled. Dark times lay ahead, even darker then Ocheeva, Teinaava, or even Adrienne could conceive… and they were fast approaching.

Chapter Sixteen: The Calm Before the Storm

Dark. Everything was black- I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing... An eternity could seem to pass in the span of seconds, while hours felt like mere moments.

Disorientation. Bewilderment. Nothing made sense. All was a shadowy and dim, with only a flicker of faint light in the distance. I was vaguely aware of my existence in a dark place- and that was all. Everything else was gone, everyone else lifeless and decaying. I was alone.

But suddenly, after what seemed many lifetimes, out of the darkness came the echoing sounds of mirth; of chuckling, snorting laughter.

In a flash of brilliant color, of blinding radiance, everything turned pure and white. I could hear clearly, but still nothing could be seen.

“Remember... remember Ungeval?” More laughter.

“That stupid fetcher, we all knew he was a sorry excuse for an assassin… How the hell he got into the Brotherhood, I’ll never know…” As I listened my hearing became clearer, and with the high pitched Elven voice came the threads of familiarity.

“But by Sithis, we made our feelings for him well known!”

“We were rather cruel… I can’t say that I blame him for trying to prove his worth to us…” came a hissing, gravelly tone; unmistakably an Argonian. I knew that I recognized this voice as well, yet my mind could not connect a face.

“Oh come on, you can’t feel bad for something as pathetic as that vermin was!”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. I feel no pity- only understanding,” was the smooth, patient reply.

A silence followed, and with it I felt a rising alarm, as though I was plunging into the darkness again- but it was broken before my descent was complete.

“Well I feel no… understanding for the bloke. He was a fool, and deserved the fate that befell him.” This voice was a deep, booming sound, most unlike the other two. I recognized it as well, but still could not put a face to it.

“Have you ever even heard the entire story?” asked the Argonian. “No? Well, Ocheeva explained it to me, and I must admit it is rather amusing…” He hissed. “Well you know Ungeval went to the Imperial City, aiming to kill Phillida. Except when he arrived there, he must have realized that he had no idea where to find the bastard. So he of course decided to start asking around… but here’s the catch- he started asking the guards where to find him!”

“By Sithis!” exclaimed the Elven voice, while the other boomed with a thunderous laughter. The Argonian chuckled before continuing.

“I promise you, it’s gets better- so naturally the guards were suspicious of his motives for finding Phillida, and it soon got round that some fool Bosmer was looking to assassinate him. Instead of simply arresting him, the guards decided to have a bit of fun. One of them told Ungeval to seek out Phillida’s good friend, who would always know his whereabouts… but here’s the catch- it was really Phillida himself they showed him too, who had been told of the situation and plan beforehand!”

All three voices joined in equally malicious laughter.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with it!” cried out the deep voice throatily. “Ha-ha, well, Ungeval approaches Phillida in the Market District, still unaware of his true identity. Phillida inquires, calm as you please, as to why he, Ungeval, would wish to know the location of such a man. Ungeval replies ‘Are you fond of Adamus?’ (Even though he was just told it was his best friend) Phillida says that he’s not fond of him, quite the opposite really, and so the fetcher Ungeval outright admits that he plans to assassinate him!”

“I can’t believe that I am still surprised at this behavior from him…”

“Wait, wait, there’s more- Phillida then goes on as if to point himself out somewhere behind Ungeval, who of course turns about eagerly- and the Imperial pig casually chops the Bosmer’s head off! Plus, they were standing at the edge of those bathing pools, so the body fell straight into the pool- and Phillida left it there for a week, to show what happens to those that try and kill him!”

As the three voices descended into booming laugher again, my eyes snapped open and the light flooded in, temporarily blinding me. My gaze darted around for several moments as I tried to place my surroundings- the stone ceiling above me, the soft mattress beneath me, the thick wool blankets enveloping me- before I understood where I was. The Sanctuary, in Cheydinhal… and suddenly I could recall the faces of those I heard laughing- Gogron, Telaendril and Teinaava!

I rolled over onto my side and faced towards the noise, but instantly regretted it when my head started to throb relentlessly. I winced in agony, trying to close out wave after wave of pain that flooded my skull. After a calming moment, in which the aching within my head started to subside, I opened my eyes once more.

The laughter had started to die away, and Telaendril (whose face was the only one I could see) was wiping her eyes and sighing comfortably, while Gogron and Teinaava’s forms still shook slightly with content chortles.

I watched them, my mind still buzzing in uncertainty. After a moment, before I could speak, Telaendril’s eyes went past Gogron’s face and met mine. Her expression changed from one of amusement to surprise and concern.

“Adrienne!” she exclaimed. Teinaava immediately swiveled about in his chair, turning to face me, followed shortly by a puzzled Gogron.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Teinaava implored, with concern evident in his tone.

I was about to answer when a sudden realization hit; I didn’t know why my head hurt. The last thing I could remember was falling asleep in the Sanctuary- so what could explain my waking up with an injured skull, not to mention the obvious distress that my family members were in about my condition? I started to feel a swell of something one might call panic, but my thoughts were interrupted by Teinaava’s voice.

“Adrienne, can you not speak? Say something!” I was suddenly aware that the Argonian had risen from his chair and had moved very close to my bed, his brow creased in worry as he watched my expression. Gogron and Telaendril both held similar looks of apprehension. I shook my head slightly before speaking.

“I…” My voice was oddly croaky, so I cleared my throat before continuing. “Yes, I can talk…”

Teinaava let out a sigh at these words, and my other family member’s shoulders seemed to sag a bit at the release of worry. But I was by no means comforted.

“But… why am I here? What happened?” My voice was urgent, and I saw that Teinaava sensed this.

“Well… what do you last remember?” he asked hesitantly.

I cast my gaze inward, trying with great pressure to recall my recent memories. I had been going to sleep, here, in the Sanctuary. But there had been something on my mind, something important... but I could not remember what it was! I concentrated harder- it was just out of my grasp, this memory, but the harder I searched for it, the further it seemed to go from me- like trying to cup water in your palms.

After a moment I sighed heavily, my line of thought broken, and looked at Teinaava. And this reminded me of what he had just been speaking of, to my fellow family members- Ungeval, the incompetent Bosmer… trying to murder Adamus Phillida! The name rang throughout my thoughts, bringing a sudden flood of memories that I was entirely unprepared for.

Image after image flashed through my mind- a young officer, standing beside an elderly man in ornate armor- a small Inn, resembling a fishing shack- a bottle of wine, and a sharp dagger- a figure cloaked in dark, drawing a crimson rose across the neck of a pale figure- a bloody pool, with the corpse of a man floating in it… and oddly enough, a vision of Lucien Lachance, his face shrouded in shadow. And finally I remembered running, guards shouting, objects flying towards me… and pain.

“I was sent to execute Phillida! And I did kill him, I think…but then guards came, and caught me in the act… I tried to run, but something hit my head… and it’s all black after that…” I finished.

He seemed pleased that I was able to recall this much, and nodded slightly in consent to my words before sitting down at the foot of my bed.

“Yes, you finally completed what three of your brothers could not! Phillida lies dead, his soul sent to Sithis and his body burned. It is a time for celebration within the Brotherhood, with you as our champion!”

Telaendril gave a little whoop of merriment, but Gogron gave a groan of despair. We all turned to him quizzically. He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we celebrated Adrienne’s triumphs? Hmm? We had to clean up a battlefield of broken bottles, I ended up with a headache that lasted for days, and am still suffering from a sore back because of sleeping on that bloody table all night! And plus, Ocheeva’ll have our hides if she hears of another party!”

He then glared at the three of us with such a sulky expression that we could not help but laugh. At first he seemed to grow irritable, but then he considered how humorous the situation was and joined in not long after. My head still throbbed, intensified by the laughter, but it was not nearly unbearable.

But as my laughter started to fade, my thoughts went back again to my situation. I still had many questions- what had happened after I blacked out, and how had I gotten back here? Was there something I couldn’t remember?

