Not A Hero

(October, 2009)

 Teresa woke with her head ringing like a Nord was playing the drums inside of her skull with a hammer. What in Oblivion had happened? she wondered. All she could remember was she had woken up in her Waterfront squat in the late afternoon, gone to the Talos Plaza district looking for food, and found an apple in the refuse pile behind the Tiber Septim hotel. It had barely even been bruised, she now remembered. Then... nothing.  

 She ran a hand through her long brown hair, feeling for bumps or bruises. Yet she found none, although she was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. Rubbing the sleep from her green eyes, the pale Bosmer felt the pain in her head start to ease and looked around to see where she was.

 She quickly realized that it was a prison cell. It was large, and decorated with very serviceable-looking iron chains and manacles that hung from one of its stone walls. A rickety wooden table sat along another wall with a simple plate and cup haphazardly thrown across it, and an equally ragged stool sat next to it. A flickering light came from torches guttering in the hall outside, and Teresa rose to walk to the door of solid iron bars that barred her exit.

 "Well now, a pretty little Wood Elf. You're a little far from the forest, huh?" The sarcastic voice came from a Dunmer she saw in the cell across the hall from her. "Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end. To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat-infested hole like this... how very sad."

 Teresa snorted to herself. She had never set foot outside the Imperial City, let alone frolicked in any woodland. This guy was a complete idiot, she thought, and did not even bother trying to speak to him. Instead she pressed her willowy frame against the iron bars and found them to be as unrelenting as she had expected them to be. Pressing her head against the door, she craned her head from one side to another to see what lay beyond. Yet nothing but empty stone corridor stretched off to the left, and an equally empty stone stair lead up and out of sight on the right side.

 "Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you. Pretty soon you'll go mad, and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting," The Dunmer prisoner continued in an icy voice. "That's right. You're going to die in here, and I am going to watch every moment and savor it."

 This guy had clearly been in here too long, Teresa thought. He had cracked.

 Then the sound of metal scraping metal and hard-soled boots stamping on the stone floor came to her ears. Teresa knew that sound from a lifetime of experience. The Imperial Legion was coming.

 Teresa stepped back as a group of legionaries walked up to the door of her cell and peered inside. Then she started in surprise. These were no ordinary soldiers or watchmen. Their armor was bright silver and decorated with gold, not the dull brown plate of the Legion. The first was a dark-skinned Redguard, and behind him came a Breton woman, who carried a long curved sword in her hand, rather than the usual straight longsword the Legion favored. More figures stood behind them, but Teresa could not make them out.

 "There is someone in here," the Redguard said, glancing back at his companions. "There must have been some kind of foul up with the Watch. This cell is supposed to always be empty."

 "Oh well, nothing for it now," the Breton woman muttered, then stared directly at Teresa with eyes that could freeze a Daedra. "Step back to the far wall prisoner, or I will send you to Oblivion right now!"

 Teresa believed her. These were not the usual soldiers she was used to dealing with on the street. They were something altogether different. She stepped back to the wall opposite the door and was careful not to move.

 The Redguard unlocked the door and stepped inside. He walked directly across the room to where Teresa stood and stopped an arm's length away. Just far enough for him to easily draw and swing his sword. Teresa noted. The Breton followed and walked over to the wall behind the Redguard. She did something to one of the stones there that Teresa could not see, and suddenly the entire wall slid away with a grating of stone on stone, revealing a dark passage beyond.

 That is when the third member of the party entered, giving Teresa her first good look at him. He was an old man, slender and shorter than even herself. He wore a robe of brocade, whose gold and silver threads glistened in the torchlight, and which was decorated with white fur that bunched around his shoulders like a lion's mane. What Teresa really noticed however, was the amulet that hung around his neck, which held a ruby larger than she had ever imagined might exist.

 "It is you..." he said, staring at Teresa and moving up to her, closer than even the Redguard stood. "I've seen you... Let me see your face... You are the one from my dreams, Teresa... Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

 Teresa looked at him with a dumbfounded stare. She did not have to guess who this man was, or what that necklace was. He was the Emperor, Uriel Septim, and that was the Amulet of Kings. Everyone in the Cyrodiil knew the amulet. It was on every statue of every emperor, going back to Saint Alessia herself.

 "Sir, we have no time," the Redguard warned as another soldier entered the room behind and stood at the doorway watching the way they came. "We have to get moving before the assassins find us."

 Teresa was stunned. The Emperor himself was talking to her, a lowly street urchin! Somehow he even knew her face, knew her name. Her world spun. This could not be happening! she thought. It just could not be real. She did not know what to say. But even if she had, it would not have mattered, as her voice had deserted her.

 After that the three bodyguards ushered the Emperor through the secret passage in the wall of her cell. The Breton warned her to stay out of their way, or else. But the Redguard mumbled something about it being her lucky day.

 *          *          *

 Teresa stood there and tried to understand what she had just seen. That was the Emperor! she thought in amazement. On the run from assassins given what the Redguard had said. She stared down the open passageway as the sound of their boots became quieter. What in Tamriel was going on? First she woke up in a cell with no idea of how she got there, and then the Emperor himself came tromping through? This was insane, she thought.

 Insane or not, the secret passage was her only chance out of prison. In the end that was all that Teresa really needed to know. Shadow hide me, she thought, then moved down the darkened passage while trying as best she could to not make a sound.

 At first it was nothing more than a tunnel roughly hewn through the ground. But soon it let out into an area of dusty stone chambers and passageways. The entire area seemed empty and dead, like an abandoned tomb.

 The sound of fighting came to Teresa's ears, and she stopped in the darkness for a moment. It seemed distant, so she moved forward more quietly and purposely than before. She wanted to know what was happening, but did not want anyone seeing her doing it.

 Soon enough she was able to glimpse dark figures struggling in a large chamber in front of her. It was the bodyguards she had seen before, their swords flashing in the air against an unseen foe. A single, smaller figure hung back, holding a sword in his hand. The Emperor, Teresa guessed.

 Whoever the enemy was, the bodyguards - The Blades - Teresa now remembered they were called, drove them off. She heard them say something about losing someone, and they seemed to be standing around a body for a moment. Then they moved on down the passage in haste.

 Teresa followed more slowly. She found that it was the Breton they had been talking about losing, for her body lay sprawled on the chamber floor. Teresa bent to take her weapon, but found that her sword was gone. One of the other Blades must have taken it, she thought. She looked at the other bodies in the room, they were human, she saw, clad in red hooded robes. These must be the assassins she thought. Strange, she saw no weapons in their dead hands or on the floor nearby, but she could have sworn that the figures she had seen had been armed...

 She continued to follow through the empty passages, being sure to keep her distance. Several more times she heard the sound of combat ahead, and waited until it had passed before moving forward again. Each time she came upon more of the red-robed bodies. So apparently the Emperor and his bodyguards were winning, she thought. At least for the most part.

 Teresa began to think that she was sneaking with the silence and grace of The Grey Fox as she shadowed them. That is until she came around a corner to find the Redguard Blade standing over her with his sword ready to fall.

 "Eeep!" Teresa squealed, and fell on her backside as she tried to jump away. The Blade just stood there with a look of disgust on his face, and lowered his sword.

 "It's just that prisoner following us," he spat, not taking his eyes off Teresa. "Not the assassins."

 "We should kill her," the other Blade insisted. "We do not know if she is in it with them."

 "Nonsense!" the Emperor declared. Teresa could swear that his voice could level mountains, given the weight of power and authority it carried. "Bring her here Baurus."

 The Redguard reached out with his free hand, and without showing the merest trace of effort grabbed Teresa's tunic and pulled her to her feet. Then grasping her arm in that iron grip, he walked her to where the Emperor waited.

