The Story of Iriisii Dovakiin

 The Story of Iriisii Dovakiin

                                                 Chapter One: The Beginning

     The day starts bright and early in Iriisii's village. Her people are Aasimar, who choose to live apart from the rest of Nirn on a fairly large land mass almost directly opposite Cyrodiil, across the ocean on both sides. There are other races living here with villages, towns, and cities being ruled over by various levels of nobility. Iriisii's village is high and isolated in a mountain range where long uncounted years ago during the Dawn Times, certain entities now considered Gods, warred and battled, causing such upheavals in the mountains that very deep and large enclosed flatlands were created.

     Her people at that time were almost destroyed by the battles. Afterward, the winners saw the devastation and were moved to attempt to repair the damage. They went in among the survivors and did what they could to heal them, help them recover, and teach them how to survive in the newly changed land. And in so doing the people became 'God Touched' and here were Nirn's Aasimar born. At first only protectors and scourge were born, the fallen came later as the darker, more evil of the Aedra and Daedra came upon them and tried to sway them to their causes. One in particular, the first to fall, embraced the evil ones' teachings, seeking revenge for the death of her only child in the God Wars.

     What her name was then, was lost in the ensuing years, so many that she herself forgot what she had been called. And so, took up a new name, a name that would come to be known among the Aasimar as a name to be feared, a name never to be uttered lest attention be brought to the one speaking it. A name that ultimately caused most of the Aasimar to leave Nirn, and those few who stayed, banished that name from their conscious thought. But still, it lurked in the depths of the unconscious mind, ready to be called upon in times of the greatest need, that name was Desidarius.

     Iriisii and her grandfather are in the training area, her grandfather teaching her the 'Twin Swords teaching', as she had proven to be only one of a handful agile enough to learn it.

     Grandfather: "That is it, yes, now strike, spin and block, forward and backward strike, sweep left low, rise to sweep right high, watch your blades positions, keep your feet moving in the pattern, yes you are doing well. Enough for today."

     Iriisii: "But Grandfather, we still have more light to train by, it is only just past midday."

     Grandfather: "I know, my child, but we have another task to perform now. A wild boar has taken to rooting up the farm fields on the edge of the old trees. If he is not killed, he will destroy much of the crops growing there, and may even attract some females to wander close, then we would really have trouble."

     Iriisii: "I understand, Grandfather, let me get a 'boar spear' and we will be on our way."

     Grandfather: "No, take your twin swords. They will be enough."

     Iriisii thinks carefully on her Grandfather's words. Hunting a wild boar is dangerous enough with a 'boar spear', made with an iron crossguard halfway up the shaft to prevent a boar from climbing the full length of the spear to get to the person holding it, but to only use two normal length swords.

     That is going to require a lot of luck as well as stealth, positioning, and acute reflexes. Strike too soon or too late, not deep enough, hit the wrong spot, and a fair size boar can tear a person up in just a few seconds. To command this of her, means that this must be a test, a test of resolve, skill, and training.

     She thinks, "whatever happens, I must remain calm. I must stay in control of myself, of my emotions, or both of us may not come back whole or at all, for even a tiger will hesitate to challenge a mature boar, unless he can take the boar by surprise, yes, that is the only way to kill a boar with twin swords".

     She sheathes her swords, steps up to a barrel of cold water, and pours a good amount all over her body, washing away the sweat of weapons practice and hopefully diminishing her scent so the boar does not smell her before she can get close to him. Once done, she walks back over to her Grandfather, stands, and waits for his command to begin their hunt. For always, in all things, respect should be shown to one's family elders and she loves her Grandfather dearly. As she looks at him, she sees that particular twinkle in his eyes that marks his approval of her actions.

     Grandfather: "Come, let us go and find this pest of a boar. And maybe even bring back dinner for the village. I am certain that would not go unappreciated."

     As they pass through the village, the people take notice and nod in approval of the way Iriisii walks beside and just a half step behind her Grandfather, back enough to show deference and respect, close enough to protect should the need arise. They seem to already know what their goal is to be this afternoon, for the younger children stop their play to watch the pair in their paced walk.

     No calls, no shouts, they stand and watch, praying that things go well for the hunting pair, and maybe roast boar on the dinner plate tonight. As they pass the far edge of the village, the priest waits for them to approach. As they reach him, the pair kneels in the dirt as the priest intones the blessing of the Gods to protect them from harm as they go to help keep the village safe.

     Iriisii feels a warmth envelop her as the priest finishes his blessing. The priest is also aware of what she feels, and it reminds him of how even as a small child, the Gods seemed to take a special interest in her. He silently prays that this will be a good thing, for with the Gods, you can not always tell if their interest is good or bad.

     As they walk along the dusty, well-worn path, her Grandfather talks to her about the possible futures she may have.

     Grandfather: "I know you wish to stay and protect the village as many of the young warriors do, but I feel you need to look further. I have watched you grow and mature, you are farther along the path than many your age. But...I have had dreams about you."

     Iriisii keeps walking even as she is startled by his revelation. She knows that in his younger days, many times he had precognitive dreams, and many times trouble was averted when the people knew what was coming ahead of time. For him to admit he had been having dreams about her, filled her with equal parts trepidation and curiosity. Still, she walked and waited patiently for when he felt it right to tell her what he saw.

     Her Grandfather continued until they came to the edge of the old-growth trees, some survivors of the 'God Wars' were so large it took several people with hands clasped to reach around just one of the trunks. Its limbs spreading out far across the clearing were able to give good shade as they stopped and her Grandfather motioned for her to sit.

     Grandfather: "Much of what I have seen is shrouded in dream fog. It is not clear to me at all. What I can see, tells me that you have a great destiny ahead, if you choose the right path to tread. If you so choose, you will become the crux of decisions that will reach far beyond that which we know. Gods and Demons will vie for your favor, good and evil will be difficult to discern, each masking as the other. Death will seem as a constant companion, but when you will seek him out, he will hide his face from you.

     Suffering and torment will follow in your footsteps, but as you learn to deal with the Fates, the rewards of patience, resolve, and persistence will make themselves known to you. And those rewards will far overshadow the pain you will endure. As far as I can see of your path, it will take you to many places, and then I cannot see where you go from there. But you will leave this world a better place for your being in it, and when you leave, you will not be alone.

     Remember this for it is most important, when I speak of your leaving this world, I do not speak of death. I do not fully comprehend what is ahead for you then. But you will go as the 'Great Fates of Old', they who hold the weave of existence itself, have decreed for you. Show mercy to those others say do not deserve it and mercy will be shown to you. Seek redemption for those most in need of it, and when you have the need, redemption will be yours. Stay true to our teaching, fight evil in all of its disguises, lead those who follow you by your example not by your command, whether you fight or whether you love, do so with all of your heart, mind, and soul. Then will the Guardians of our past, gift their favor to you and stand with you, as you face the greatest of our enemies. Now come, the boar awaits his fate, just as you await yours."