I looked up and saw that while Gogron and Telaendril seemed quite comfortable and unbothered, Teinaava was anxiously watching me. I was surprised by his look, for it seemed as though he was anticipating something bad to happen at any moment, concerning me. I wondered if it had anything to do with what I had been worrying about, and decided it was time to find out.

“I still don’t understand something- how did I get here? I can’t remember past my black out, but here I am…”

His face clouded for a second, as though he was thinking deeply on how to phrase his next words, and after a moment he glanced over at Telaendril and Gogron before continuing.

“The only explanation I can think of is that the luck of the Night Mother was with you, my dear sister. A courier, a servant of our unholy Matron, was in Leyawiin delivering news to our members there, and sighted you…” he paused here, as if unsure how to continue. “…whilst killing Adamus Phillida. He then watched as guards chased you, and when he saw you had been hit, he felt that the Night Mother had placed him there for a reason- he could not let the murderer of Adamus Phillida be captured when it was within his power to stop it. And so he swept you up from beneath their noses, and brought you here,” Teinaava concluded.

I eyed him carefully, trying to understand what had made that explanation feel so… off. For it had- I could not shake the feeling that something he spoke of was not entirely true, or that the truth had not been completely told. I considered Teinaava my closest family member, and felt that I had an accurate understanding of his ways- and there was definitely something unusual going on here.

Before I could wonder what in the name of Sithis he could be trying to hide in the current situation, however, my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Blessed by the Night Mother indeed...”

I looked towards the archway leading into the Living Quarters, already knowing whom I would see there- Vicente Valtieri. There was no mistaking his eloquent, silky voice. He acknowledged each of us with a nod of his head, turning to me last. He spoke again, his fangs slipping out of his lips in a rather cheeky smile.

“Wasn’t it I who first labeled you as blessed- ‘a gift from the Night Mother herself?’ I think it is quite apparent now, looking at your accomplishments, that you must be… at least to some extent…”

I hung my head modestly, not really sure how to reply to such a statement. When I looked up again though, I found that the vampire’s eyes were trained directly upon me, and so intense was his gaze that I got the distinct impression that he could read my very thoughts.

“C’mon Vicente, you’re embarrassing her!” cried Teinaava good-naturedly, after a moment of rather awkward silence. The Argonian clapped an arm on Vicente’s shoulder, as though to draw the vampire out of the reverie he seemed to be experiencing- but Valtieri ignored his words and continued, eyes never leaving my face.

“The blessings of a powerful force are always a burden to carry. It has been said that if you are favored, or ‘chosen’ by the Gods, that one may also call you cursed, for you serve them devoutly, obey their every desire, yet they take from you everything. To be blessed by the Gods is to be alone…and what you are blessed by, my child, is not even a God; for Sithis is such petty influences. You are blessed by the very forces that keep our world spinning. You are ‘blessed’ by something greater then even a God…”

I felt a chill run down my spine, and had to draw my gaze from Vicente’s- there was something in his stare that I had never seen before, something that I couldn’t describe… but it frightened me with its intensity, its power. My eyes darted to Teinaava’s face, and saw that his expression was one of alarm and bewilderment, a look most probably echoing my own.

“Adrienne-” The voice was commanding. I raised my eyes slowly, hesitantly, until they met Vicente’s. “-no matter what, we decide our own fates. The forces of this land may choose to interfere with us mortals in order to gain their own desires, but their influence can only extend so far. The final choice is always, always yours, and yours alone. Make sure you chose the right path.”

As I looked into Vicente’s eyes, I abruptly had a flash again of my dream- dark robes swelling about in a pool of blood, enveloping a figure in black who was slowly drawing the thorns of a rose across my neck, my own hand aiding it- before it was gone, for he had dropped his gaze. Unexpectedly my head felt light, and the room too large, almost like an empty void- I gasped for air, suddenly out of breath.

Vicenete Valtieri was turning to leave now, his black traveling cloak billowing out behind him.

“I hope I find you all in good health, and I shall see you later for supper. Now excuse me, I have some business that I must attend to…” And he was gone.

A stunned silence followed this rather abrupt departure. We listened to Valtieri's heavy boots clunk down the hallway, creating a haunting echo, until they could be heard no more.

The silence was broken by Teinaava clearing his throat, sounding hesitant to speak. I looked up at him, and found that he was staring at me with wonder and concern. I broke from his gaze and turned toward to Telaendril, whose expression was similar to that of Teinaava’s. Finally, I looked to Gogron. He was staring at the doorway that Vicente had just exited through, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyebrow furrowed comically.

“That was… odd,” Telaendril said slowly.
“Indeed,” came Teinaava’s reply, his eyes now narrowed in concentration.
“I wouldn’t worry about it- I’ve always thought he was off his rocker.”
Telaendril smiled lightly at Gogron’s words, rolling her eyes amusedly.

Teinaava’s lips upturned at the corners, but he was still eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. I too smiled, but I could tell it did not reach my own eyes.

As I thought of these ominous proclamations of Vicente’s, I had a flash of words I had heard before- those of an Argonian Shadowscale, a traitor on the run... “At first, the thrill of a kill was intoxicating; it was all I had, all I needed... But as the years passed, and all of my fellow members, my friends, started dying... The Brotherhood consumes you- it takes everything from you- your ‘normal life’, your sense of morality, your humanity, and finally those you come to love. Oh yes, love…”

“Anyways-” Teinaava said pointedly. “I think it would be a good idea if you went and spoke with Ocheeva, Adrienne. I know there is something she wishes to discuss with you, and she’s been very busy with Black Hand business lately so you may want to try and catch her while she’s in.”

“Shouldn’t she wait-” Telaendril blurted out, but Teinaava silenced her with a sharp look.

“I think enough time has passed. She should be gone by now- Adrienne, go see Ocheeva,” he repeated. I was about to ask who he was speaking of, but he shook his head and pointed sternly toward the door.

Although my curiosity at what Ocheeva needed to chat with me about (and Telaendril’s little exclamation) did steal much of my attention, my unease about Vicente’s words could not be shaken. It was as though he had laid a cloud of dread over my very soul, and nothing I could do would abate it.

I nodded at Teinaava, and expressed my gratitude to Gogron and Telaendril for being so supportive, before making my way to Ocheeva’s room. As I approached the thick doors, I was surprised to hear the dull sound of raised voices resonating from within.

“I absolutely refuse to clean up her mess! I don’t care what the reward is, I will not do it!”

“This is for the good of the Brotherhood- you are not only protecting her, you are protecting us! Is your loyalty to the Brotherhood so easily swayed by such a trivial matter?”

There was a moment of silence, and I was hastily trying to understand what was going on. The voices were most definitely that of Ocheeva and Antoinetta- but what were they discussing? And did it pertain to me, because I had a nasty feeling that it may...
“Fine. I’ll do it.” That was Antoinetta’s voice.

In that split second I had the sense to dart back into the hall to the Living Quarters, positioning myself behind the doorway as to not be sighted by the woman exiting Ocheeva’s room, who was quite obviously in an extremely foul mood. Antoinetta Marie stalked to the doorway leading out of the Sanctuary, a traveling pack on her back and her eyes hard with anger.

I could not help but feel a little thrill of smugness that she had been driven to such a level of anger and frustration, but could not shake the (rather arrogant) notion that her problem had something to do with me. There was no one within the Sanctuary that I believed she would have such a problem with, and would react that way to the proposition of helping them… and I had just been a part of an apparently sticky situation…

Ocheeva’s doors had remained open, but I waited several moments before entering cautiously. She was seated at the table, reading a piece of parchment with her brow furrowed. She looked up when I entered the room, and in the instant before a pleased smile appeared on her face, I could not help but notice how weary she seemed.

“Ah, Adrienne! You’re awake already,” she said, rising and placing the parchment down on the table. I noticed that it was filled top to bottom with writing. “How are you feeling?”