 "My path will soon end Teresa," the Emperor said to her, his voice now quieter and less overwhelming. "I have seen it in the stars, and in my dreams. But your path will go on. I know that you have an important part to play in this."

 "I...um....I...." Teresa stammered, feeling like an idiot, then finally got her tongue to work. "I'm just a street rat. There is nothing I can do."

 "You have no idea what you can do," the Emperor said with a quiet smile. "But I do."

 "She will come with us from now on," the Emperor said, turning to look at Baurus. "Now let us move on."

 "Make yourself useful and carry this torch," Baurus said, releasing his grip on her arm and handing her a flaming brand. "I do not know what the Emperor sees in you, but he believes in you, and that is good enough for me."

 Teresa followed along, now part of Emperor Uriel Septim's entourage. Part of his bodyguard, she mentally corrected herself. Me, she thought, a nothing orphan living on the street, protecting the Emperor from assassins. Who would ever believe this?

 Her hand shook as she held the torch aloft to light their path. But she moved ahead. The Emperor commanded it, and as much as she hated the Legion, Teresa knew she would do anything that man asked of her. He had a strange power. He did not make her feel afraid, as the legionaries and the Blades did. Rather he made her feel..., something she could not explain, even to herself. She only knew that he was like no man she had ever met, or likely ever would again.

*          *          *

 They came to a dead end, the passage barred ahead of them by an iron gate that was locked from the other side. They backtracked to a side chamber that Baurus had noticed, and Teresa waited inside with the Emperor as Baurus and the other Blade went out to scout down another passage.

 "I know this place," the Emperor said in a harsh whisper, his eyes casting around the small room. "I have seen it."

 "My end his here," he said matter-of-factly, turning to face Teresa. "Your stars are not mine however Teresa. You still have a destiny ahead of you."

 "I don't know what you mean sir, um, your majesty," Teresa said, feeling overwhelmed. "I'm not a hero..."

 "No you are not. Not yet," the Emperor said with his eyes locked onto hers. She tried to pull away from his stare, but she found she could not. His eyes drew hers like a lodestone. "It is our choices in life that define us. Everything we do, or do not do, makes us what we are, makes the world what it is. Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better. Your choices lie ahead of you, starting this night. Whatever choices you make, you will have to live with them for the rest of your days. So make them wisely."

 Teresa had heard much the same before, from the priestesses and priests of the Nine when they made their monthly tour of the slums to save the souls of Teresa and the other hooligans like her. Yet where they always sounded like pompous hypocrites, every word the Emperor said struck home deeply within her. Somehow because he said it, something within her wanted to believe that it was true.

 "The time has almost come," the Emperor said with resignation, and lifted the Amulet of Kings from his shoulders and placed it in her hand. "Take this. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find the last of my sons."

 "But surely Baurus should..." Teresa stammered, staring down at the gigantic ruby in her hand.

 "Baurus cannot. Our enemy knows too much about me. They know him. They even know this secret passage well enough to lay a trap for me here," the Emperor insisted, and taking her hand he pushed the amulet into one of the pockets in her sackcloth breeches. "You they do not know. You can pass by them unnoticed. You must do this. No one else can. Take the amulet to Jauffre and let nothing stop you. Everything hangs in the balance."

 Just then the wall opened up behind him, and Teresa stood motionless in shock as she saw a man in red robes emerge, raising one hand in the air. A yellow glow erupted from his fingers and fell in a ring around his body. A moment later he was clad in what looked like metal armor, yet nothing a mortal smith would construct. In one hand he now held a wavy bladed dagger that looked more like the tooth of some monstrous Daedra than an ordinary weapon.

 The Emperor pushed Teresa back out of the way and drew his sword. But he was old, and too slow. The armored assassin was upon him in an instant, and the next thing Teresa knew the great man's body was falling to the stone tiles in a fountain of blood.

 Something happened to Teresa then, which had never happened before. Looking from the dead body of the Emperor to the assassin who had claimed his life, her terror washed away only to be replaced by something in her heart that was dark, cold, and furious.

 Without a second thought she picked up the sword from beside the Emperor's body and rose to meet his killer. The assassin's dagger flashed down, and without flinching Teresa raised her hand to meet it. Its hard blade pierced her palm straight through and stuck tight in her bones. She did not make a sound however, or even flinch as she thrust the sword up into the belly of the assassin. She was vaguely aware of him screaming as she twisted the blade and drew it back out. A moment later she stabbed him again, and this time tilted the blade upward and pushed it behind his ribs.

 The assassin crumpled in a heap beside the Emperor, his armor and dagger vanishing in a swirl of red light. With an effort Teresa pulled the sword from his body and stabbed him again and again with it, thinking nothing of her wound, or anything else in the world. She heard a woman shrieking, and it was not until Baurus pulled the sword from her hand and lifted her to her feet that she realized it was her.

*          *          *

 "We've failed, I've failed..." Teresa heard Baurus sigh as the world came back into focus, and with it the pain in her hand. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all of his heirs are dead."

 "Not all of them," Teresa was more surprised than anyone to hear herself say. "There is one other. Someone named Jauffre knows who it is."

 "Another son?" said Baurus, eyes widening in surprise. "Jauffre is the head of our order, if the Emperor entrusted anyone with that knowledge, it would be him. But how do you know?"

 "The Emperor told me," Teresa said, looking down at his still form. She felt tears welling in her eyes, and it took every ounce of her will to resist them. Her heart was still racing from the battle, and she could not stop the trembling throughout her body, or the tired feeling creeping into her limbs.

 Baurus' eyes followed hers, and a moment later he tossed the bloody sword of the Emperor aside and dropped to the floor beside the body. For a moment Teresa thought he was indeed going to start weeping. But then she saw he was running his hands through the folds in the old man's robe.

 "The Amulet of Kings!" he hissed, "where is it!"

 Teresa blinked at the sudden change of his demeanor, but only for a moment. Then she drew the amulet from her pocket and held it out to him.

 "He gave it to me," she said, looking back down on the Emperor. "He said I should take it to Jauffre. He said no one else could."

 "The Emperor said that?" Baurus asked, rising back to his feet. He placed one hand over Teresa's own and gently pushed the amulet back to her breast. "Then you must do as he said."

 "How? I saw it all happen, right in front of my eyes. I couldn't stop it...." now she did begin to cry, "I just can't do this."

 "The Emperors see things, know things, that lesser men cannot," Baurus explained. "They say it is the dragon blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. If he said so, then you must go to Jauffre."

 "But I do not even know where to find him!" she exclaimed, and cried out as a white bolt of pain lanced through her wounded hand. "Look at me. Do I look like a warrior?"

 "Here, take this healing potion, it is the last one I have left." Baurus said, reaching into a pouch at his waist and drawing forth a blue vial.

 But Teresa waved him off with her good hand, still clutching the Amulet of Kings in it. Concentrating upon the healing spell that one of the priestesses of Mara had taught her during their monthly rounds, she drew her magicka up from within her and poured it into her rent hand with a flash of white light. The flesh closed around the wound, but she could still feel pain throbbing deep within her palm. Once more she cast the spell, then twice again, until finally the pain stopped.

 "Oh you're a stubborn one aren't you," Baurus said with what Teresa thought might be a tinge of respect, something that she was not accustomed to hearing in other people's voices. "Good. It looks like there is more to you than you give yourself credit for."

 "Yeah," Teresa muttered, staring from her hand to the body of the assassin. "It's been a night of surprises alright."

 She had never killed anyone in her life, nor even seriously imagined doing so. Yet here a man, and a hardened killer to be certain, lay dead at her own hand, Teresa thought. She did not feel the slightest twinge of regret, except that she had not been able to kill him sooner.

 But it did seem strange to her. She could barely remember any of it. She could not even recall consciously deciding to pick up the sword and attack the assassin. All she could remember was the outrage that she felt at seeing the Emperor die. Somehow it had just taken control of her. Teresa had never thought she had that kind of anger in her, yet she had never met anyone like Emperor Uriel Septim before either.