     They continue into the forest, the light slowly fading as the tree limbs fight for every ray of light, letting less and less fall to the forest floor. Iriisii takes in all of the signs of the boar's presence, the scuffs along the base of the trees, the pocks in the ground where his massive weight sinks his cloven feet into the soft ground. She notes the strength of his spoor around the droppings he leaves, marking the territory he considers his. Slowly, softly, they place their feet, deliberately choosing where to place each step so as not to alert him to their presence before they want him to know.

     There in a dense growth of brush, she hears snuffling as he exhales his breath, sleeping but unconsciously aware of all going on around him. As they stop, Iriisii looks around to note what is around her, would the brush hide her, what direction is the gentle breeze coming from, will he smell her? There she sees the path of her approach, behind her by several feet is a large tree with strong limbs, a couple right over where the boar is sleeping, giving him shade from the heat of the sun. But too high for her to climb directly without making too much noise. Ah, just a bit to the side of the large tree is a smaller one with limbs that run to the large one, yes, that is her path.

     She moves to the smaller tree as her Grandfather keeps watch over her decisions and her movement. Climbing the smaller tree is no problem, there are enough low limbs, she doesn't have to attempt a jump. Quickly, she is moving out over the smaller limbs, but gently so as not to cause too much movement and awaken her prey. She changes to the larger, sturdier, limbs and slowly moves out over the brush where the unsuspecting boar sleeps. She notes his position, how he lays, and how she must position herself to drop directly on top of him. One wrong move here and the results could cost her life in spite of what her Grandfather had seen in his dreams. She draws first one sword, lays it along the length of the limb then draws the other. Keeping the second in hand, she grasps the first and readies herself for the drop to come. 

     She spots along his back, looking for the spine, seeing her first target, she locks it in her mind's eye and adjusts the second blade just off to the side, and turns it to slip between his ribs, seeking his heart. With a quick prayer to the Gods, she stands and steps off of the limb, making no noise, the boar knows nothing until the blades are already doing their damage, one slicing his spinal cord, paralyzing him, keeping him from thrashing, and thus the second blade finds his heart. In the course of a few seconds, the massive beast lies dead, his tusks like daggers, sharp and strong as steel, will look good strung on a leather strap cut from his hide.

     Her Grandfather looks on with pride at his granddaughter's kill. A menace to the village is now gone, and food for several days will soon be cooking on a spit. And a test of skill, luck, good decisions, and steel resolve has been passed. She is ready, he thinks, for not even the best of the village's hunters could have brought down a beast like this in the manner that she did. And the fact that she trusted him enough to follow his decision in how the kill was to be done, without question, and do what was needed to see it through.

     The part of his dreams, he did not tell her, of what would happen later, after all had gone to sleep. He could not warn the village of what was to come, that was made quite plain to him. He would not survive either way, but his granddaughter would, and though she would be severely tried. She would come through her trials, scarred, yes, but who in this world, at this time, did not have scars, either inside, outside, or both.

     It was the long future he was looking at, the deeds that she would do, her name to be both feared and loved, the evils she would defeat, and the lives she would change by her passing. She would be the balancing weight that would keep the scales of the future from dropping forever to the dark. The cost would be high, yes, but to ensure the survival of those who follow the path of light, be they man, mer, or beast, no cost is too high. And she would be the one, the one to lead the way, to show the world the path it needs to take, and when it is done, finally done, to step aside and let the future walk its own way.

     He gives Iriisii his skinning knife and directs her in what to keep and what to give back to the forest. They share the load and make their way back to the village. As they are spied on the road, a crowd comes out to meet the triumphant pair. The skin with meat and select bones taken by the women, to be prepared for cooking. The fire already lit, the children running and playing, working up an appetite to later be sated with roast boar. The hunters listen to her Grandfather recount the tale of the hunt. All show respect for the deed of taking such a monster of a boar with nothing but twin swords. The head hunter himself filling the first tankard of ale and pressing it into Iriisii's hands. As she drains it in one draught, the cheers from the village folk ring in her ears, their approval warming her heart as the ale warms her stomach. She demurs on a second tankard, saying later after she gets some food into her belly. Her Grandfather looks on with pride, as even in the midst of a feast like this, she continues to show good judgment. If only her parents could be here to see their daughter's moment of triumph.

                                                                               *

     As the smell of the boar cooking on the spit spreads throughout the village, Iriisii's Grandfather takes a moment to savor what is likely to be the last time he will enjoy such a gathering. He knows what is to come, and even considers that he knows why it must happen this way and at such a high cost. For what his granddaughter must do in the future, years ahead from now, requires costs that must be paid now to free her for what lies ahead.

     She must be given no choice but to accept her path, for anything else will see her fail, and if she fails...Nirn will be a place where only demons and such will live. As he nods his head to pray for guidance, the village sage walks up to him.

     Syrestii: "I know your heart is heavy for what approaches, but you must keep your mind on what the Gods ask of us, and why it must be as they say. I know you do not fear for yourself, but rather for Iriisii, and the others as well."

     Grandfather: "You know me too well, yes, I worry for my granddaughter. None before have ever been chosen to face what she will be asked to face. How do I prepare her or anyone for a task such as that?"

     Syrestii: "You can not. You can only give them the skills that they can build upon. If their base is strong, and their will is guided by their faith and training, there is nothing they cannot do. You have instilled in her the best of who we are. You have buried it deep in her very soul, such that she does not have to think about what she must do, she just acts and follows the teaching you have given her. Have you spoken to her about how her training has been different from what the others have received? I know some have asked me about the reason for it and I have simply told them that she has been chosen by the Gods for the Blade Dancer training. That they wish for her to be their 'An Ath Yrrin'.

     I feel that it will take time for her to accept that role and during that time much is going to happen to push her one way and then another. But once she sees the wisdom in the path she travels, nothing will stop her from doing what she feels she must do. I only pray the Gods to have patience with her until she sees clearly."

     Grandfather: "When you told me she needed the Blade Dancer training, I almost called you crazy. No one has been given that training since 'the unnamed one', millennia ago, and then to find out there were still some few remaining, hidden away in far corners. I asked myself, 'why?', but now I see 'why', and yet, to see how she has taken to it.

     I still worry about it, even though Sharra has told me they will finish her training and bring her into their family. If it were any other telling me that, I would refuse and find another way, but I know Sharra's position in the Dancers. There is no one higher, her word is law to them, and she has given me her oath to treat Iriisii as her own daughter. I am satisfied that she will learn from the best, who can show her how to use her talents to do the Gods' will and survive." 