“Quite well, thank you- a bit of a headache, but it will pass,” I replied. “My memory was a bit confused at first, but I think I have a clear recollection of events now.”

“Yes, yes- that is very good. So what exactly do you remember?”

I gave Ocheeva a look of surprise- her tone was, like Teinaava’s, a bit unusual. She seemed to be tense, and wary of saying something wrong, of making sure that what I remembered would be all she spoke off. What was going on? Was I missing something?

I rehashed the story I told to Teinaava and the others, watching her expression carefully. When I spoke of Teinaava’s story of the courier, and how I could not recall anything past being struck in the head, her shoulders sagged and she seemed almost resigned.

“Yes, it was quite the stroke of luck that someone was there to aid you. Speaking of those events, I have something that I think you would enjoy to read…” she turned back to her table and picked up the piece of parchment she had been reading. For the first time, I read the heading at the top.

“SPECIAL EDITION!
ADAMUS PHILLIDA SLAIN
BY DARK BROTHERHOOD!”

Ocheeva arched her eyebrow in a good-natured manner, and handed the parchment over. I read on.

“In what can only be described as a blatant assault on the security and liberty of the civilized people of Cyrodiil, retired Imperial Legion commander Adamus Phillida was brutally murdered by the secretive assassins guild known as the Dark Brotherhood. The slaying occurred in the sleepy town of Leyawiin, where Phillida had chosen to spend the remainder of his days. It was to be a life of quiet solitude, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Imperial City, where Phillida had served the Imperial Legion proudly for more than twenty-five years.

But even in retirement, the noble Legion commander could not escape his past.

Throughout the years, Adamus Phillida had become a rather vocal opponent of the Dark Brotherhood and its practices, and vowed to expose the organizations' secrets and bring its leaders to justice. Indeed, Phillida had been targeted for assassination in the past, but attempts were thrice thwarted by the commander and his Legion soldiers. Sadly, his luck ran out in Leyawiin. When asked if there was any doubt as to the Dark Brotherhood's involvement in Phillida murder, newly appointed Imperial Legion commander Giovanni Civello had this to say:

'It was the Dark Brotherhood, all right. No question about it. The one who committed the crime, who is described as being of human race, with black hair and blue eyes, was sighted running from the scene of the crime to alley where a man in black robes was also sighted. Black robes that matched that which is considered the trademark of the Brotherhood. Conclusive evidence came when we searched his body- the arrow used to kill him was a fabled weapon of the Brotherhood, called ‘The Rose of Sithis’.

This was a crime of vengeance, a despicable act of hatred and evil against a pinnacle of nobility and virtue. Adamus fought the Dark Brotherhood every day of his life, and he died for what he believed in. Adamus Phillida was a great man. He taught me everything I know, and I'll be damned if I let his dream die with him. From this day forward, I vow to destroy the Dark Brotherhood and everything they stand for!"

There is reason to believe that the assassin was staying the in the town for days
before the crime, and two witnesses have been called to interrogation- Adamus’ bodyguard, Seviil Varo (whose whereabouts during the time of the crime are still unknown) and a local innkeeper, Witseidutsei, are being questioned further. We will keep the public informed of the progress in this ongoing investigation.

Adamus Phillida may be dead, but it would seem his fight against the Dark Brotherhood lives on in Giovanni Civello and the rest of the Imperial Legion. There may soon come a day when those bloodthirsty assassins have more to fear than the good people of the Imperial Province.”

Ocheeva waited until I had finished reading before speaking, her voice neutral and her eyes unsurpassable.

“First of all, I must congratulate you for successfully completing what several of our assassins have failed at- the slaying of one of your chief enemies. Your actions shall most certainly live on long into the Brotherhood’s histories. However… you were seen, and your identity may have been compromised. But the deed is done, and therefore I owe you your payment. You did not complete the task needed for a bonus, so you will only receive a sum of money.”

She untied a rather large pouch from her belt, which clinked and clanged with the unmistakable sound of coins. Ocheeva handed it to me, a bit reverently- I voiced my deep thanks, but she waved a hand blithely.

“You deserve it. Now, onto another matter I wish to discuss with you…” She raised an arm and gripped my shoulder, a firm but friendly gesture.

“I think it would be a good idea if you kept a low profile, at least for awhile. You saw the article- there is already an, although rather vague, description of your appearance, and it would probably be safer for you to remain out of the public eye for the time being. If things go well, the situation could change by the end of the week. But if not… well, we’ll discuss that when the time comes.”

I understood her reasoning, and did not really object to it. I didn’t really have the urge to go strolling about town anyways- but what did she mean, to have it ‘fixed’ soon? I was about to voice this question when all of a sudden something made sense- Antoinetta, talking of ‘cleaning up a mess’… had she been sent to kill witnesses?

I really did wish to ask Ocheeva if my deductions were correct, but that would mean admitting to my eavesdropping (although it could hardly be measured as such, considering the level of their voices), and I would never confess to that. So I only nodded in compliance.

“I’m glad that we understand each other. I will be away for a few days, but when I get back I hope we can speak again in more depth. Your presence has been missed about the Sanctuary, Adrienne,” she finished softly, giving my shoulder a final squeeze.

“Believe me, it will be no hardship to be confined to the walls of this Sanctuary, if our family is here,” I replied.

We both smiled amiably, and bade each other farewell. But I could not impede the flow of uneasy feelings- that both Ocheeva and Teinaava were keeping something from me… something about my murder of Phillida- or rather, my rescue. Nonetheless, I did not wish to show the dishonor and distrust of asking outright for the truth, and I resigned myself to the fact that I would simply have to wait- and listen.

I returned to the Living Quarters to find Teinaava, Telaendril and Gogron in exactly the same places I had left them, still eating and laughing, the mood seemingly restored.

“Don’t you lot have anything better to be doing?” I declared as I sat down beside Teinaava, smirking roguishly.

They all exchanged sheepish grins, but there was mischief in their eyes.
“Ocheeva’ll be gone soon, and then we’ll be free for at least a day or two…” Teinaava said, and Gogron nodded emphatically.

“But she’s not gone yet…” I said, raising my eyebrows suggestively.
“She didn’t… didn’t say she was coming down here, did she?” Teinaava asked, suddenly looking alarmed. Gogron had grown alert and was also anxiously watching me for my reply- even Telaendril seemed nervous.

I kept my face neutral, trying to maintain an expression of innocence.
“Well of course she is!” I exclaimed. There was a moment of silence, in which the three stared back at me with horror in their eyes- and abruptly they leapt into action, leaping up from their seats frantically.

“She wouldn’t leave without saying farewell to her dear baby brother…” I added.

All three suddenly became motionless and turned to face me suspiciously. Teinaava’s expression was incredulous- I tried to keep my face straight, but I failed dismally, dissolving into a gleeful laughter.

They seemed shocked and stunned at first, but slowly their shoulders sagged in relief, a bemused expression on Teinaava’s face. Telaendril heaved a great sigh and flopped back onto her seat, while Teinaava sat down slowly, shaking his head and laughing silently in amusement.

Gogron, however, remained standing- his eyes were still wide in shock, and his face was contorted into an expression of indignation. He pointed a thick, shaking finger at me.

“That… that was not funny…” he said slowly, shaking his head.
“Yes it was!” I replied, bursting into laughter once again.

Teinaava and Telaendril gave a (rather relieved sounding) chuckle, and Gogron glared at them before sitting, grumpily grabbing an apple and taking a huge, chomping bite.

“Trying to give me a heart attack…” he muttered darkly, granting us with a remarkable view of the half-chewed apple in his mouth.

The meal passed by in similar fashion- with jokes and jibes, laugher echoing throughout the hall. When we had each eaten our full (and this was a considerable amount, considering that Gogron was present) we leaned back in our seats and sighed contently- all except Telaendril. She had risen from her chair and was stretching her stiff muscles.

“Speaking of things to do, I actually have to be in Bravil by nightfall- I’ll have to be going soon.”

“Oh, do you have a contract?” I asked while watching her start to pack a travel bag, eager to hear the details.