 "You will have to get off the Imperial Island and go west, to Weynon Priory. It is just outside of Chorrol," Baurus said. "Stay off the roads, we don't know if the assassins will be looking. They probably would not know you anyway, but at this point we cannot take any more chances."

 "What about you, and the other man?" Teresa said, looking for the last Blade, who was nowhere in sight.

 "He's dead," Baurus stated plainly, nudging the assassin's body with his boot. "We were ambushed while this one here did his work."

 "I have to stay here with the Emperor's body," Baurus continued. "I will cover your escape in case there are more."

 "You should come with me," Teresa reasoned. "I have never been outside the city. If I run into trouble in the wilderness..."

 "No," Baurus shook his head. "Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am that I am sending an escaped prisoner off with the Amulet of Kings. But the Emperor trusted you, and I trust him. Besides, the assassins know who I am, and they know my place is by the Emperor's side, even if he is dead. If they see me running to Weynon they will know something is happening. They will suspect there is a last Septim that they missed. They must never know that."

 Teresa nodded. His logic was inescapable. She put the amulet back in her pocket and leaned down to pick up the sword the Emperor had been carrying. It was a plain steel longsword, the kind any legionary might use. It hardly seemed like the weapon of an Emperor.

 "You will need that. It belonged to a watchman who tried to help us in the prison," said Baurus, who then dug a heavy iron key from one of his belt pouches and handed it to Teresa. "Take this too. It will open the grate at the sewer exit. That is where we had been going. By the smell of that secret passage, it leads there too. Now you had better get going."

 Teresa nodded. Gripping the longsword in one hand, she wiped the tears and blood from her face with the other. Then she headed down the passage that the assassin had come from.

 "Talos guide you," she heard Baurus say behind her.

*          *          *

 Baurus had been right; the passage led directly to the sewers. It was a place of dark, wet stone. Wet with what Teresa would rather not think about. The smell was bad enough. Occasional pools of light fell from grates in the ceiling high above, illuminating narrow walkways that hugged the walls of the tunnel, while a wide channel of water and sludge flowed down its center. She followed the tunnel down the direction the water was flowing, reasoning that it must empty into the lake.

 Teresa soon found that she was not alone in the dark tunnel. When she first heard the sounds she thought it must be more of the assassins. But she soon learned that was in fact something else entirely as she sneaked closer. These creatures walked upright like people, but were short and hunched over, with misshapen heads and limbs. There were several of them gathered around what looked to be a body that lay on one of the walkways, and they seemed to be looting it.

 Teresa was glad she had left the torch behind, otherwise the creatures would have seen her. She was not sure just what they were. She thought they might be goblins. But she had never seen one, so she could not be sure. She did know that there were three of them and only one of her however, so the last thing she wanted was a fight, even though she was larger than any of them.

 The problem was there was no other way for her to go except through them. There had been no side-passages behind her, only this one straight tunnel. So she waited in the shadows, hoping they would not see her. As she watched, she saw that they were definitely looting a body.

 One lifted something above its head, and Teresa's heart leaped. By the shape, it was a strung bow. She actually knew how to use that, thanks to long hours of practice with her fellow street rat and archer Methredhel. If she could get her hands on that, she thought, she might be able to do something against them.

 Then another of the creatures lifted a small pouch from the body, and Teresa could hear the distinctive jingling of coins from within. The other two creatures both stopped what they were doing and looked at the first. Then almost as if on cue they dropped what they were holding and all grabbed for the pouch with a host of eager squeals.

 Teresa tucked the longsword into her belt, hoping that its blade would not slice it to ribbons. Then she concentrated on the Flare spell that Methredhel had also taught her, so that all she needed to do was let the magicka flow when she wanted to use it. While the creatures played tug of war with the coins she sneaked closer. They were becoming rough, and one jumped over the body and landed atop the first creature, sending both of them sprawling in the direction opposite from Teresa. The third followed a moment later, leaving the way to the body, and the bow, wide open.

 This was her chance! Teresa thought. No longer trying to be sneaky, she ran up and grabbed the bow. When she drew near she also saw a bag of arrows laying on the walkway beside the body. She caught that up in her free hand as well, and as one of the creatures turned to look at her, she sped back down the tunnel in the direction from which she came.

 She heard the squealing of the creatures behind her take on a new tone, and a moment later the sound of pounding feet echoed in the tunnel behind her. The footsteps had an odd scratching sound to them, like the footsteps of a cat or dog on a hard floor. Racing back to the first turn of the tunnel, she stopped and dropped the bag of arrows, deftly catching one in her hand as the rest fell to the ground.

 Her heart pounded in her chest as she raised the bow and nocked the arrow on its string, silently thanking the Nine that neither had gotten wet in the sewage. She did not really think about what she was doing; hours of practice had taught her body to do what was needed. Drawing the string back to her ear with every ounce of strength in her arms and shoulders, she briefly sighted the arrow at the center of the first dark shape coming down the tunnel and loosed.

 Wasting no time to see if she had hit, she anxiously bent down to yank another arrow from the bag. A high-pitched scream came from down the hall, and a moment later she heard a loud splash. She rose and pulled the bow to full tension once more, noticing a thrashing in the water in the center of the tunnel. She ignored it, and just as before quickly sighted her arrow at what looked like the center of the dark shape of the second creature ahead and loosed.

 She felt that same cold rage inside her that she had felt when fighting the assassin. Only this time it was not so all-consuming, not to so personal. This time it was a hard serpent in her chest wanting to strike out and kill. Hard enough to steady the tremble that Teresa could feel ready to course through her frame, and cold enough drown out the thundering of blood in her ears. She let that cold anger drive her as she reached for a third arrow.

 But the second creature did not go down as the first did, and before she could draw her bow another time it was upon her. Teresa saw a short blade glittering in its hand, and now panic did flood through her. With a scream she threw her hands up in front of her, reflexively turning loose the magicka within her as she did.

 The bolt of fire illuminated the sewer in red light, briefly giving Teresa her first good look at her enemies. They were green-skinned creatures, having huge ears and elongated skulls packed with teeth. Their arms were bony and terminated with clawed fingers, and their legs were similarly thin, ending in bare feet tipped by claws.

 The goblin - as Teresa was now certain it must be - gave out a short scream that cut off in mid exhale. The stench of roasted meat overpowered the effluvium of the sewer in her nostrils. Then the creature limply fell into her, still hot and smoking from the flame that had burned its life away.

 The twang of a bow shot filled Teresa's ears. A shock ran through the limp body of the goblin, and a moment later she saw the feathered end of an arrow protruding from its back. The third goblin was an archer, Teresa realized as she pushed the corpse off of her and scrabbled on all fours around the corner of the tunnel.

 Her body shook as she reached for another arrow. The familiar action seemed to steady her nerves however, and once more she felt that cold hardness within her rise to the fore. She stood and took a deep breath. Raising the bow and drawing it to half tension, she stepped sideways around the corner and back into the tunnel.

 Pulling the bow to full tension now, she let half of her breath flow from her lips and sighted in on the goblin archer down the hall. A moment later her arrow was in flight, and she stepped back around the corner to ready another. Even as she moved, she heard the twang of a bowshot come from down the hall and gritted her teeth. But the goblin's arrow did not find her as she stepped to safety.

 She heard a brief screech from the tunnel, followed by a heavy thud. Then Teresa stepped back into the hall with another arrow ready. The goblin archer was nowhere in sight. He must be down, she reasoned. The first goblin she had shot was still thrashing in the muck in the middle of the sewer. She stepped closer with her bow at half tension. Now she could see that her arrow had pierced his leg at the knee.