     Syrestii: "Even though the Blade Dancers came from outside, they have always been stalwart defenders of mortals. They too, walk the razor's edge between good and evil, just as our Scourge do, and so they feel a kinship. And so, how can I say they are not wrong in this. They say Iriisii carries within herself the ability to command their greatest skills and magics of the 'Blade'. Sharra asked if one of her parents may have been one of their 'lost ones', individuals who for whatever reason vanished during their trials and never returned to the fold. I said truthfully that I did not know, but I have thought long and hard on that question."

     Grandfather sighs, heavily before answering, "yes, I am aware of what you say. In truth, I think there may indeed be truth in what Sharra asked. You know my son brought his bride from out of nowhere. He went out on a 'dream calling' he had that repeated every night for over a month until it grew so strong he had to go in search of it. He was gone for an entire season, going deeper into the wilds than any of us have ever gone. Who knows who or what may have been left from the Godwars still alive somewhere out there.

     I think he found what he was searching for, but the question remains, was it our Gods who gave him the 'dream call' or others we know not of. For my 'daughter' died soon after Iriisii was born and my son followed her in grief. If so, it would answer so many questions I have had over the years. But especially why it is that the Gods have such interest in her. For with that kind of heritage, she could be made into a weapon of unspeakable power, and for the sake of Nirn and beyond, she must not 'fall' as did the 'unnamed one' so long ago it is now mostly legend. But as you yourself know, the truth behind that legend."

     Syrestii: "To my undying shame I do, ever since we found that scroll hidden deep in that cave we had taken shelter in against that monster of a storm. And in finding it, reading it, comprehending the words it spoke, telling me that the line that produced the 'unnamed one' did not die out in the Godwars, but continued on down to myself as the last one. Now, maybe after tonight, the shame will be buried as it should have been in those times."

     Grandfather: "Sage!, Syrestii, you cannot believe that! You know that redemption is possible for any who earnestly seeks its balm. Your line has not had another 'fallen' since that one and so I say it was not a fault of the 'line' but rather the 'loss' that caused it. Many of the fallen have occurred for far less, you must not blame yourself or your ancestors for what happened."

     Syrestii: "But she was the 'first' and in the place of banishment, she lives still. Does anyone know if she was and is alone there? What else may she may have encountered and learned from, in that place? If she somehow came to meet Iriisii, could she draw Iriisii to her side and damn her for all eternity. For together not even the Gods would have the power to stop them."

     Grandfather: "And so the Gods watch over her, day by day, night by night. You have felt them I know, the priest has also felt their presence. He has done all he can to teach her to call upon them in times of trouble, to meditate on their words, and I have encouraged this, for it helps her to maintain the balance. Thus keeping her safe from the fate of the 'fallen'."

     Syrestii: "I hope you are right, I truly hope you are right, for the sake of Nirn and all that exists beyond. Now the boar you came back with is almost done. We should get ready for the feast and what comes for us afterward."

     The two elders return to the fire with the smoke for the cooking boar wafting through the village, making many a child's mouth water at the prospect of some of that meat in their bellies. As the people gather for the feast, the priest steps forward to ask the God's blessing on the meal.

     He makes his prayer short, as even he longs to taste the savory meat on its spit ready to be carved and given to the hungry people. Everyone gathers around as slices are taken from the smoking carcass and each selects from the other dishes laid out according to their tastes. The talk around the feast runs from repeated tales of the hunt to what crops are due to be harvested in the fall. The night slowly paces forward, the fire dying down now that there is no longer boar grease dropping on it and flaring up.

     The crowd starts wandering off to their homes and beds, knowing the day comes after the night, and the next day's work will be there for them to start. Grandfather, the Sage, and Iriisii are all that are still up. As Grandfather says his goodnight to the Sage and his granddaughter, rises and starts toward their home, the sound of an arrow driving through the dark hits their ears as it lodges itself in Grandfather's throat. Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps are heard running into the village. As much as Iriisii wants to go to her Grandfather, she knows he is dead, and he would tell her to see to the living.

     Already the sounds of doors being smashed in are heard, swords and daggers find their way into the villagers' bodies, claiming life after innocent life. Iriisii uses all of her skills in stealth and evasion to reach the weapons in the home she now no longer shares with her beloved Grandfather. As her hands make their choice as to what weapon will fill them, blinding rage now fills her heart and soul. Whoever these marauders are, they will pay a high price for this night's actions.

     She reaches for the trapdoor for the upper area between the rafters and the roof, climbing upward, she moves to a spot in the roof that she had meant to repair, but will now give her silent access to the outside and allows her to decide who will be the first to fall to her blades. As she looks around, she sees some of the homes have been set afire. Praying their inhabitants are already dead, she singles out a marauder running close by, toward her with a torch in hand.

     Dropping down just as he reaches her, but never looking up, a fatal mistake, he never sees the blade raking across his throat, or his life's blood gushing out from the new smile Iriisii just gave him. She spots another but moves into the shadows as he sees his fallen comrade and moves to see what happened. He approaches looking to find whoever did for his friend, but Iriisii has already joined herself to the darkness of the night as she moves swiftly behind him and runs her blade into his back, through his heart, and out of his chest. He sees the firelight glancing off of the blade protruding from his chest even as his sight grows dark.

     She retrieves her blade and moves on, searching for those in command. Reading that these are just followers, acting on their leaders' orders. There, riding a horse as black as night, a woman with the bearing of a warrior, dressed all in black, she sits tall and watches the actions of her followers. One stands beside her, muscular, dressed in black and dark browns, he looks up to the leader and appears to be asking something of her. She seems to feel the question not important if the scathing look she gives the man is any account.

     The Father: "Mother, why are we here? There is nothing important out in the 'arse end' of these cursed mountains!"

     Mother Roseaith: "You fool! Do you think I would bring all of you out here just for some training exercise? The client is paying us such a sum of gold that there must be something or someone of immense value here. One hundred thousand 'Septims' at the local exchange rate of 1:1 1/2 nearly doubles the payment in our local currency. Besides I feel her here somewhere, she hides herself well. If she is even half the warrior I think she may be, we would do well to capture her alive."

     The Father: "Alive, but why, when the job calls for her death!"

     Mother Roseaith: "Twice fool, how you managed to reach the position of 'First of the Seven' I am not so certain you will retain it if this is how well you think! If she can be captured, I will see her drugged with the 'Pollen of the Black Lotus', and then redirect her training to our needs. She might well become an assassin skilled enough to even replace you as 'First'" and murmurs, "maybe even me as well".

     Iriisii does not know what was said but feels the gaze of the woman on the horse as her eyes search everywhere looking for something, or someone. Iriisii sees her next target but abandons him as she sees another having captured the Sage, and is taking her to the woman on the horse.

     Mother Roseaith: "Who is this that you bring before me? She is not who we seek!"