“No, no- unfortunately not. I’ve been assigned to take monthly trips to Bravil, Leyawiin, and the Imperial City, by Ocheeva- for security reasons,” she replied, sliding a rather nasty looking dagger into some hidden sheath on her upper leg.

“Security reasons? I didn’t know that members like us dealt with that sort of thing. I thought that was the job of couriers and such,” I responded.

“Yes, this is a special case. We’ve actually had a shortage of couriers lately- they’ve been dying off rather quickly. However, seeing as I’m really the only member of this Sanctuary who can roam freely about the streets and cities without causing a raucous, and I have been told that I posses a talent for subterfuge… well, this lovely task has fallen upon me.” Her tone was slightly bitter. “Qualities I had hoped would help me advance have instead forbidden me from doing so.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way- your work for the Brotherhood is invaluable. You should be proud that you are not like the rest of us- not confined to the Sanctuary for most of our lives.” Teinaava’s words were sincere, and Telaendril gave him a thankful smile.

I hadn’t ever noticed it before, but now that I thought about it, nearly every time I was at the Sanctuary generally everyone was present as well. I had never considered it odd before, but now I realized that I was probably the one who spent the least amount of time within its walls. And I had never even contemplated that my family members’ reasoning behind this could be unintentional or involuntary.

“For the amount of time you have been an assassin, it is incredible that you are blessed with the amount of freedom that you enjoy,” continued Teinaava. “Most assassins have to retreat to lives of seclusion and isolation after a certain amount of time on the job- you can only go so long, can only commit so murders before you slip up just once, and your face becomes known. The fact that you still remain perfectly unsuspected is quite a feat.”

“I suppose so…” Telaendril said humbly, but her face was shining with pride. “I was a convict after my first kill… and ah, what a bloodbath it was- I took out at least ten guards before my escape!” Gogron proudly declared, his eyes glassy in memory. “Haven’t really been out much since, seeing as the Guard wouldn’t even hesitate to kill me on sight...”

“And it seems Adrienne may be joining us soon enough,” said Teinaava, after rolling his eyes at Gogron’s comment. He turned to me, his expression torn between pity and satisfaction. “Your face may be well known, if the witnesses speak…”

“I don’t think I will find it difficult to withdraw from the public life,” I replied, smiling lightly. “It’s not like I was ever an esteemed member of the community anyways.”

We all chuckled, each reflecting on our own standings within society. What I said was true- I really didn’t think I would mind extracting myself from the community outside of the Brotherhood. It wasn’t like I was involved in anything outside of the guild anyways- but something I would miss was the freedom to go where I wished. If and when the witnesses spoke, they would in all certainty reveal my name, and detailed descriptions of my appearance. That meant I would most likely not be able to even walk on the streets without suspicion. That I supposed I would miss… but like with everything else, I concluded, I would grow used to the situation, and adapt accordingly.

A moment later, Telaendril rose from her kneeling position and swung her bag over her shoulders, heaving a sigh.

“Well, I’m off!” she said, starting to walk towards the archway.
“When will you be returning?” I asked, and she turned back.

“I should be back in a week, maybe a day or two later- but hopefully no longer than that,” she said, her eyes darkening at the prospect of such a lengthy trip.

“May you walk always in the Shadows of Sithis,” we said in farewell, and she returned the send-off wearily, before turning back and striding off down the hallway.

* * *

Life at the Sanctuary in the days following this was pleasant and idyllic, for the only two factors that I felt could disrupt its tranquility were both not present- Antoinetta Marie was off fulfilling the contract I had overheard of, and M’raaj Dar was collecting shipments from Skyrim up in Bruma.

I spent much of my free time sleeping in the Living Quarters, for my constant headache was only starting to abate slightly, no matter what method my family members or I could contrive to defeat it. Teinaava slipped me some scrolls of Ocheeva’s that he would nick occasionally to assuage hangovers, Gogron suggested an ancient form of Orcish massage that would supposedly relieve the pain in my head by kneading it out with a method that I felt sounded absolutely horrifying (I respectfully declined his offer), and Vicente even tried a Vampiric procedure involving herbs that stunk up the Living Quarters for hours afterwards.

On the fourth night after Telaendril had made her departure, Ocheeva finally returned to the Sanctuary. She dropped down from the well ladder to find Vicente, Teinaava and I in the Entry Hall, reading a Black Horse Courier Issue entitled “Anvil Tarts Thwarted”, finding its contents extremely amusing.

She greeted us warmly, and we informed her of the little news around the Sanctuary during her absence. She seemed in even lower spirits then she had been at her departure, and I saw that Teinaava noticed this as well. We inquired about her trip, but her response was vague and offhanded.

And before we could question her further, Ocheeva excused herself and retired to her room for rest after the long journey. Almost immediately afterwards, Vicente bade us a farewell and headed off towards the well ladder- presumably to get some fresh air, for night had surely fallen by now. Teinaava and I exchanged a look, our eyes each signaling that we should get out of the hearing range of Ocheeva- and so we slipped down the hallway into the Living Quarters, treading lightly as not to wake Gogron, who was snoring loudly in his bed.

“I am worried about Ocheeva,” Teinaava whispered to me, his voice full of concern. We had sat down at the round table, and he was across from me. I could only see his eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room. “She has not been herself lately- she has always worked hard, yes… but recently she has been straining herself more so then ever, yet she does not give any sign of ever taking a break. And whenever she returns from her now numerous trips, there is never good news. Times are dark for the Brotherhood, Adrienne- whispers of a traitor are being heard in greater frequency than ever before.”

“A traitor?” I hissed back, my voice incredulous.
“Yes, a betrayer of our Tenets. There has been suspicion for over a year now, but lately the signs have been almost too hard to miss. Couriers, servants of our Dark Matron, are disappearing without a trace- and even a Brotherhood assassin has been killed, and not while serving a contract. Whoever committed these murders knew things that they couldn’t have without having been a member of the Brotherhood.”

“I had no idea…” I muttered. I have to admit I was rather irked that something of such gravity had been going on within the guild without my slightest knowledge- this news had taken me completely by surprise.

“Not many do- the only reason I am aware of the situation is because of the bond Ocheeva and I share. You know that we are egg mates, twins- we share a link because of it, to this very day. We can sense the other’s emotion, if it is strong enough. And when she learned of these events, I felt her distress, and convinced her to share her burden with me.” “I never knew that your connection was so strong,” I remarked, a bit impressed. “But what did she say of the traitor?”

“She couldn’t discuss much in detail with me-” his voice cut off as Gogron shifted in his bed, rolling over to face us. We sat completely still, waiting to see if the Orc would awake. After a moment of silence Gogron’s snoring resumed, and Teinaava continued in a lower tone. “-She couldn’t go into much detail with me because of the difference in our rank. I could normally care less about our standings with the Brotherhood, but that day was one that I felt the disadvantages of being lower ranked. All she could tell me was that there had been deaths (which was already pretty commonly known), and that a traitor was suspected.”

“I can’t believe that someone would betray the Brotherhood- it’s an inconceivable notion in my eyes,” I murmured, shaking my head slightly.

“To I as well- and what worries me most is that recently Ocheeva has been deeply stressed and troubled by the even more current events, but refuses to speak with me about them. Things must not be going well at all for this to happen- and it is in turn causing me great worry. A traitor, within our midst… perhaps even within this very Sanctuary…”

Those ominous words haunted my dreams that night, and the feeling of dread that had descended upon me after Vicente’s warning had not left me- it was only growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

Chapter Seventeen: The Beginning of the End

I slept late the next morning, my headache having returned with such a great intensity in the middle of the night that I had ended up drinking a sleeping draught, for I could not rest otherwise. There was still a dull throbbing, but it was once again bearable- a swelling had sprung up a few days after the incident, and the mound had reached what felt as though the size of an egg- but it had started to shrink in size.