 That must really hurt, she thought without the slightest bit of compassion. She walked up to the edge of water channel and stared at the creature. The goblin stopped thrashing and stared back up at her, eyes blazing with hatred. With one smooth motion of her bow Teresa finished it.

*          *          *

 The tunnel fell into a silence that was only pierced by the steady dripping of water and the sound of Teresa's own gasping breaths. The skin of her left arm ached where the bowstring had rubbed against it with every shot, and her fingers throbbed in pain from releasing it with her bare hands. That was what she got for using a bow without an arm bracer and a shooting glove, she thought.

 Looking down at her hands, Teresa saw that they were trembling. A moment later she dropped to the stone floor, shaking all over. Her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest, and the pain in her arm and fingers became worse and worse.

 Yet in spite of it all, she felt exhilaration coursing through her body. She was alive! she thought. She had faced three goblins, and she was alive! She sat there, just happy to still be breathing, and waited for her hands to stop shaking.

 Once they did she concentrated upon her healing spell, then released her magicka with a glow of white light and sent it into the scraped skin of her arm and fingers. This time it only required a single casting for the pain to stop.

 Then she took a closer look at the body the goblins had been fighting over. It was a man, an Imperial perhaps, and did not seem to have been dead for long. He was dressed from head to toe in brown leather, including a thick cuirass that could not be mistaken for anything except armor. His head was bare except for a curious-looking pair of goggles that he wore. An arrow had pierced his leg, and his throat was torn out in a huge gash.

 The work of the goblins no doubt, Teresa thought. But who was he? He was not a legionary, or one of those assassins, that was for certain. Was he a thief? she wondered. She had heard that some of them used the sewers as an underground road, hidden from the eyes of the Imperial Watch. What about the goblins themselves? Was it normal for such creatures to live so near to the city? Just under its nose in fact?

 Teresa shook her head. She would probably never know the answers to her questions, she reasoned. All that mattered right now was that she was still alive, and she had to get moving.

 Still, her street instincts moved her to gather up the bag of coins the goblins had been fighting over and attach it to her own belt. Likewise she pulled the leather cuirass from the dead man's frame a moment later and settled it upon her own shoulders. It felt bulky and uncomfortable, but if there were more goblins ahead it might save her life. His gloves followed soon after, and rifling through his belt pouches she discovered a handful of lockpicks as well. Finally she pulled the goggles from the dead man's head and settled them over her own eyes out of curiosity.

 She was startled when the tunnel suddenly lit up as if it were under the noon day sun. She could see every individual stone, crack, and droplet of water that fell from the ceiling. A shaft of light from a hole in the ceiling ahead was so bright that it was near blinding, prompting her to turn her head away. Strangest of all, nearly all of the color washed out of everything, reducing the world to a grayish landscape broken only the occasional bits of muted red or yellow.

 This must be what that Night Eye spell did that she had heard about, Teresa thought. She knew that many thieves preferred it, as it allowed you to see in the dark without making any light that would give them away.

 A quick rummage through the corpses of the goblins yielded no great treasures as the dead thief had. They carried little more than daggers and wore filthy loincloths. The archer had a brace of arrows, but when Teresa inspected them she found they were smaller, shorter, and thinner than those she had found on the thief. They also appeared to be tipped with soft iron, where his were plainly of good hard steel. So while she strapped the arrow bag of the thief around her waist, she left the goblin's arrows behind, as she knew they would only make her misjudge her shots if she tried to use them. Once she got used to the heavier arrows of the thief that is.

 That is when it occurred to her that if the last goblin had not been an archer, but instead had charged in at her as the first two had, she would probably be dead. The thought gave her a chill, and brought the tremble back to her hands. She had panicked when the second goblin was upon her, she thought. What would she have done if the third had been right behind with a knife or club? What should she do differently the next time, to be prepared for that? she wondered.

 Suddenly she stopped and realized what she was doing. She was assessing weapons and tactics, as if she did this sort of thing for a living. As if she was going to continue doing so. She sounded like the legionaries did when they talked about fighting. She sounded like a warrior...

 Her head spun. She was a nobody, she thought, a nothing; just an orphan from the slums with no past and no future. Yet here she was alive and well, after fighting and killing an assassin and then three goblins all on her own. A curious sensation filled her chest. It was warm, comforting, and made her stand a little straighter. It was something she had never felt before, and it took a while for her to understand what it was. It was pride, she finally realized as a faint smile came to her lips. For the first time in her life, she felt truly proud of herself.

 The smell of feces interrupted her chain of thought. Proud or not, she was still in a sewer, she thought. It was time to go.

 She started off down the tunnel, getting used to the weight of the leather cuirass. She did not like it at all. It was too big in the shoulders, too tight in the chest, loose in the waist, and tight again in the hips. Clearly, she thought, it had not been made for her sex.  

 In time the tunnel narrowed and turned into a round tube, while the dry ledges to either side vanished. With no other choice, Teresa waded into the mire and pushed on to what she hoped would soon be the exit.

 Soon afterward the light seemed to brighten in the tunnel ahead of her, prompting Teresa to stop and raise her free hand to her face. Carefully grasping the Night Eye goggles and trying not to smear muck over the lenses, she drew them up from her eyes and rested them on her forehead.

 The tunnel was plunged into shadows that obscured everything in dark swathes. Yet in that near inky darkness she could make out a red lightness ahead. It was steady, not the guttering of a torch or lantern, and her heart leaped at the thought that she might finally be nearing the way out of her dank and dark prison.

 She tried not to get her hopes up too high and drew the goggles back down over her eyes. Once again the colors of the world dissolved into a dull grey. Looking more closely ahead, she saw what she thought might be bars blocking the tunnel far ahead.

 Gripping her bow tightly in hand, she slowly crept forward. She stayed as near to the wall as she could because the goo was not as deep there. It occurred to her that it would also prevent her from creating a silhouette in the tunnel, and she suddenly felt proud of herself for being such a professional sneak, even if it were completely by accident.

 She came to a gate of rusted irons bars that blocked the passage. She could smell fresh air now, and hear the lapping of water beyond. Fumbling through the pockets of her sack cloth breeches, Teresa produced the heavy iron key that Baurus had given her. With trembling hands she put it into the large square lock, and when she tried to turn it found the door swinging open under her hand. 

 She remembered the lockpicks she found on the thief's body. Perhaps he had picked the lock to enter this way? she thought? Or maybe the goblins had? She shrugged. It did not really matter, because now she was free.

 Moving through the door, she found herself standing at the end of the stone tunnel, with the vastness of Lake Rumare spread out before her. Again Teresa pushed the goggles up on her forehead, but this time did not fuss about the lenses. The giant moon Masser glowed above her with its red light, and the night sky around it glittered with a thousand silver stars.

 Teresa looked down at herself. The sack cloth breeches that she wore were soaked with filth and blood, as was the leather cuirass and gauntlets that she had appropriated in the tunnels. Squatting down by the edge of the water, she stared at her reflection with disgust. Her pale skin was as grimy as her clothing, and her long brown hair matted with blood.

 Without a second thought she cast her bow and arrow bag aside and leaped into the water. It was cool, clean, and caressed her like the touch of the mother that she always wished she had. Staying under the surface as long as her lungs would allow, she rose up and took a deep breath of fresh air.

 Then she set to pulling off her gloves, shoes, and cuirass. She knew the water would ruin the leather, but it was not like any of it had been in pristine condition to begin with, and there was no way she was going to put it back on her skin the way it was. Her sack cloth breeches and shirt followed, until finally she stood naked in the lake and let her body sink into the cool embrace of the water.