     Journeyman Assassin: "She is a Sage, Mother, a person of importance in a village like this one. She may have information on who you seek."

     Mother Roseaith: "Ah, someone who has learned how to use their brain. Look out for this one, Father, he may replace you someday."

     The Father snorts his disdain but wisely does not speak further.

     Mother Roseaith: "Tell me, Sage, you would know of all who live here. I seek a young woman, skilled in near every bladed weapon placed in her hands. Mark her out for me and we will leave as quickly as we arrived."

     Syrestii: "Surely you are not so stupid as to think I...", suddenly the 'Mother's' hand stretches forth and slaps the Sage with enough force to send her to her knees.

     Mother Roseaith: "Either you will do as I ask or I have no further use for you."

     Syrestii: "Do what you will, I harbor no illusions that none here will leave alive. But know that vengeance will follow you wherever you go and will strike from the shadows when you least expect."

     Mother Roseaith laughs, "do you think I am any stranger to shadows?"

     Syrestii: "There are shadows and then there are deeper shadows. What will hunt you will live in the deepest shadows, deeper even than the void, where lives Sithis."

     Mother Roseaith: "That may very well be, but I am 'Mother' to the 'Sinister Seven' and I fear nothing that calls the shadows 'home'. And with that pronouncement, the 'Mother' strikes, plunging her hardened hand up under the breastbone of the Sage, grasps her still beating heart, and slowly squeezes, watching and savoring every moment of anguish before the Sage finally dies. Then she releases her grasp on the Sage's heart and her body falls to the ground as a cry of primal rage and grief erupts from between two still-unburned homes across the open center of the village.

     Mother Roseaith: "There she is! I want her alive, do you hear, ALIVE!"

     All of the remaining acolytes she brought, almost twenty in number move to surround Iriisii as she steps out into the open, where she can spill the blood of those who have destroyed her home and life. She raises her twin blades into a passive stance, one where she can block or attack with equal ease.

     Mother Roseaith: "Look at her, Father. She is magnificent! Her stance is perfectly balanced, and her rage is now not the fire you would expect, no, that would cause her to make mistakes. Her rage has gone cold, the cold of the dark between the stars. She will make no mistakes, all who face her tonight will fall."

     The Father: "Then how..."

     Mother Roseaith: "Watch and see why I lead and not you. I came prepared, but first I want to see just what she can do."

     The Father: "But what about..."

     Roseaith gives him a withering look of purest malice, "I believe she is worth more than every one of those she faces combined, and I want to see it with my own eyes."

     Iriisii drops straight into an attack stance, sweeping her right arm at the closest opponent, then doing a sharp turn as he backs away to keep her sweep going and right into the neck of the one next to him. The head falls to the ground with a solid 'thump', his eyes still open and seeing, his mouth trying to speak, but there is no air moving, his vocal cords are with the rest of his body anyway.

     Moving swiftly, always moving, not giving the enemy a chance to see where her next strike is going. Sometimes they get lucky and parry a strike, but someone else is always unlucky and dies. Time seems to slow for her as the blood keeps spilling from body after body. Even as the ground becomes muddy with red mud, her footing is always precise even as her opponents sometimes stumble over the body of a friend, and find her blade waiting for them to relieve them of their life.

     Roseaith: "Father, can you see her, she is the embodiment of the poetry of death. I must have her, she will be mine, my disciple. I will turn her into the most deadly assassin to ever walk the ground of Nirn."

     Father: "But what of the client?"

     Roseaith: "Leave him to me. I know how to convince him she is dead, all the while, she will be mine! She will be done with the sword fodder soon, watch and see how to capture someone who can dance with Death himself as she does."

     Roseaith steps to her horse and reaches into the saddlebag. Gently pulling out a cloth-wrapped object, she surely and quickly unwraps it, to reveal a clay orb. The shell is obviously thin and fragile due to the care with which she handles it. Then she observes the massacre, to see just when to lob it toward Iriisii. As Iriisii turns to put her side toward Roseaith, the orb flies out over the open area straight toward Iriisii. She sees it unconsciously in the side of her view, her left blade rises to bat it away. As the blade strikes it, the orb shatters, scattering a cloud of fine pollen dust over the area.

     Iriisii immediately feels the full effect, she stops and holds her breath, to no avail as the pollen dust she had already breathed in and the remainder being absorbed through her skin begins to do its work. Within a matter of seconds, she drops to her knees along with the remaining opponents, a few of them far enough outside the cloud of dust to back away from its effective area. Still barely conscious by the effort of will, her subconscious rings out with a name from prehistory.

     Suddenly the ground begins to shake, Roseaith and the Father looking around for the cause of it, see a circle of ground between them and Iriisii falls into a pit of absolute darkness. Then from that pit rises a figure, glowing with an almost lightning-like sheath surrounding the figure obscuring her body and face. The figure looks around, first gazing at the body of the Sage, and walks over to it.

     Desidarius: "Finally, it is over, my last descendant is dead,  but she was not the one who called. Neither was it the two of you", as she continues to look around, she notices all of the dead and near dead bodies strewn about.

     Roseaith: "Who are.."

     Desidarius: "Who I am is of no concern to you. I care not that you are obviously the ones who set this in motion. If you wish not to join them, you would be wise to be silent."

     The Father starts to open his mouth and speak but Roseaith quickly places her dagger to his throat and whispers, "utter one sound and I will cut your throat where you stand. Say nothing at all and maybe we will live another day."

     Desidarius: "Wise advice, you would be best to heed it." As she walks over to Iriisii, "ah, Black Lotus pollen dust and she is the one who called me."

     Desidarius kneels down and speaks to the delusional and almost unconscious Iriisii.

     Iriisii: "De...si..."

     Desidarius: "Shhh, they do not need to know my name, only you need to know my name, you called me, my child, but you are in no shape to bargain with me for your freedom. We will meet again though, and then we will speak more. I look forward to our next meeting, seeing as you must be the one who accomplished this carnage. You have much potential, but you will need the training to see it and know how to use it. Take heed and stay alive, do what you must, and know I will be watching you."

     Desidarius stands and turns to Roseaith, "do what you will with her, but do not kill her or face me in your darkest dreams. I look forward to seeing what you can do with her, do not disappoint."

     Desidarius then walks over to the pit she arrived from and sinks back out of sight, the ground then pushing its way back up and sealing the nether portal as if it had never been.

     Father: "Who was she?"

     Roseaith: "More to the point, what was she? Someone it would be better not to cross, that I assure you of. Incredibly ancient and incredibly powerful, and the fact that she has an interest in the young woman, now I am doubly glad I did not just order her killed outright. I shudder to think what 'that' may have done. Anyway, we must be away, bind her hands behind her back, then bind her ankles, and then tie between the hands and the ankles, but do not do it tight enough to restrict blood flow. I will not give, whatever she is, a reason to object to our treatment of the young woman. And make sure you pick up all of the bodies that are ours, I do not want anything here to trace back to us. We will take care of the dead as we go."