No one else was in the Living Quarters, so I guessed that I had slept past noon. I knew that Teinaava had been given a contract (he had told me of it last night- it was a citizen of Cheydinhal, so I expected he would return before nightfall), and Vicente had left the Sanctuary for a “human blood-collection excursion”. I wondered vaguely if anyone else was in the Sanctuary, and hoped to find something to entertain myself while confined to these walls.

After eating a light breakfast, I head upstairs to find that Gogron was sitting in the Entry Hall, reading a scrap of parchment- I saw a header of “The Black Horse Courier”, and thought of the article from the night before.

“Isn’t that story absolutely hilarious?” I said cheerily, (happy to have found someone to talk with), and sat down in the chair opposite him.

He looked up, his brow furrowed and eyes perplexed. I cocked my head quizzically in return, for I had been sure that Gogron would have found the article- which was about a gang of females who had tricked men into giving up their treasures using their womanly wiles- most amusing.

“I don’t think you’ve seen this one…” he replied, and he handed over the parchment with a somewhat reluctant face.

I looked down at the parchment and read the heading:

“INVESTIGATION HALTED!
INTEGRAL WITNESSES DEAD!
DARK BROTHERHOOD INVOLVMENT CONFIRMED!”

And before I read on, I knew exactly what the article was about, and was sure it would confirm my suspicions about Antoinetta’s anger over a contract.

“Just two days after the murder of respected ex-Legion officer, Adamus Phillida, two witnesses who could have revealed the identity of his murderer have been announced dead.

A local Argonian innkeeper, whose name is reported as ‘Witseidutsei’, was found dead in the storage room of her inn last night. Her presence was reported missing when she failed to attend an interview by local Legionary representatives pertaining to the death of Phillida. She had given a statement that the description released on the murderer matched that of a patron of her inn, and that the Argonian might have some information that could aid in the investigation. What she was able to reveal before her death included the involvement of one Seviil Varo, the bodyguard of the late Adamus Philida.

According to reports, a friend, who was helping search after the Legion representatives had inquired about her location, found Witseitdutsei’s body in her inn; her throat had been cut, and a struggle had evidently taken place, made obvious by the state of disarray in the storage room. A representative spoke of the tragic event, saying that it“…confirms the involvement of the Dark Brotherhood, for this horrific crime is clearly a cover-up. One of their own was in danger, and so they killed the one who could reveal her. We are quite clearly dealing with a group of sick individuals.”

The second death is that of Seviil Varo, the bodyguard of Adamus Phillida. Apparently he was nowhere near the scene of the crime, and his involvement in the murder was brought under question. This was before, however, the now-confirmed rumor had been spread that he had been seduced by the very assassin that killed the old man, and had been indisposed of by her while the crime was being committed.

The public response to this exposure was swift and condemnatory, leaving the man crushed and overwhelmed by society’s disapproval. He also did not show up once summoned yesterday by the Imperial Legion representatives, and when Varo’s house was searched, a suicide note was found, describing his plans to throw himself into the rivers surrounding Leyawiin- ‘I let everyone down, so this is it. Goodbye cruel Empire! I'm ending it all!’, he wrote. He has not been seen after the discovery of this note, and was officially proclaimed dead yesterday evening.

It has been a tragic week indeed for those who fight the evil in our realm- but we can only hope that the one responsible for the death of Phillida, and ultimately that of Witseidutsei and Seviil Varo, will one day receive the retribution that they deserve for their wicked deeds.”

I read the paper with a small smile on my face, skimming to the end. This confirmed what I had suspected- I now had no doubt in my mind that Antoinetta had been sent by Ocheeva to kill Witseidutsei and Seviil Varo, as a cover-up for me. It also explained why Ocheeva had said that I could be free to roam the streets by the end of the week, for she realized that if Antoinetta was successful I would not have much to worry about in the terms of recognition from the public.

Gogron was watching me, his expression inquiring. I realized that it would seem rather odd if I was not surprised by the news, as I was not going to admit to having overheard the conversation between Ocheeva and Antoinetta, and that I should probably act the part.

I molded my expression into one of shock and perplexity, and I opened my mouth and closed it several times, as though on the verge of speech.

“Were we… was one of the Brotherhood sent to kill them? Why wasn’t I told?” I eventually asked.

Gogron put forth a rather pitiful attempt of seeming ignorant, but his almost eyes darted about almost comically (presumably trying to feign innocence) and his rigid composure gave him away almost immediately. He could not meet my eyes, and instead looked towards the floor guiltily, almost like a dog who knows he has been caught doing wrong.

“Gogron…” I said, my voice sounding a tad threatening. “Look me in the eyes…” He raised his eyes slowly, reluctantly, and met mine, grimacing in dread.

“Tell me what you know,” I said slowly, deliberately. I found it quite amusing that I, who was about half Gogron’s size, could intimidate him so.

“You should speak to Ocheeva!” he exclaimed suddenly, as though surprised he had not thought of it before. “She’ll tell you need to know- it was her that told us not to mention it to you anyways.”

I raised my eyebrows, and his eyes widened in alarm- I don’t think he was supposed to have told me that, I thought wryly. Quite suddenly, in a flash of movement that I would have never expected the hefty Orc capable of, Gogron had darted past me and was heading for the ladder.

“Gogron!” I cried out, before starting to follow him as he climbed hastily up the ladder- but he turned and held up a palm.

“No! Ocheeva said to stay in the Sanctuary- you can’t follow me up here!”
And he was gone through the well cover, leaving me behind, chuckling lightly.

Ocheeva rarely left the Sanctuary except for the trips with (what one would be presume) the Black Hand- and since she had just returned from one, I assumed I would find her somewhere within the Sanctuary.

I checked her room, but found that she was absent- so I then made my way into the Training Room, the Living Quarters, and even checked in with the nappingVicente- but I could not find her anywhere. I was walking back through the Entry Hall, a bit perplexed, when she suddenly dropped down from the well ladder.

“Ocheeva! There is something I need to speak with you about-” I started, brandishing the Black Horse Courier article- but she raised her hand for silence.

“But I must speak with you first- it is quite urgent,” she said, and I fell silent, the parchment falling to my side. She seemed quite serious, and I felt my attention completely torn from my original purpose.

“I have just received a sealed letter from a Dark Brotherhood courier. I recognize this type of parcel. It contains sealed orders. It's addressed to you...”

“Sealed orders? Who sends sealed orders-”

“…from Lucien Lachance,” she finished, and I fell silent, my mouth agape. “It would seem the Black Hand itself has a task for you.”

“The Black…Black Hand? Lucien Lachance?” I replied faintly, in a bit of shock.

“Indeed, Adrienne- and you must open these sealed orders immediately, and follow their instructions to the letter,” she said sternly, but her expression was kind. “Yes… yes, of course!”

She handed me an envelope, made of the smoothest, most expensive parchment. The front read simply “Adrienne”, written in an elegant, decorated script. I flipped it over and found that a deep red wax seal held it closed, the insignia consisting of two “L’s” intertwined and circled by the half-moon.

Ocheeva clapped an affectionate hand on my shoulder before making her way to her room, giving me my privacy. Before she closed the doors behind her, however, she turned back and said “Oh yes- I believe it now to be safe and appropriate for you to leave the Sanctuary’s walls.”

Before this would have most probably caught my attention, but my original aim for speaking to Ocheeva had been completely forgotten. The letter, which I held tenderly in my hands, was all I was focused on- a letter from Lucien Lachance himself. I had not seen the enigmatic man since my initiation, which was now months ago. I wondered what the letter could possibly be about…

I tore the seal from the parchment below it with great care, not tearing a piece of the expensive parchment. Once I had it opened, I removed the intricately folded (and equally fine) parchment from within. I found that my hands were shaking slightly as I unfolded it, and a shiver ran down my spine as I started to read the articulate script.

“Eliminator,
You have served the Dark Brotherhood well in the short time you have been with us. Indeed, the rate of your advancement has been rather remarkable. Now the Black Hand itself is in need of your abilities.