*          *          *

 Still dripping with water from her bath, Teresa dressed and took in her surroundings. Across the lake from her she could see a crumbling ruin of white stone blocks. Its elegant, curved spires were broken and its walls shattered. For some reason it made her think of the White Gold Tower in the center of the Imperial City. She had heard that had been built by the Ayleids long before the Empire had ever existed. So she imagined that the ruins might have been built by them as well. She saw the distant glow of a campfire somewhere in the fallen stones, and wondered who might be there. Probably no one she wanted to meet. Teresa reasoned.

 Looking behind her she could see the massive, dark stone blocks of the Imperial Prison looming high up on the hill that crowned the City Isle, and beyond that the even greater mass of the city itself in the distance. She certainly did not want to go back that way either, she thought. One experience in the Imperial Prison had been enough for a lifetime!

 Teresa knew the prison was at the east side of the City Isle, and Baurus had said that Weynon was west of the city, across the lake. So she reasoned that if she kept the city to her left and followed the shore that should take her in the right direction. She would just have to hope she found a place to cross somewhere as she travelled.

 So bow in hand she began to walk along the shore. Here and there she stopped when she noticed plants that she knew had alchemical properties. She could sell those to Claudette at the Gilded Carafe back in the Imperial City, Teresa thought. She might even use them herself once she got back to the shack where she had her mortar and pestle hidden.

 She had learned a long time ago to grind up simple poisons to sell to the thieves and ruffians on the waterfront. They were always looking for an edge; to silence someone who might cry out, or to make them blend into their surroundings, or quite simply to poison someone. Most did not want to spend the time to learn to make potions themselves, Teresa thought. She, on the other hand, had the time. It was not like she was going out robbing people or drinking herself silly in the taverns after all.

 What would people think of her back in the city when they heard this story? Teresa wondered. Then again, maybe it would be better if she never mentioned it to anyone. No sense admitting to escaping from prison after all, she thought. The less anyone knew about that, the better.

 A familiar clicking sound broke her from her reverie. It was a mud crab, she knew. She had run across many of them at the Waterfront. Nasty little creatures, she thought as she looked around for it. Then she spotted it coming out of the water behind her, its beady eyes staring directly at her and pincers reaching out.

 Teresa stepped back to give herself plenty of room. Then readying her Flare spell, she gestured at the creature and let loose a bolt of fire into its shell. It jumped and began to furiously click its pincers at her. Teresa fired another bolt and it fell into a smoldering heap on the shore.

 The smell of the roasted crab meat brought a growl from her stomach. How long had it really been since she had last eaten? Teresa wondered. Too long, her stomach replied with another growl. She descended on the crab with gusto, cracking open its still-hot shell with her hands and digging out the meat with her fingers. She had always like crab, she thought. It was usually the only fresh thing she was ever able to eat, and easy enough to find along the shores.

 Eating her fill, Teresa continued on her journey west along the shore. She came across another sewer exit after a few miles. Once in that place was enough for a lifetime too, she thought, and steered well clear of it.

 By now the sky was lightening to the east, and Teresa began to find it difficult to keep her eyes open. Casting about for a place to sleep, she found a large clump of bushes not too far inland and hid herself within. She did not want the assassins finding her, nor the Imperial Legion for that matter, she thought. No sooner had she lain down she found herself falling into a sleep clouded by dreams of the Emperor's face, assassins, and goblins.

 Teresa did not wake until the sun was lowering on the western horizon. While there was still some daylight remaining Teresa drew forth the Amulet of Kings from her pocket, and for the first time since the Emperor had given it to her she examined it closely.

 The central red stone was huge, easily the size of her palm, and cut into a diamond shape. She had originally thought it was a ruby because of its red color. However, now that she took the time to really study it she saw that it seemed to pulse with an inner red glow. As she watched its surface, she could swear she saw tiny shifts and eddies of color, as if some energy were swirling beneath the crystalline surface of the gem. Clearly, it was no ordinary jewel, she thought.

 The gold band wrapped around the main stone, and was also diamond shaped. Eight smaller gemstones were laid into the band equally along its length. Sapphires, emeralds, pearls, and a few she was not sure about. The entire thing was held by a great gold chain. It was remarkably light for its size, and Teresa could swear that it felt warm in her hands.

 Out of curiosity, she lifted the chain around her head and dropped it onto her shoulders. Yet somehow it slipped from her fingers. She tried again, with the same result. Then she undid the clasp on the chain, and this time looped it around her neck and then tried to snap it shut once more. Again, she found the amulet falling loose from her grasp.

 So it was true, Teresa thought. Only someone with the blood of the kings could wear the amulet. She was starting to see why it was so important. It would prove who the rightful Emperor was and who was not.

*          *          *

 Setting aside the amulet, Teresa took the time for a quick bath in the lake and set off westward again, looking for another crab for dinner. It did not take very long for one to turn up and fill her stomach with its succulent meat. She came across some berries soon after and gathered them up for later, along with a clump of asparagus.

 Teresa marveled at the beauty of the wilderness as she made her way along the shore. She had never imagined it would be like this. She had always thought the world outside the city was a dark and terrifying place. But instead it was quiet and almost peaceful if you did not count the mud crabs. The air was clean in her lungs, and everything was so wide open around her. It was a world with no limits, filled with color and life.

 It was long after dark when she saw the light of a torch deeper inland. Pulling her goggles down over her eyes, she looked closer. The light of the brand hurt her eyes, but she could at least see everything its flame did not illuminate. There was a large clump of towering rocks, she saw, and what appeared to be a rough wooden door leading into them. To either side of the door was hung a long string of skulls, and in front of it was the torchbearer himself, a goblin holding an axe with his free hand.

 So much for peaceful, Teresa thought, and instantly dropped into a crouch. Then she realized that she was far outside of the illumination of the goblin's torch and stood back up. Looking to either side, there was no sign of any other goblins. It was just him and her.

 She drew an arrow from the bag fastened to her right hip and set it on the nock. Raising the bow, she pulled it to half-tension and sighted in on the goblin. He was a long way off, so she raised her bow to compensate. It would be a difficult shot, but she knew she could make it

 But should she make it? Teresa found herself wondering. She knew the goblin would kill her without hesitation, so she felt no sympathy for it. But there were probably others of its kind in the cave. Sooner or later another goblin would come out to find him dead, she knew. Then they might go looking to see who did it, and having a tribe of goblins hunting her would not be good.

 She lowered her bow and put the arrow back in its bag. This was your lucky day goblin, she thought. Giving the cave a wide berth, Teresa continued to make her way west along the island. She also realized something. Just because she could kill, it did not mean she should. That was a very sobering thought, especially when she wondered how many others might look at her in the future and have to make the same decision.

 In time she came to the edge of a wooden bridge that extended north across the lake. Once again she saw the light of a torch ahead of her, this time on the span itself. Only now it was moving, crossing from the opposite shore to her side of the lake. The sound of hooves clomping on wood came to her ears, and as the torch came nearer she could see it was a single legionary riding a horse.

 The law, Teresa thought, just what she needed. She was not sure what was worse, them or the goblins. She wondered if they were looking for her? Or had her escape gone unnoticed in the chaos that must have followed the death of the Emperor?

 She briefly thought Baurus might have told them not to try to recapture her. But then she realized that might tip off the assassins and make them start looking for her. So he had probably done nothing, Teresa reasoned. That meant she was on her own, as she had been ever since she stepped foot in the secret passage under the prison, as she had all her life.

 Teresa sat as still a she could in the bushes and hoped the legionary would not notice her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as he came near. It seemed so deafening to her that he must surely hear it. Her hands were damp with sweat, and she found that her lips had gone dry. The last thing she wanted was to have to tangle with a legionary. They were metal-clad monsters who lived to fight, she thought. Worse, if you killed one of them the rest would never stop looking for you, never stop hunting you. They would track you down and kill you no matter what it took.