                                                                                *

     Iriisii still unconscious is placed in a cage that will allow her to stretch out but not stand, kneel, or crouch. The bottom has been padded with furs and pelts. The top has been covered by a fabric covering to shield her from the sun and from outside sight. The group slowly makes their way along the roads, trails, and paths, avoiding large gatherings, and caravans, staying along the more remote paths. Every now and then, one of the dead bodies of Iriisii's efforts at vengeance is dropped off in the forest, a ravine, or anywhere where the local fauna will dispose of it.

     As Iriisii slowly regains her senses from the Black Lotus powder mixture, Roseaith continues to adjust how much she is being given to make Iriisii pliable and suggestable without interfering with her skillset. Her goal is that by the time they arrive at the "Seven's" lair, Iriisii will be allowed free movement but still tethered by the drug. Roseaith just has to fine-tune how much to give her each day.

    As much as Roseaith would like to question Iriisii about the entity that appeared at the village, she thinks that might not be such a good idea, best not to cross that until she can be assured of her own survival if the entity takes offense. Now as to the task of convincing the client that contracted for Iriisii's death, that she is indeed dead, Roseaith rips the bloodstained clothes from Iriisii and gives them to one of the remaining acolytes to transport them to the contact as proof then arrange for delivery of the gold. The acolyte is told exactly what to say and to say no more. If the contact balks, then he is to refer him to speak with Roseaith herself on her return to the lair. As the acolyte leaves the group to meet the contact, Roseaith gives Iriisii some leftover clothes until something more suitable can be procured.

    The group finally arrives at the lair about a week later. The entrance is a carefully disguised mine opening, made to look rarely used. Once inside they proceed down the tunnel to a solid rock face. Triggering a switch placed within a hole in the side of the tunnel an arm's length inside the hole, the switch must be turned in the correct pattern, or a blade will remove the offending arm, and a carefully contrived rockfall in the ceiling will drop, crushing any others standing around. Roseaith takes her security seriously.

     By now the dosage of Black Lotus pollen powder has been determined and Iriisii will be kept compliant and suggestible, so she is allowed to go free from the cage. She is escorted to her new quarters, shown where the places she needs to be aware of are, training facilities, a dining hall, a healer's station, a fully functioning, self-contained, lair with all that is needed to minimize any contact with the outside world.

     Over the coming days, Iriisii's training is expanded from weapons and hand-to-hand to poisons, lockpicking, and even more stress on stealth. Roseaith tries to find any weaknesses in her previous training but finding none moves on to adding in everything else that an assassin's training requires. The speed at which Iriisii picks up the training is astounding and Roseaith attributes it to the Black Lotus removing Iriisii's inhibitions. She even gives Iriisii carefully tailored lessons in the seduction of both males and females, but is careful not to go too far and risk a moral conflict between any deep-seated moral teaching and the effects of the Black Lotus in going around such. At some point, if taken too far, Iriisii's inner morality could overpower the drug's effect and undo everything Roseaith has accomplished so far.

     Soon it will be time for her trials, that will be the time of decision, whether all of the work so far will take hold or if all hell will break loose if Iriisii breaks loose of the drug's hold.

     Iriisii stands on the sand-covered floor with seven other candidates. The two remaining after the trials are all that will proceed to field training and join with the pool of candidates from which entry into the ranks of the 'Seven' will be drawn from. The interesting fact now is that there are no field candidates right now, the pool having eliminated each other to fill the last vacancy caused by the death of number seven of the 'Seven' before he had even earned a new name.

     The lots are drawn, each one paired with another in a fight to the death. Each fight takes place where the combatants are alone so that nothing can be seen or known of who won and how they won. No advantage is to be given or discerned, all take their chances equally. Iriisii is told to choose her weapons and enter the 'pit'. In a move she instinctively makes, she passes by her trademark twin swords and chooses a two-handed dai-katana of Akaviri make. She notes the balance, weight, grip, and feel of the weapon in her hands. She mentally adjusts tactics, strength, and stamina needed as she runs through a quick battle kata to set her reflexes to the blade's needs.

     She enters the 'pit', a wall in the deep darkness around her, which will drop when the fight is to commence. She closes her eyes and enters a battle trance. Long did she labor under the drug's influence to learn how to initiate the trance in spite of the drug's effects. Under the trance, she will be able to find her opponent, know the weapon they chose, know their movements almost before they do, and be able to do all this and more in total darkness. In fact, the presence of light would be more hindrance than a help. In the dark, her eyes cannot be lied to, her other senses heightened, will tell her more truly what her opponent intends, and so she will do the unexpected and win.

     She hears the wall drop with nary any sound made, she felt the movement of air as gentle as a butterfly's wings caressing her skin. Her senses lock on her opponent, a male armed with a longsword. She will have reach on him, and so adjusts her plan. Her breath is very slow and gentle, not giving any indication of her location. She stands with sword held upright, her hands firmly holding the grip but not rigid. She patiently waits for the other to move, giving away his position.

    There he is, some twelve paces ahead and three paces to her left side. She moves slowly, placing each foot firmly before putting weight on it. Step by step, she moves closer to him, listening for his every move. She decides to come at him from his side, he will be expecting her to approach his back. She is now close enough that the very end of her sword can take him. She wants to move one or two more feet closer, and suddenly lights spring up all around the pit. She hears his gasp as the lights blind him.

     Keeping her eyes closed, she listens to where he is moving toward, anticipates where he will be, and changes from a decapitating swing to a forward lunge, taking him cleanly through his left lung and piercing his heart. She then pulls her sword back, makes a final strike to be certain, and hears his head fall to the sand. She pulls her sword upright in front of her and waits for the signal to end the fight. Continuing to listen for anything else that may occur, for the first lesson learned was to take nothing for granted in the 'pit'.

     Four now remain, she does not have to see to know that all three of the others are wounded. This might make them weaker, but also more dangerous. They will see no wounds on her, and so take that into account in their strategy against her. The 'Mother' watches, and observes but makes no sound, speaks no words. She will not speak until this round is over and two are left. Iriisii sees the glittering in her eyes even from this distance, and feels her enjoyment in watching the 'dance of death', but Iriisii feels nothing, this is what is expected of her, nothing less.

     The choices are made, two others will fight now, then Iriisii and her new opponent. Her time has come again, this time she makes a new choice of weapons, battleaxes. Her opponent will know of her predilection for blades, so something else they do not expect will help her. This time the sand has been replaced by crushed rock, not so easy to stay silent. She listens to hear any sounds from the other side, yes, directly opposite, about ten paces from the wall. Should she risk throwing a battleaxe as soon as the wall drops? No, if closer then yes, but better to wait and see what opening may occur.