You must proceed with all haste to my private refuge in the ruins of Fort Farragut, located in the forest northeast of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. When you arrive, we will discuss the nature of your special assignment.

I cannot stress to you enough the importance of your swift arrival at Fort Farragut. There are unseen powers working to unravel the very fabric of the Dark Brotherhood. The Black Hand is counting on you to prevent this disaster.

Do not share the contents of this message with anyone at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, including Ocheeva, and make no mention of your journey to Fort Farragut! Also, be warned -- my refuge within Fort Farragut is guarded by denizens who will attack any interloper on sight. Get through these rotting sentinels and you will surely have earned the right to visit my private sanctum.
Lucien Lachance”

The name was written extravagantly, with a flourish of loops and lines surrounding his signature. There was no doubt in my mind that this had indeed been composed by Lucien himself- one could recognize the eloquent and fluent words from his speech in his writing instantly.

And as I lowered the letter to my side, I was suddenly aware I was smiling widely, a thrill rising in my stomach. I had a special assignment, from the Black Hand itself! I knew that this did not happen often, for I had discussed it before with Teinaava and Telaendril. And to receive a letter from Lucien Lachance himself, inviting me to the place that he called home… I felt my cheeks burn red, but then chastised myself for such ridiculous and frivolous thoughts. But he had chosen me… over everyone here, he had chosen me…

I was still for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities- before I suddenly leapt into action, as though awaking from a deep sleep from an abrupt sound. I quickly made my way to the Living Quarters and to the chest that I kept my belongings in, searching for something to wear. I held up a looser green shirt, and a form-fitting red vested shirt, and opted for the tighter one- all the while surprised by how steady my hands remained. I pulled on a pair of tight black pants and slipped into my leather boots, which I always used for traveling. It was good to be wearing them again.

I stood up quickly, starting to tie my hair back into it’s customary ponytail- but I stopped in mid-motion, and slowly lowered my hands. My aunt had always said how beautiful my hair looked down, and my family members had echoed the same sentiment after seeing me with my hair down once. And so I left it down, heading out of the well ladder and back into open air again.

* * *

I arrived at the Fort very after only a quarter of an hour of travel, for I was eager to be out of the walls of the musty Sanctuary, and the anticipation for my meeting was nearly overwhelming.

I entered Fort Farragut without worry, believing it to be Lucien’s home, and therefore free of danger- but this thought was quickly proved wrong when an arrow whizzed past my ear, missing my face by inches.

I ducked to the behind a pillar and pulled out my dagger, cursing myself- for I now recalled the last part of the letter- about the “rotting sentinels” that guarded his home. I had only been thinking of the part about getting invited to Lucien’s home.

Another arrow came zipping past my cover, and bounced off the wall in front of me. In my mind I calculated where the creature would be standing from the angle of the shot, and darted around the opposite side of the pillar, dagger outstretched and ready to strike. My foe was a skeleton, holding a rusty old bow and reaching for another arrow. I struck quickly, slicing my dagger against the bones that would have been covered by its neck, snapping them. The skull fell to the floor with a clatter, and the rest of the bones seemed to dissemble before my eyes.

I looked around the old fort, eyeing it distastefully- I now had a feeling this would be more difficult then I had anticipated. I stooped down and picked up the bow and arrow that the felled skeleton had been using, and stuck the quiver on my own back. Stealth was my specialty, and I knew that if I was caught in combat with more then two or three of the skeletons I would most probably be defeated- better to shoot them before they even knew I was there.

And so twenty minutes and thirty arrows later I came to an iron gate, and behind it I could see the obvious signs of inhabitation, and on the walls a tapestry hung, showing the Black Hand of the Dark Brotherhood. I had reached Lucien’s lair, I thought sardonically.

I could not see the man himself within the gate, but the place was not exactly well lit, and many deep shadows dotted the walls- and I knew of his tendency for dramatics. I pulled the lever to open the gate, and as it groaned open I unconsciously found myself adjusting my battle worn clothes and free flying hair. Holding a hand to my dagger’s hilt, just in case, I entered the large chamber.

A solitary bed sat in the corner, with another tapestry above it. Bookcases and tables lay sparsely about the area, and something I think could be recognized as a coffin or sarcophagus sat in front of me. An alchemy set sat on another table, and I could see it was used often. And as I walked further into the room I felt the air grow colder, despite the crackling fireplace- as if a chill had come over me, and I suddenly felt breath upon the back of my neck.

“Welcome to this humble abode, my dear child.”

I turned about quickly, and found Lucien Lachance himself standing inches from me. I took an involuntary step back in alarm, berating myself for having not felt his presence sooner. His eyebrow arched and his lips upturned slightly at the corners, and I realized he was laughing at me.

I took a closer look at the man who had brought me into this assassin lifestyle, and found that not much about him had changed. He still wore the black robes that I had first encountered him with, but they looked quite clean- except for perhaps an almost imperceptible deep red stain on the hems. His hood was pushed back a bit further then the previous times I had seen him, and I could see more of his face. I noticed what looked like a new wrinkle on his forehead, and his eyes seemed, if possible, more deep and full of knowledge. And he was watching me as closely as I was watching him. Once I had finished my inspection I looked into his eyes, and found him staring expectantly back. He was satisfied that I was done, and he spoke again.

“I hope my skeletal friends did not cause you too much trouble.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” I replied smoothly.

“But ah- it seems that one got you,” he said, and I felt my breath catch up in my chest as he walked closer again, and reached out a black gloved hand towards my face. I watched, perfectly still and breathless, as he wiped a gloved finger against my cheek, holding eye contact all the while, the tension almost blaring. He pulled his hand away slowly and held it up, showing the red stain now upon his finger.

I broke eye contact and lifted an astonished hand to my face, and pulled it away to reveal a smear of blood. I had not even known I had been injured.

“Don’t worry- I do not think it will scar,” he said, his voice slightly bemused.

I started to deny that I was worried about such a trivial matter, but he continued speaking before I could.

“So I take it that you received my parcel, and followed the instructions within? You did not tell anyone of your orders to meet with me, to come to Fort Farragut?” His tone was businesslike, and I was a bit flustered by the abrupt change.

“Yes, yes of course! No one knows I am here.”

“Good…” He was silent then, his eyes distant, as though his thoughts were far off- but after a moment he swept out an arm and motioned towards a table. “You must be weary- would you like to take a seat?” And before waiting for a response he strode over to the table, and I followed obligingly. I sat down in one of the sturdy wooden chairs, and he stood at the head of the table, eyeing the various bottles of wine.

“Would you care for a glass of wine? I find myself suddenly parched,” he said, his voice almost ironic, as though he was in on some secret joke that I could not understand.

“That would be lovely,” I replied politely, and watched as he poured us each a goblet of Tamika’s best. He handed me my glass and then lifted his own, sitting back in his chair heavily. He raised his goblet up in a silent toast, and I followed suite, before taking a deep drink of the fine wine. He did the same, and I watched as he swirled the liquid around in his mouth, savoring every flavor, before swallowing- but as he drank again, and spent several moments swallowing, I wondered if maybe he was just reluctant to speak.

After another moment of silence, Lucien heaved a deep sigh, and he started to speak.

“As I’m sure you know, the Dark Brotherhood is a most ancient organization. We have survived for millennia- and sometimes, to ensure that survival, drastic measures are required.”

“Of course,” I said slowly, wondering where this was going.

“We will do whatever necessary to ensure the sanctity of our Sanctuaries, for is that not what their very name implies? They must be unspoiled, untainted with the poison of betrayal- and so when a situation with such treachery occurs, we often respond without mercy.”

I thought of my conversation with Teinaava, just a few nights ago, about the whispers of a traitor in the guild- the talk of a betrayal within the Brotherhood, someone who was murdering their own family members, breaking the Tenets. It seemed that those whispers had been true… and as I looked into Lucien’s eyes, I felt my blood run cold. His next words were causing him distress- and I had a feeling if they were doing so to Lucien, they would most certainly to me as well. He seemed suddenly restless, and stood from his chair, pacing around the table. And then he began.