 She could smell the horse as the soldier came alongside her. The crackling of his torch was loud in her ears, loud enough to drown out the roaring of her heart, and she held herself absolutely still. Shadow hide me, she prayed.

 Then he was past her and riding down the road deeper inland. Teresa let out a long sigh of relief, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath. She waited in the brush until he was long out of sight, and only then rose and quickly scuttled across the bridge.

 Reaching the other side without incident, she continued her way west down a wooden dock that hugged the shore. She found several crates and barrels on it, but all were empty except for huge spools of rope, which she imagined must be to tie boats up to the pier.

 Dawn was nearing, and Teresa felt exhaustion settling into her once again. Finding another hiding spot, she laid down for another day's sleep. She always had preferred sleeping in the daylight, she mused as she drifted off. The night was so much more comforting to be out and about in.

 Once more she awoke in late afternoon. She could not believe how late she was sleeping. But then again, she had never been through anything like this before. Being poor she had always walked everywhere she needed to go in the city, rather than riding a horse or carriage as the rich people did. But she had never made a trek like this before either. Let alone ever killed people...

 She risked another quick dip in the lake to wash off the dirt and dust of traveling then resumed her march west along the lake shore. She found a fisherman's shack not too far from the dock, and stopped to buy bread and fruit from the owner, using some of the money she had found on the dead thief in the sewer.

 Soon the lake curved away to her left, and far down its coast she could make out a gigantic bridge. Not a simple wooden affair such as the one she had crossed, but rather a massive stone edifice. She knew that was the west bridge, outside of the Talos Plaza district. She had seen it often enough from the Waterfront.

 So Weynon must be somewhere directly ahead of her, she reasoned. With that in mind she left the lake behind and continued west, plunging headlong into the great forest. It was long after dark when she passed what she imagined must be the Red Ring Road that she had heard surrounded the city on the outer shore of the lake.

 After that the only signs of habitation she came across were broken forts and more of the Ayleid ruins, both of which she gave a wide berth. With the sky full of stars and the twin moons casting their light down upon the landscape she could see well enough that she did not need the goggles. Teresa liked how they illuminated everything, but she did not like how they turned the world a dull grey. She would only use those when she really had to, she thought.

 Travelling through the night, Teresa marveled at the beauty of the forest around her. It felt so pristine and clean. She often found herself stopping just to touch a tree, or admire the way the moonlight filtered through its leaves. With no hustle or bustle, no footpads or watchmen, no stench of garbage, no walls looming up from every direction, it seemed like paradise to the young wood elf.

 But what she loved best of all were the deer. They moved with such grace that it took her breath away, leaping over rocks and brush with an ease she never would have imagined possible given their spindly legs. Teresa knew most people would hunt them for their meat, but she did not have the heart to shoot them. They were just too beautiful, and were of no threat to her.

 The wolves were another story however. Her first encounter was with a single wolf, which gave Teresa the opportunity to use her innate Bosmer ability to command animals. It was something she had only used before on rats in the Waterfront shantytown she called home. She was not even sure if would work on an animal as large as a wolf when she saw it, and was greatly relieved when it wagged its tail at her and licked her cheeks after she cast it. Much better than having her face bitten off, she thought.

 That was the only lone wolf she saw though. After that they all came in packs, which made her ability to command a single animal a moot point. Most of them appeared to want as little do with her as she did with them. However, when one pack became too curious for comfort Teresa was able to shoo them away a Flare spell in front of their noses. All animals were afraid of fire after all, she thought. Or at least that was what Teresa had been told.

 She continued traveling that way for several days, moving by night and sleeping in the day. She was not exactly sure where she was going, but she was not worried. Something inside of her had faith that she would reach her destination. It was a strange feeling, believing in herself, but one that Teresa was slowly becoming accustomed to.

*          *          *

 The ground had been gradually sloping upward ever since she left the lake behind. But after many days she found herself climbing a steep slope, pausing occasionally to gather up the lavender, viper's bugloss, and St. John's wort she found there. The sky had gone dark and the stars were coming out when she finally reached the crest of the hill. Atop it she was greeted by the sight of high stone walls in front of her and stretching off out of sight to either side.

 She saw torches on the battlements, and lights emanating from windows in towers regularly spaced along the wall. Here and there she saw soldiers marching back and forth behind the parapets. Continuing ahead, she soon came upon a path that ringed the walls. Following it, she found herself at a huge gate in the wall, with a large stable and horse paddock nearby.

 She froze when she saw the two guards standing at the gate. They stared back at her, and she willed herself to begin walking again. As she drew near she found that unlike the members of the Legion and Imperial City Watch, these men wore coats of mail covered with only a few pieces of plate at the shoulders. A quilted vest was draped over their mail and split at the waist, hanging as far down as their knees. A white tree was emblazoned in the center of those vests, as well as on the round shields they held in their left hands. At their hips they wore the same steel longswords she was used to seeing the Imperial Legion carry however.

 "Good evening citizen," one of the guardsmen said as she approached. "Welcome to Chorrol."

 Teresa stopped and resisted the urge to look to see if he had been talking to someone else. No guardsman had ever spoken to her in that tone before. It was... friendly. The way watchmen treated regular people. Teresa found herself at a loss for words.

 "It looks like you have been traveling for some time Miss," the other guard offered up, filling the awkward silence that was developing.

 "Umm, yes," Teresa forced herself to speak. "A long time. I was looking for Weynon Priory."

 "Not going to become a monk I hope!" the first guard said with a grin, then stopped himself abruptly. "Not that there is anything wrong with monks of course, praise Talos. Just a bit dull is all."

 Teresa suddenly realized he was looking at her, and not in the way a watchman ever had before. No, this was the way a man looked at a woman he desired, Teresa knew. She had seen that look often enough when men looked at Methredhel and her roommate Adanrel. Teresa was not sure what she should do. It was not like many men - and never watchmen - had ever found her attractive!

 "No, I, um..." Teresa began, scrambling for something to say. This was not turning out in any way that she imagined an encounter with soldiers would be.

 "I am looking for my brother," she finally said. "He is one of the monks there. I came out from the Imperial City to surprise him with a visit. Only I have never been here before..."

 "I didn't think there were any Bosmer monks at Weynon?" the second guard said quizzically.

 "Oh, he's my step-brother," Teresa replied quickly. "He's an Imperial like you men are. But we are so close I forget. It is been so long since I have seen him... I cannot wait."

 "Well, Weynon is back down that road there," the first guard said, pointing down another road that lay beyond the stable. "If you follow that it will take you past some farms and right to the priory. But I would not try going there now. You better get a room here in the city for the night and go in the morning."

 "That is ok, I like walking at night," Teresa said, turning to leave.

 "Wait," the first guard said, reaching out to take her arm in a gentle grip. "Please. You look like you know your way around the woods, but that's not a good idea, not these days."

 "Ever since the Emperor died, we have had reports you see..." the second guard said in a hushed whisper. "Of people disappearing, and Legionaries turning up dead on the road, torn to pieces. It's the Daedra they say!"

 Teresa's heart skipped a beat, not just from the watchman's grip, but also from the news. They both seemed serious, and genuinely concerned for her safety. She was not sure how to feel about that. She was not sure how to feel about so many things these days.

 "Oh," she said, thinking about her long journey through the wilderness. It had been very quiet and relatively peaceful, certainly more than the Waterfront ever had been. Yet if there really were Daedra roaming the land, what would she have done if one found her? "I had no idea. I had better stay here then."

 The first guard recommended she stay at an inn called the Oak and Crosier that was just inside the gate. She took his advice and was glad for it. The common room was clean, bright, and filled with people eating and drinking. It seemed very friendly and comfortable-looking. Talking to the owner, a female Khajiit named Talasma, Teresa found that the rooms were not nearly as expensive as she imagined for place so large and well apportioned. After exchanging more of her sewer-found gold she acquired a room, a bath, and her first real meal since escaping the prison.