     Light flares just as the wall drops, no darkness to fight by this time. Iriisii drops into a crouch, legs drawn, ready to spring in whatever direction is needed. Her opponent does not move, waiting for Iriisii to make the first step. This will be a fight of patience, then. Iriisii slowly uncoils her legs, easing herself into a neutral stance that she can maintain for hours if need be. Knees are slightly bent to allow blood to flow through the legs and onward, preventing the possibility of fainting, something that can happen if the knees are locked while standing.

     How does she know this? It is like this every now and then, some tidbit will surface in her mind. But she has learned to trust these snippets, for more than once they have saved her life.

     She runs possibilities through her mind, actions and reactions, strikes and blocks. What can her opponent do from where she is now, who has the true advantage? Iriisii is the epitome of calm and patience, waiting for her opponent, sending no body messages, not so her opponent.

     The desire to finish this is beginning to weigh on her opponent. Her muscles are clenching and releasing, trying to restore sluggish blood flow without moving and thus still telling Iriisii what she needs to know.

     Iriisii feels something rise up from the depths of her mind. A combat move that will take advantage of her opponent's condition and if not outright take her will set her up for the kill with the continuation of the move to its conclusion. When it has fully surfaced, she gives herself over to it, without conscious thought, she spins around gaining momentum, and slides into a forward roll, releasing one battleaxe as she comes upright from the roll. The axe flies toward her opponent, who watching its path, moves to the right of the throw, away from Iriisii's position. And right into the path of the second axe thrown at the anticipated position. It strikes dead center in her opponent's chest, shattering the breastbone and sending its deadly shards into her heart. Her opponent looks down at the axe protruding from her chest and falls face-first into the crushed rock.

     Now does the 'Mother' applaud Iriisii's kill, slowly clapping her hands together. 

     Roseaith: "Well done, indeed. She never saw the second axe coming, exactly as you intended. The misdirection was perfectly executed. A truly beautiful move and totally unexpected. This is the height of an assassin's craft. Everything you hold can be a weapon, every moment can be the time of the kill. But knowing the right weapon and the right time to kill is the difference between a common killer and an elite assassin. I welcome you into our fold, my young assassin. Come, I have a surprise for you and the other survivor."

     The two survivors of the trials stand before the 'Mother' in the great hall. In the seats on either side are the current crop of young acolytes, some who sought the lair out on their own, some sold to the 'Mother', some spoils of raids sent out to forcibly acquire recruits. The 'Mother' rose from her seat at the end of the hall.

     Roseaith: "Here you see before you, the two who have reached the next level in their training. Who have earned by their survival of the trials, the right to continue and accept contracts for our 'family'. They also have a most singular chance, the chance to advance into the ranks of 'the Seven'. Those known and feared across the whole of Nirn as the "Sinister Seven". And now I have the honor of announcing that an opening in the 'Seven' has occurred. One of them was killed while on a mission to Skyrim, the ones below have moved up in rank, and so the position of number seven waits to be filled.

     Filled with one of the two standing here before you all. You will now before all assembled here, do battle for the right to ascend and fill the empty position, for the 'Seven' must go on. Prepare yourselves and let all here witness this blessed event."

     Iriisii stands silent, eyes locked on the 'Mother' and her pronouncement. Slowly, she bows to the 'Mother', her eyes never leaving her face. She tunes out the noise of the young ones seated along the sides of the hall, she turns to look at the other survivor, who she must now kill. The other has stood stunned by the news, looking at Iriisii the entire time, expecting her to attack like some ravening beast. Iriisii knows this must be without weapons, and so moves into a hand-to-hand fighting stance waiting for the other to begin a new dance of death.

     With a scream of rage, the other jumps and starts the fight. Iriisii blocks and parries the quickly moving hand strikes. Using only the force needed to deflect the blows, she waits for an opportunity to make itself known. She sees what she wants to see, and threads a flat palm thrust between the other's arms and strikes directly above the heart. The other backs up from the blow, her heart struggling to regain its rhythm. The other then slowly paces around Iriisii, looking for an opening to exploit, while her heart recovers from the strike.

     Another series of strikes, some blocked, others simply avoided, Iriisii makes it look almost effortless, which enrages her opponent, and a mistake is made, and another opening presents itself.

     Iriisii sends a strike with her right foot in her opponent's midsection, driving the breath from her while putting her on the floor some six feet away. The acolytes' feet are stamping on the floor in rhythm, but Iriisii does not hear, so perfect is her control of her senses.

     The 'Mother' pulls a dagger from her side and tosses it into the air between the two of them. Just as her opponent jumps into the air and grabs the dagger, Iriisii lands another foot on her, this time spinning her as she falls to the floor. Iriisii's opponent is face down on the floor, as she approaches warily, she uses her foot to turn her opponent over face up. As she turns, all notice her hand grasping the hilt of the dagger, the dagger that is buried to the hilt in her gut. Her opponent knows she is dead, it is just a matter of time. In severe pain, in a low voice, she asks Iriisii to end her life and her pain.

     Iriisii looks toward the 'Mother' for her decision. The 'Mother' takes a few seconds to consider, then does not give the 'thumb's up' or 'thumb's down', but rather waves Iriisii away, indicating for Iriisii to let the other suffer her death, however long it takes. Iriisii moves away, turns, and approaches the 'Mother'. Once she is about ten feet away, she bows and goes to kneel before the 'Mother'. Roseaith rises and walks down the steps from her dias to stand next to Iriisii.

     Roseaith: "Look upon Iriisii, all of you. Look upon she who has won her place as one of the 'Seven'. She who shows what is required to win that place, unwavering obedience, unparalleled skills, and matchless respect. All of those who reach this rank, choose a name to be called within the family. I would like to choose your name for you at this time, my child."

     Irrisii looks up at Roseaith, "please give me my family name, 'Mother'."

     Roseaith: "As you have requested my child, now and forever more be known to the family as 'Darkstar'."

                                                                          *

     Things in the 'Sinister Seven' lair have settled down into somewhat of a routine. Training is still going on for the acolytes, upper-level assassins are receiving advanced training and minor contracts. The members of the 'Seven' are getting their 'marching orders' from the 'Mother'. Since Iriisii is now among the 'Seven', she is taking minor contracts on her own and going with other 'Seven' members on their contracts. This is not exactly 'welcome' from the other members of the 'Seven', who resent having to 'baby watch' Darkstar.

     Roseaith: "Listen to me all of you 'dung heaps'! I hand out the orders here, you do as I say or face me in the 'pit'! If you do not think 'Darkstar' is up for the task, you may certainly challenge her in the 'pit' yourself! But you know the rules of the 'pit', if you lose, you do not come back out!"