“I tell you this because there is now a situation of such disloyalty and betrayal within the Brotherhood, and it needs to be dealt with. Now…a Purification is one of the most extreme measures we are forced to carry out- indeed, it has only been carried out twice- before now, that is.”

“A… Purification?” I echoed his words vaguely. This couldn’t be what it sounded like…

“Yes, a Purification. A very drastic measure, but what some feel-” I could not help but notice the contempt in his voice as he said this. “- a necessary one. You know that the Five Tenets are the laws that guide and protect us; but, sometimes, even they must be broken to protect the purity of our beliefs.” I raised my gaze to his own, looking with horror into his deep, intelligent brown eyes. I knew he could see my fear, but he closed all emotion out of his eyes and became hollow as continued on heedlessly.

“With a Purification, we cleanse the Dark Brotherhood of mistrust and treachery, through the only way we know how- to cause death. Except that now it is within ourselves that this death must take place. Those who are slain are offered to Sithis as a symbol of fealty. And, hopefully, we kill the traitor in the process. Until the Purification is complete, no given Sanctuary will ever be considered secure.”

There was a dull thudding in my ears- I could not feel above the disbelief and horror that struck me. I was being asked to kill all of those within the Cheydinhal Sanctuary- I was being asked, no, ordered to slay those who I had grown to know and love as my family. My only family.

Vicenete’s words of warning were echoing in the back of my mind- the sense of dread that had descended upon me had finally been lifted, only to be replaced by a feeling of horror and pain.

I was only faintly aware that Lucien had risen from his chair and was walking behind me, but my eyes did not follow him- instead they were far away, as I tried to completely grasp what was being said. I couldn’t even comprehend the thought of killing them… Telaendril, Ocheeva, Vicente, Gogron, Teinaava! They were my family, they were my friends… they were of the few people in the world who are like me…

I was startled when I felt hot breath against the back of my neck, and an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. Lucien stood directly behind me, and I could feel the warmth of his body on mine. He leaned over my shoulder and placed a few items in my arms. I knew that if I had not heard the news I just had, I would have been experiencing a very different feeling at that moment.

“These will aid you in your coming task- an always lethally poison apple, and a scroll of deep and dark magic,” he said softly, his breath raising the hair on the back of my neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

But he drew back, and I shook my head slightly, trying to clear it. I looked at the apple and the scroll, and did not recognize the markings upon it.

“What is this scroll for?” I asked.

“You of course recall Rufio, the feeble old man I sent you to kill when we first met? He was weak in life, but his spirit is quite angry in death. The scroll will allow you to call upon Rufio's angry ghost for assistance. He will appear, unleash his anger upon your foes, and then disperse.”

I winced as Lucien referred to my family as my ‘foes’. This wasn’t right, it had to be a dream- I could not do this, I just couldn’t! I was silent for a moment, trying to think of a respectful way to decline- but I suddenly just burst out, my voice cracking with emotion.

“No! I cannot kill them, they are my family!”
He looked into my eyes intently, his gaze powerful and unwavering.

“You will come to find, my dear Adrienne, that those you love can always be replaced, no matter how deep you believe your devotion to be. The only constant, the only one who your complete loyalty should lie with, is to the Night Mother and Sithis themselves. For you will never feel whole in life without what they give you- the gift of murder.”

As I looked into Lucien’s eyes, I could see the conviction within them, I could feel the passion and fervor with which he believed his words. His devotion to the Night Mother and Sithis was complete and whole- he would do anything for them. Also within his eyes I saw something else- a sense of understanding that was full of pity, as though he knew what trials I would have to suffer through before my beliefs were as strong as his. But these experiences were necessary, his eyes said.

“Now go!” Lucien exclaimed suddenly, and I looked up wildly into his face. “The Cheydinhal Sanctuary must be Purified! Everyone based out of that location must die if this treachery is to be undone!” He had pulled my chair out from behind me, and was holding my elbow firmly, lifting me into a standing position. He led me to a rope ladder in the corner of the room that I had not noticed before, and gestured upwards. I started to climb mechanically, not even thinking of where I was going. Just before I lifted the trapdoor to climb out of the Speaker’s lair, he spoke again.

“Good luck... my Silencer.”

I turned back, confused- my rank was Eliminator, not Silencer- in fact, I had never even heard of the rank Silencer- but he was gone, and I saw only a black void below me.

* * *

The sun was setting and the air was thick with the essence of night as I stumbled about the forest- I was disorientated, an almost drunken feeling of incomprehension. Everything I had come to believe, to honor, I had been told to fracture today. I had been ordered to break The Five Tenets, the only laws that had guided my life this past year. I had been ordered to eliminate the people who were my comrades, my friends, and my family. Ordered by the man who I thought would above all else try to protect his Sanctuary, and it’s members- instead he was asking me to kill them.

As I found a cluster of rocks on the side of a hill, I came to a stop and dropped to my knees, holding my hands out before me, palms up to the darkening sky. My first thought had been complete and total rejection of the very notion- I would not, and could not, kill them.

But if I did not kill them, it seemed very clear to me that I would no longer have a place in the Brotherhood- in fact, I would probably be killed along with them. That wouldn’t solve anything… maybe I could save them, alert them of the danger, and let them escape to safety! But I thought of Lucien’s words, so long ago; “The Brotherhood knows a great many things…”. They had known, without seeing, that Rufio was dead. They would know when the Cheydinhal Sanctuary members were dead, and they would know if I lied about it. I also did not wish to lie to the Brotherhood- or to Lucien.

I thought again of simply not killing them, not alerting them, not doing anything at all; of just leaving the Sanctuary and the Brotherhood altogether- but the very notion was almost inconceivable. What would I do, if not murder? I could kill outside of the Sanctuary, but without the support of the Brotherhood I knew it would be a quick run before I was caught and captured. What other skills did I have, if not in deathcraft? I was fair at alchemy, I supposed- maybe I could open an alchemist shop? I started to brighten up at the fact slightly, thinking of the poisons I could study and brew, and sell to those who would need them… before I fully thought out how incredibly dull that would be. I could never live like that, I realized. I could never live without the thrill of a kill- for it was like a drug, once introduced, you could never be without it again. And plus, leaving would not even save my family’s lives, for they would just be murdered by someone else, some other recruit within the Brotherhood- or maybe even Lucien himself.

I needed the Brotherhood- just as I was a part of it, it was a part of me. My family members would be dying with what they believed in as well, and would join Sithis and the Night Mother in their void. They would have it easy, I thought bitterly. I would be the one left alone, having murdered everyone dear to me. But I would not be alone, I thought suddenly. Lucien Lachance is still here, and would remain so...

I thought of his words, spoken just under an hour ago; “…those you love can always be replaced, no matter how deep you believe your devotion to be…”. And for some reason, I wondered if that statement had applied to me…

But this thought was quickly extinguished by thoughts of the Purification. Over time, I supposed, more members would join the Sanctuary. They would have to be similar to myself, for all within the Brotherhood share the deep association of murder. But would they be the same as my family now? Of course not, I thought at first… but maybe… maybe they could become equal, they could be just as exciting, for one could assume that all assassins had at least an interesting personality to offer.

Time would pass, and with it would go my pain from their deaths. You can always move on, you can always find someone to replace the opening left by the absence of another. If I could just hold on long enough, their deaths would be just mere memories in my past, a flicker in the shadows of my life. I just had to detach myself until this time would come.

And when I stood again, my heart was no longer pounding in my chest, my breath was even and smooth- my hands were no longer shaking and I could walk steadily. I was resigned to the fate that was awaiting me; I had made my choice. I was going to perform the Purification.

* * *

A day and a half later I was crouching behind a row of piled stones that had probably once served as a wall, the night air thick with the approach of rain. A dirt road ran by in front of me, winding its way through the forest and up into Cheydinhal. A bow sat beside me, leaning against the wall, ready to be used at a second’s notice. My quiver held my most expensive and most deadly arrows, waiting to strike the flesh of an unsuspecting victim.