 The next morning she went shopping. Her first stop was the Mages Guild, which she had heard of from some of the people talking in the inn's common room. Their Altmer alchemist looked at her like she was more of a specimen than a person. That did not bother Teresa, much. It was how she expected people to treat her after all.

 The Altmer did give her a nice sum of coins for the plants she had gathered on her journey. Enough that Teresa began to think that roaming the countryside for ingredients might turn out to be well worth the effort. Not enough to get rich for certain, but enough to keep her in a real bed whenever she did return to a city to sell them.

 After that a smithy known as Fire and Steel caught her eye. There Teresa found herself parting with her cracked and brittle leathers and her sword. But in return she found herself the owner of a brand new set of leather armor - cuirass, gauntlets, greaves, and boots - covering her from head to toe with the thick, yet supple material. Where the old cuirass from the sewer had felt bulky and stiff, this seemed to move with her willowy frame rather than against it. The owner said it was made for female wood elves like herself, so she was not too surprised.

 From there Teresa stopped at the Northern Goods Trade Store, which she found was run by a friendly Argonian named Seed Neeus. From her Teresa purchased a bedroll and some other traveling equipment. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw that the Argonian merchant had a supply of ground henna leaves, and bought them too.

 Then she was back to the inn where she went back up to her room and set to the task of mixing the henna with water and applying the paste to her hair. She had never dyed her hair before, but knew enough other girls who did, so it was not too difficult, just a bit messy and time-consuming.

 When she was finished she stepped back to get a good look at herself in the mirror and nearly gasped. Not only was her formerly mousy brown hair now a brilliant crimson mane, but the rest of her had changed as well. The street urchin she had known all of her life was gone. Instead a lithe forester clad in leather stood in her place. She stood tall and straight, with eyes that showed a quiet confidence behind them. The very picture of a wood elf from all the stories she had heard growing up, except for her ghostly pale skin of course.

 "It is our choices in life that define us," she heard the voice of the Emperor in her mind, as clearly as if her were standing next to her. "Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better."

 The thought of the Emperor made her eyes moisten and a lump form in her throat. Yet she willed herself not to cry. She owed him better than that, Teresa thought. Swallowing down the knot in her throat, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the old man would think if he could see her now. She had the feeling that he would be pleased.

 The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Teresa found that she liked the new person she was becoming.

*          *          *

 After buying some traveling food from Talasma at the Oak and Crosier, Teresa set off on her journey to Weynon. The priory was not difficult to find, even for someone traveling across the countryside rather than by the road. The chapel tower loomed high enough above the trees around it that Teresa could see it from quite a distance. Drawing nearer, she found that a waist-high stone wall surrounded the grounds, which were divided up by more low walls into cultivated fields, grazing for sheep, a stable, and a smithy.

 It was a miniature city all in itself, Teresa thought. People dressed in ordinary work clothes moved to and fro tending the soil or the livestock, and she received more than a few stares when she leaped over the low wall and onto the grounds themselves. No one tried to stop her however, and Teresa made her way to the chapel itself.

 There she found an actual monk, who directed her to their chapter house when she asked for Jauffre. The door was not locked, so Teresa let herself into the building. Within she found a simple but comfortable abode, and another named monk named Brother Piner brought her to Jauffre's office on the second floor. There he told her to wait in the anteroom outside, while he went inside to announce her.

 So Teresa waited, but the monk did not return, nor did anyone else issue from the room that he had entered. Time seemed to drag on forever. What was taking so long? she wondered impatiently. She only needed a few moments to give Jauffre the damned amulet, she thought. Then she could get out of here and get back home.

 She probably should have told Piner that she had the amulet, she thought, that might have gotten some action. But after what had happened under the prison, she did not want to take any chances with it. With nothing else to do, she paced back and forth, growing more frustrated with every moment.

 Finally Teresa could take no more and shoved the door to the office open and burst inside. Within she found Brother Piner standing next to a young man in the same gilded armor that Baurus and the Emperor's other bodyguards had worn. A third man sat behind a desk across from them. He was a middle-aged Imperial, with a shaven head and wearing a plain monk's robe.

 Teresa knew instantly that the seated man was no priest. He sat with his back too straight, his eyes were too hard, and his every motion was that of a soldier. Teresa had seen it all her life. You could always spot a legionary, no matter how hard he tried to hide what he was. Their soldier's demeanor was burned into them like a brand into a horse.

 "What in Nirn do you think you are doing!" the last man growled, rising from his seat. "I have important matters to discuss with these gentlemen. Now wait outside and you will be dealt with appropriately."

 Teresa felt herself wilt under his harsh words and even hasher stare. She wanted to squeak like a mouse and scurry off to hide. Exactly what she had done all her life when the watch turned their wrath upon her. But she did not do so this time, much to her own surprise. Instead she shut the door behind her with only a slight tremble in her hand. When she turned she saw the Blade had taken a step closer to her, and had a hand on the longsword at his hip, as if it were just casually resting there.

 "I am here for the Emperor!" Teresa found herself spitting out with an extreme effort of will. "He sent me here."

 "What?" the middle-aged man said in surprise, his tone more gentle now. "Just who are you? What are you doing here?"

 Teresa took a moment to calm herself. For days she had imagined this moment. But now that she was here she did not know what to say. It was nothing like she had imagined. She felt like she was fighting the goblins all over again. He heart was racing, her throat was dry, her palms damp with sweat. She had to control herself, she thought. She had faced an assassin; she could face this soldier pretending to be a monk.

 Rather than talk, she reached into one of her newly bought belt pouches and drew forth the Amulet of Kings. The Blade's hand fell away from his sword hilt and his eyes widened in shock, as did those of the other two men.

 "By Talos!" Brother Piner gasped in surprised.

 "Jauffre," Teresa said. The surprise evident on all three of their faces made her feel more in control of the situation. She looked to the older monk. "Are you Jauffre?"

 "Yes," he said, his voice had lost all of its former anger, and now seemed filled with joy as he stepped closer, reaching his hand out to her. "I cannot believe it. You have the amulet!"

 For a moment Teresa recoiled out of reflex. Then she steadied herself, and placed the Amulet of Kings in Jauffre's hand.

 "My name is Teresa, and the Emperor said to give this to you," she said, now feeling calm, as if simply referring to him had brought her strength. "He said that he has another son. One the assassins did not know about. He said you know where he is. Find him, and give him the amulet."

 For a moment Jauffre stared at the giant red gemstone in his hand with wonder. Then his features settled back into a mask of determination. He looked to the Blade first and laid his free hand on the younger Imperial's armored shoulder.

 "Go Amulius," he said, his voice now filled with enthusiasm. "Ride hard to Kvatch as we were discussing and find out what is taking them. Bring them back here at once!"

 The Blade saluted Jauffre, and Teresa almost felt like she would blush when he turned to her and did the same. Then he rushed out of the room with a clamor of armored feet.

 "I do not know how you managed to get this," Jauffre said in amazement, looking back to Teresa. "But you did the right thing coming here. You may have just saved the Empire, all of Tamriel, from destruction. When the Emperor and his sons died, I sent my men for his last son. He was illegitimate, so his birth was kept a secret to avoid a scandal, and to protect him from the Empress. Now he is our last hope."

 "But where are my manners?" Jauffre continued, now the kind host as he lead her to a comfortable chair next to his desk. "Come and sit. You must be tired from your journey. Are you hungry? I will send for some food."

 Teresa let herself be led to the chair and sat down with relief. Her heart beat with relief. It was finally over! she thought. The moment she had put the amulet in Jauffre's hand, it felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her. She recounted her story at his prodding, and he plied her with sweet cakes and wine. He seemed surprised to learn that she had been in prison, and swore that he would have whatever charges there were against her dropped.