     There is some low mumbling, growling, and muttering but no one stands to challenge either 'Darkstar' or the 'Mother' in a 'pit' challenge. All the while this is going on, 'Darkstar' is in a stoic stand, calmly taking in the barrage of insults and epithets that the 'Mother' is dishing out to the others.

     'Volcano': "Why do you talk to us like you do and not her?"

     Roseaith: "Because she does whatever I ask of her and gives me no backtalk about it! Perhaps you would like to rejoin my good graces and take on the job I have in mind for her, alone, as I intend to send her!"

     'Volcano': "What job is this? Shaking her ass in front of the priest over at the temple in Folgur, to see if he can get it up?"

     Roseaith: "No, I have word of an outpost just set up by the Morag Tong over on the southeastern coast. My informant says the 'Mute's' second is in command! He is to have at least one hundred members on site! Well? Are you game to try it, lava brain?"

     The Volcano backs down on hearing the number of Morag Tong he would be up against, and if one was the 'Mute's' second in command, well, suicide is not his strong suit.

     Roseaith: "I did not think so. Does anyone else want a crack at it before I send her? Killer Frost? Tide? Then I assume that the issue is settled. Upon successful completion, she will be considered settled in her position."

     Father: "What is the proof she is to bring back?"

     Roseaith: "The head of 'Mute's' second. I want his skull to decorate one of the posts of my bed, so as I go to sleep, I can look at it and know the Morag Tong will think twice before coming back to our shores."

     Father: "What is to stop the 'Mute' from portaling in, doing whatever damage he wishes, then portaling back out?"

     Roseaith: "Because there will be a message in blood left for him when he comes to find out what happened. He is Tang Mo, and they are still very superstitious. I have outlined a particular 'mandala' to be drawn in the blood and body parts of the dead Tong. Something along the lines of what the ancient Alyeids did in their blood gardens, but this is not 'art' but a 'blood curse', one specific to the Tang Mo, one he will not risk having dropped on him. I expect with his 'second' dead and that 'blood curse' waiting to be activated, he will not hang around or show his hairy face here ever again. Now if there is nothing else, you all have work to perform, I must give 'Darkstar' the details of this job, so no more pointless interruptions."

     After the others have left for their assigned tasks, Roseaith takes Darkstar over to a planning table where a model of the outpost and environs has been set up.

     Roseaith: "This is the Morag Tong outpost, study it, note where the entries are, and use your judgment as to how you enter. Once inside, the job is simple, kill everyone you find, take this diagram, and use the blood and body parts of your kills to create it. I will leave it up to you, if you wish to leave it as a warning, then do nothing more.

     If you wish to enable it, then add this potion to the blood as you work it, then get out quickly. If you are there too long after using the potion, your presence will trigger it, and you really do not want to be there when that happens.

     Be sure and take the head of the 'Mute's' second, you will know him as he will be the only Tang Mo present until the 'Mute' arrives. Just look for the hairy monkey face, that will be him. Once you are done, look for a place to observe the outpost from, quietly and hidden. Wait for no more than two days and nights, if the 'Mute' has not shown up by then, return here with the head. If he does show, you will know from what happens. I do not expect it to kill him, he is too good unless he gets careless, but he will get the message. Go and get some sleep, travel at night, to and back. Any questions?"

     Darkstar shakes her head, no.

     Roseaith: "Good, I know this sounds like a suicide mission. For one of those others, it likely would be, but not for you. You have the skills to do it, I know you will not fail, and it will prove to the others that you are to be feared and respected. They likely will not like your success, but they had the chance to take it and did not, so they will have no right to look down their noses at you after this. I will see you when you return."

     Darkstar turns and quietly walks out of the great hall with no sound of her footsteps to echo from the walls.

     Roseaith whispers to herself: "There walks a true assassin, may she strike fear in the hearts of all she hunts from this day forth, be they man, mer, gods, or demons, let them know fear at the approach of Darkstar!"

    Two weeks of night travel, holing up in the day, avoiding people, homes, farms, towns, and cities. Darkstar lies atop a rocky bluff, hearing the crash of ocean waves against the rocks below. She is watching the Morag Tong outpost, memorizing each detail, the route and timing of the guards, who comes and goes, and using which gates. As night falls, she notes the placement of braziers and torches, where the shadows are, and waits for the guard to change. Then to see who is lax and who is alert.

      As the details pile up in her mind, a path to her goal forms, she can kill all of the outside guards well before the next change, thus giving her ample time to make her way inside and then the savagery will begin. For then the Morag Tong will know the terror that their victims have known for centuries. Ironic justice will come to those who kill in Mephala's name.

     Once she is up on the walls of the outpost, it is almost laughingly easy to take them down one by one. They do not expect or think anyone would dare to cross them and so they are simply fodder to remove on the way to the real objective. She opens a trapdoor in the floor of one of the corner towers, no torches near to cast a warning of light, no moonlight to shine at the wrong moment.

     Carefully she places her weight on the rungs and closes the trapdoor, holding her position as she hears a patrol walk by underneath her. She uses the light from their torch to take in the layout of the floor below her, where any obstructions are, any hazards to walk into or trip over. Silently she drops down and follows at a distance, again using their light to her advantage.

     Once it is apparent their route has been mapped, she wraps the shadows around herself and sinks into the dark. The guards pass by without noticing that their torch is not illuminating that one patch of shadow, until she emerges from that shadow and drops first the one behind the torchbearer, and then the one holding the torch, taking it from his hands as he falls to the floor, her slender knife blade having severed his spine as she thrust it upward into his brain from the point where the skull sits atop the spine.

     Then in earnest, she begins the task of killing all of the Morag Tong in the place. Those awake and on patrol first, then those asleep in their bunks. She wonders if those leading the Morag Tong sent the worst they had over here, for none it seemed had the slightest inkling anything was amiss, but she still had to find her main target, and so she continued looking around as the body count increased.

     She made her way all the way down into the depths before she found the 'Mute's' second, overseeing the torture and questioning of a captive. She patiently waits before going on to see what they want to know and if it would have any value to the 'Mother'. Ah!, so it seems they are looking for the 'Seven's' lair, do they intend to do a preemptive strike? It seems she must take a bit of time and find this out. It could most certainly be important.

     Weighing her options, she takes a 'flying star' blade from a sash carrying more and applies a mild paralysis poison to it. Then she sends it on its way to strike the 'second', incapacitating him while she takes care of the torturers and their victims. But first, she has a few questions for the victim, pretending to get him free, she asks how did the Morag Tong know to capture and torture him for the information they wanted.

     Grateful for his rescue, he tells her everything he knows before she cuts his throat. Placing the 'second' on the torturer's table and securing him. She waits for the poison to wear off.

     Songil: "Do you not know who I am and who I work for? You have just made the last mistake you will ever make in the short time you have left to live."

     The 'second' looks at her in the flickering light of the brazier holding hot irons and other tools of the trade.