And my victim today would be Telaendril, for I had sat at this very spot for over a day now, awaiting her return from the Imperial City. I had chosen this spot because it lay deep within the wood, where I knew of none who would be daring enough to venture off the road, and because of it’s reputation for banditry- this provided a feasible cover to the law.

I had kept my mind surprisingly clear during the wait- in an almost suspended existence I sat there, anticipating the moment when the Bosmer would walk around the bend. And yet when I saw her slender form appear, I was still unprepared for the reality of what I was about to do.

I grasped my bow unnaturally tight, my fingers shaking only slightly as I reached over my back for an arrow. As I notched it, I tried to contain my composure, for I felt as though my throat was backed up and my head was ringing incessantly.

She was closer now, and as I started to arm the arrow, I felt not the customary thrill of elation- rather, I felt a sense of dread descend about me, and my hands felt heavy and slippery. I was surprised to find that my face was drenched in sweat, and my hands were as well- for I never had perspired during a murder before.

I could not keep my bow steady, no matter how hard I tried- her face kept shaking in and out of my view. I closed my moist eyes in frustration, grimacing for a moment. I tried to clear my mind, I tried to think of other things, of other murders- and when I finally opened them again, they were free of tears; and they were free of emotion. My eyes were hollow, for I felt nothing- I couldn’t feel anything, or this would be impossible.

With one last careful adjustment to my aim, I let the arrow fly. And as it always had, it stuck true.

Her body to fell to the ground, an arrow through her skull, and almost simultaneously the long awaited rain started to pour down. And as I squinted my eyes upwards into the downpour, I knew that sweat and raindrops were not the only liquid streaming down my face.

* * *

Lucien Lachance sighed heavily as he watched a frothy foam appear in the bubbling mortar- he had stirred too many times again. He had watched a similar scene four times now, and found his patience was wearing thin with himself. He was trying to extract a rare ingredient from fire salts, but his concentration was not intense enough for this to be done, and he had now nearly wasted his limited supply.

His pushed his chair back in anger and stood fiercely, striding over to a small table and pouring himself a glass of his finest wine. He swirled it about in his mouth before swallowing, relishing in it’s delicacy- much as he was swirling his thoughts about within his mind.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not push the thought of Adrienne and her task from his mind. He thought of the image of her face as he told her of her orders to murder the Sanctuary, and he felt a chill run down his spine. The look was one of such disbelief, such anguish… he could feel the pain coming from her very soul. He had a certain understanding of this pain, for he had had to do things to reach his position in the Brotherhood as well, things he pushed deep into the shadowy recesses of his mind, for the very mention of them was almost unbearable.

Lucien was also worrying about the decision she would make, for he was truly unsure about her motives when leaving his Fort. She had seemed so confused, so lost- but he knew that he could not aid her, for this was something she had to face alone. This is why he had ushered her from his own private Sanctuary in such an abrupt manner- if she had sat there for one moment longer he would not have been able to resist the urge to direct her, to reassure her. This was not a feeling that Lucien was accustomed to experiencing, and he found that he was not overly fond of such an uncontrollable urge.

And even if she had chosen to perform the Purification, it was the most difficult thing she would ever have to face physically, not even thinking of the mentality of the deed; for they were eight, highly skilled members of the Dark Brotherhood, hand picked by Lucien himself- and only one of her. She would be very, very lucky to complete the mission unscathed. What if she had failed, and was killed? It had been over a day… he thought, clenching his fist in worry.

But then he chastised himself- he was being ridiculous. There was still plenty of time before he should actually start to become concerned. He was becoming soft in his older age, he decided brusquely.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a sound coming from right above him. He leapt backwards, dropping his goblet of wine with splash and drawing his dagger in one smooth motion. He slipped the weapon back into its sheath, however, when he identified his visitor.

“I have an urgent message!” an official Dark Brotherhood courier exclaimed, leaping off from the rope ladder and landing in front of Lucien with a thump. He was shakily unraveling the ties holing his messenger bag closed, but his eyes were upon Lucien.

“Ocheeva sends word- Telaendril has been murdered! Her body was found on the road to Cheydinhal,” he said, finally opening the bag and passing over a hastily sealed letter to Lucien.

He took the parcel calmly, yet his mind was racing- the courier stood expectantly, shifting from foot to foot with impatience- and Lucien enjoyed waiting for a near moment before dismissing him, smiling at the courier’s awkwardness, for the man had several others to deliver the news to, and not much time.

Lucien opened the letter and skimmed it, finding a detailed analysis of Ocheeva’s suspicions about the murder of Telaendril, and what to do about the possibility of a traitor; which was all-irrelevant to him. He crumbled it up calmly and tossed it in the fire, watching it light into a orange dance of flame and disintegrate into ash. His face was illuminated orange from the glow of the flames, an almost resigned, faint smile upon his lips.

The Purification had begun.

Chapter Eighteen: The Purification

I stood quite still, not a muscle moving; the only sound was that of the crickets serenading the expansive dark skies surrounding me. Yet for all the motionlessness of my body, my mind was moving in speeds and ranges I could not have imagined before this time. Two days had passed since the death of Telaendril, but I was still not ready to face what awaited me inside the Sanctuary’s walls. Before me sat the well, its cover shifted aside. Through the crack this created, a soft shimmer of light escaped from the depths within.

And I stared at that gap, fighting some invisible force that seemed to be preventing me from entering. Below that well cover laid the Sanctuary, where I knew that its members would be mourning the loss of one of their own. Our! One of ‘our’ own! I thought savagely, trying to correct myself. I was already starting to separate myself from them, to refer to myself as different, an outsider of the family. I felt such a strong sensation of self disgust and revulsion that it was nearly unbearable, for I knew that I couldn’t be one of the family anymore; having to kill all of them made things a bit complicated.

An infinity seemed to pass, but I finally found the power within myself to shift my still muscles, knowing that the patrols of Cheydinhal guard would soon start their evening rounds. I had to go down there, and I had waited long enough…

After killing Telaendril, I had worked quickly, methodically- I'd been trying to keep my mind off the reality of my actions. The rain was strong and persistent, so I had rapidly gone through her possessions, taking whatever I felt a bandit would have, and dragged her body to the side of the road. I then went back to my hiding place and awaited the arrival of a guard. Several hours later a patroller on horseback went by, and he discovered the body and returned her to Cheydinhal, believing the death to be the work of bandits.

I probably should have returned to the Sanctuary right then, but instead I had waited until the officer was out of sight and turned the opposite way, heading west. I was restless, I could not keep still- for being still meant that I would think. And I could not think of what I had just done; not yet. And so I traveled, like my days before the Brotherhood, with no supplies except my bow and arrow, dagger, and clothes on my back. I did not sleep except when it was absolutely necessary, and even then it was a light doze, filled with fretful tossing and turning- and dark dreams.

But eventually I found myself near Cheydinhal again, and I knew that it was time I returned to the Sanctuary- which brought me to where I stood now, staring at the well, preparing to climb down and return to those who I had once called family without trepidation

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and murmured a short prayer to the Night Mother before suddenly stepping forward and fully pushing the grate off to the side. I made my way down the ladder quickly, with ferocity- for I knew that as soon as I stopped to think I would find some excuse to remain outside, to turn back.

I dropped down into the Entry Hall to find it almost chillingly empty, the intense silence eerie and unnatural. There was most definitely something wrong, and had I not been the cause of it I would have been most alarmed at this moment; but I was the cause, and felt only apprehensive.

Ocheeva’s doors were closed and I heard no noise coming from within, so I continued onward to the Living Quarters. My heart was hammering within my chest, a dull throbbing echoing throughout my skull. There was a still sort of silence in the air, and I felt my breath constricted as I turned the final corner of the hall.

The scene within the room was one of dim lights and tense silence. Dozens of candles were scattered about the room,