     Songil: "Wait, just who are you? Who sent you here?"

     Darkstar just waits patiently for his situation to sink into his brain and the bargaining for his life to begin.

     Songil: "Again, I ask who are you? I believe I am correct that you work for the "Sinister Seven", only they would have the audacity to attack this outpost, but where are the others, surely they would not send a lone assassin on a mission like this. I have over a hundred men and women, trained assassins all, here at my command."

     Darkstar: "Had."

     Songil: "What? What did you just say?"

     Darkstar looks at him with a daring smile, "you had over a hundred men and women. Now there is just you."

     Songil: "Impossible! You must be lying, there is no way you could have killed all of them without someone raising the alarm!"

     From a patch of darkness on the other side of the room, a low, female voice, slithers across the ears of the 'second' and Darkstar.

     Mephala: "Shut up you fool! You are dead now and do not even realize it! She did indeed take out every last one of those you brought here and did it in such a way as to draw my attention to her, although I think that was not her intention. No, I sense she had something else in mind, but what? Ah yes, exquisite, truly worthy of the effort you expended to set such a trap."

     Songil: "Mistress!?!"

     Mephala: "I will not say it again, quiet! There is no hope for you, now. The least you can do is meet your death with some honor and dignity if you have anything of those qualities remaining in your worthless carcass. You fell to your doom before the one called 'Darkstar'."

     Songil sputters as he realizes just what situation he is in.

     Mephala: "Would you be a dear and finish him off, so that we may converse without interruption. I tire of his unacceptance of his position, besides which he deserves his fate for his incompetence as an assassin."

     Darkstar saying nothing nods her head to the shadow where Mephala's voice is speaking from, turns to the 'second' on the table, and snaps his neck with a quick twist of her hands.

     Mephala: "A good choice of death, he did not deserve the dignity of dying by a blade wielded by one such as you. You are very interesting, there are so many flavors I sense swirling about you. My, now that is fascinating, you have the attention of both Gods and Demons, to have both vying for your favor, I wonder why?"

     Darkstar remains silent but listens intently to Mephala's words, sensing the importance of careful understanding of everything she says.

     Mephala: "Yes, you are silent, but you listen far better than many who serve me. If I thought it possible to bring you to my side, I would do so in the fleeting beat of a dying heart. But even my limited farsight tells me you are fated for things it would be in my interest not to deter you from.

     And so you have naught to fear from me directly, my minions however do not always listen to me when it would serve their interests to do so. Should they get in your way, you are free to deal with them in whatever way you wish, I will not interfere. If they are so stupid as to get in your way, they deserve whatever fate you give them. I will leave you to the task you have immediately before you, as to your later tasks and destinies, I will be watching with great interest."

     And so, Darkstar feels Mephala's presence withdraw from her, and she goes about fulfilling the task the 'Mother' set for her, considering it might be for the best if she says nothing of her conversation with Mephala. After all, nothing was said concerning the 'Mother' in that conversation.

     Darkstar finishes applying the potion the 'Mother' gave her to the mandala of blood and body parts. Suddenly her intuition tells her that it would be best to put some distance between it and her. She keeps moving further away until her intuition indicates she is far enough away, she then notes she is back at her previous vantage point. So she settles down to wait and see what happens.

     Her wait continues on for hours into the dusk. She swears that she feels a faint vibration in the air, coming alert she keeps her attention on the outpost. There is the sound of a heavy 'whump' and a giant fireball completely engulfs the outpost. Maintaining her level of alertness, she again feels the vibration she felt earlier, this time it is behind her. Turning and moving away at an angle to her previous position, she sees the portal come into being and a furred figure walks out from it.

     She knows this must be the 'Mute', so she remains in her ready state, calm, and able to move into attack or defense in a fraction of a second. The 'Mute's' eyes scan the area and settle on her, then look for signs of anyone else having been there. Since Darkstar had no specific orders from the 'Mother' concerning the 'Mute', she stands back and waits for him to act, confident she could read him and act accordingly faster than he could change course.

     The Mute: "You are alone."

     Darkstar simply nods her head, keeping her eyes on the 'Mute' at all times.

     The Mute: "You did this?"

     Darkstar again nods her head, never taking her eyes from the 'Mute'.

     The Mute: "Why?"

     Darkstar: "The Morag Tong are not welcome here."

     The Mute: "The Morag Tong go where they will."

     Darkstar: "Not here."

     The Mute: "You know I must kill you for this?"

     Darkstar: "Ask your Mistress, first."

     The Mute: "My Mistress?"

     Darkstar: "Mephala"

     The Mute: "What do you know of Mephala?"

     Darkstar: "I spoke with her down in the depths of the outpost, after capturing your second. She bade me kill him for he was not worthy in her eyes to continue living."

     The Mute: "YOU LIE!"

     Darkstar: "Ask her."

     The Mute: "I WILL KILL YOU!"

     Again Darkstar feels the presence of Mephala, and so makes no move against the 'Mute'.

     Mephala: "STOP WORM! Take one more step and I will allow her to kill you.

     The Mute: "Mistress."

     Mephala: "That is more like it. Every word she has spoken has been true."

     The Mute looks incredulously at Darkstar.

     Mephala: "Yes, she did the deed alone, and so I felt glad that she had exposed their weakness to me. Just as you came so close to doing yourself. Her control of herself is far greater than you have of yourself. You could learn much from her as to what it means to be an assassin. Her entire life has been walking on the razor's edge between light and dark. Her skills are unmatched and she has yet to reach the pinnacle of what she can accomplish.

     What will she be when she reaches that point? A God? It is a future possibility within the timelines that branch from here. But she does not let that fog her mind. Right here, right now, you and I are her entire world. What will you do, will I allow you to do what you want, even at the cost of your life? Make a move toward her now and she will kill you, and I will allow it."

     The Mute: "Mistress!"

     Mephala: "She is of far more value to me, walking her own path in the world than you could ever be following my every command. So now you see the truth. Do you not remember the words, 'for as good as you believe yourself to be, there is someone out in the world better than you will ever be'. You have just met the one better than you will ever be, and if you are lucky, you will come away from the encounter alive. Darkstar, you have earned my thanks and my respect for the manner in which you have conducted yourself. I am not done with this servant, yet, if he had attacked you, I would expect you to defend yourself and kill him. Mute, have I made myself clear?"

     The Mute: "Yes, Mistress."

     Mephala: "Good. Return to Morrowind and be thankful you still have your life. Darkstar, when you fully come into your power, remember me and this day."

     Darkstar bows to where she feels Mephala to be and before she is straight again, Mephala is gone. She watches as the 'Mute' activates a portal and steps through. Only when she feels all trace of both gone from the area does she turn and begin the trek back to the lair, with the "Mother's" trophy in hand.