 "Now," he said after she had finished. "How can I reward you for what you have done? I cannot give you a title, only the Emperor can do that. My order is not wealthy, but I am sure we can spare some gold though."

 "No," Teresa said, shaking her head. "I cannot take anything."

 "You have done a service to the Empire which cannot be dismissed," Jauffre said staunchly. "I must do something for you in return."

 "You do not understand," Teresa said, tears welling up in her eyes. "He died right in front of me, and I couldn't stop it. He believed in me, and I just watched him die..."

 "Do not carry that guilt with you," Jauffre said quietly, rising to lay a hand on her shoulder. Not the soft hand of a monk, but the hard grasp of a soldier. "Could have, would have, should have... Play that game with yourself and it will drive you mad. Believe me, I know better than most."

 Teresa gently took his hand and moved it off her shoulder. While part of her desperately wanted to be comforted, she could not let a soldier see her this way. Her entire lifetime had taught her to never show them weakness, else they would exploit it. She did not think Jauffre would shake her down, but old habits die hard.

 She rose, knowing that she had to get out of there. Jauffre did not try to stop her as she walked to the door.

 "The new Emperor will know what you have done" she heard Jauffre say as she opened the door. "If you ever need anything, come and find me, or him. Anything..."

 Teresa nodded. Part of her was screaming to take the money and live rich and fat for the rest of her life. But another part of her pictured the Emperor's face and remembered his words. He had given her something no amount of gold could compare to. What she did, she did for him, and nothing else.

*          *          *

 Teresa's journey back to the city was uneventful. Once again she stayed off of the road and walked east through the forest, traveling mostly at night. She found the going was easier this time, as it was literally all downhill. Once more she gathered plants with alchemical properties as she traveled. A black bear followed her for a bit, but a few uses of her Flare spell convinced it there was easier game elsewhere.

 Many days later she found herself on the western shore of Lake Rumare once more. She could not pass up the opportunity to strip off her gear and dive into the water. She had always liked to swim, but ever since her escape from prison it had become her special treat. It seemed almost as if it could wash the muck of her past away, and allow her to emerge from its depths a completely new person.

 Heading south along the lake shore, she eventually came upon a small village of daub and wattle homes near the great western bridge to the City Isle. The sign on the road leading into it said it was named Weye. The sun had set some time earlier, so rather than pushing on to the Imperial City she decided to stop for the night.

 In the center of the village stood a building larger than the others. The lower half of its walls was of small stones, and the top of daub and wattle like the other buildings in the village. A roof of thatch covered its two stories, and the large sign in front of it proclaimed it to be the Wawnet Inn.

 The common room was small, but the patrons were few. Teresa had no troubles finding herself an empty table and sat back over a glass of wine and a handful of fresh bread and Argonian olive oil. She had never drunk wine before Weynon, but ever since then she had been thinking about how good it had tasted. The Wawnet Inn's fare was nothing compared to that of Jauffre's table, but it still tasted good after days of nothing but water.

 The innkeeper was an attractive Altmer woman named Nerussa, and when Teresa asked for a third glass, she began talking about wines and how she liked to collect them. Teresa liked how she kept her golden hair tied back with polished little sticks that dangled tiny jewels from their top ends. It looked very elegant, and showed off the delicate curve of the nape of her neck. Teresa wondered how Nerussa did it, and offhandedly fiddled with the unruly locks of her own crimson mane.

 "So if you ever come across shadowbanish wine, you will be sure to remember me, right?"

 Teresa blinked. She had been paying more attention to how Nerussa looked than to what she was saying.

 "Yes, shadowbanish wine, in the old forts," Teresa replied, trying to remember what the Altmer had been talking about. "If I ever find any, I will be glad to bring it to you."

 A middle-aged Breton man came in a moment later. He wore rough clothing of sack cloth, and walked with a noticeable limp. Sitting down at a table next to Teresa, he gave her the same mildly interested glance that the other patrons had when she had entered herself. She got the feeling that they did not get too many Bosmer foresters in Weye.

 "Bring me some of that pale ale Nerussa," he said loudly to the Altmer woman as she walked back to the bar. "That'll ease the pain."

 "Is that leg still bothering you Aelwin?" Nerussa asked a moment later as she brought him a tall glass of foaming liquid, which did not look very pale to Teresa.

 "Ahh, it still acts up," the Breton man fussed. "Never healed right in the first place the priest says, now they can't fix it 'cause it's too late."

 "So what are you going to do about those fish?" the Altmer asked.

 "I dunno," Aelwin replied, staring morosely into his glass before downing a mouthful. "I was so close too, only a dozen more to go and I would be set."

 At that point the two of them looked over at Teresa, noticing that she was staring. That is when Teresa noticed that she was staring herself. Feeling like she had just walked naked through the Market District, she instantly lowered her gaze to her wine while her ghostly white cheeks blossomed a shade of crimson to match her hair.

 She emptied her glass in one quick gulp, and feeling a desperate need to escape the common room, rose and walked not a little unsteadily to the bar. Had she drank that much? she thought. This was only the second time she had ever drank wine. She wondered how much really was too much?

 "You mentioned you had rooms?" she asked Nerussa, feeling proud of herself for not slurring her words. See, she told herself, she could hold her liquor.

 "Yes, there is a room upstairs if you would like it," the Altmer replied with a smile. Teresa wasn't sure if she was smiling at her embarrassment, or if maybe she saw something she liked?

 Probably the embarrassment, Teresa decided, taking Nerussa up on the room and passing several coins to her across the counter. Walking up the stairs was no challenge to a seasoned forester such as herself; nor was entering the room. Getting out of her cuirass was however, with all of its straps and buckles and laces. In the end she wound up spending the night sleeping in it and nothing else. In spite of how Teresa would have liked Nerussa to have come to visit, she was thankful that the Altmer did not.

*          *          *

 Teresa woke early next morning with a slight ache in her head. Her alchemical gatherings had borne fruit however, and she felt very pleased with herself when she produced an echinacea root. Having no mortar and pestle with her to grind it down, she simply cut off a small piece and ate it. That would take care of her head pains, she thought proudly as she dressed and headed down to the common room.

 Nerussa was already awake and there to greet her, taking Teresa somewhat aback. She had hoped to slip out of the inn without any further embarrassment. Now she would have to talk with the Altmer woman and try not to act like an idiot, something she seemed to be having a problem with since meeting her.

 "You know, someone really should help Aelwin," Nerussa said, apparently to no one in particular, as she produced a small bread roll for Teresa's breakfast. Since there was no one else in the room but the two of them, Teresa had the distinct impression that she was that no one in particular.

 "With his leg?" Teresa asked. "I am not a healer. I would not know what to do."

 "No, with his fish," Nerussa said.

 "With his fish?" Teresa replied, feeling completely lost. "What about his fish?"

 "He only needs to kill a dozen more Rumare Slaughterfish to fulfill a contract he has with an alchemist in Skingrad," Nerussa explained. "He is doing some kind of experiments with their scales. Aelwin was hoping to use the money to retire and live in the city. But now he can't even do his regular fishing with his leg the way it is, let alone catch the slaughterfish.

 Teresa could see where this was going. Her instincts told her to bolt. There was no way she was going to go out and tangle with slaughterfish. A lifetime on the Waterfront had taught her that. There was a reason they were called that after all.

 So a half hour later she was standing on the shore of the lake, wondering why on Nirn she had agreed to catch the fish for Aelwin.

 It was Nerussa's eyes, Teresa thought, those damned soft amber eyes that sparkled just so when the morning light shone through the window. Teresa sighed. She had always heard of women doing this to men, but never to other women. It was not at all fair! she thought indignantly.

 Well, there was nothing for it now but to get it over with, she decided. Stripping off her leather armor and leaving it in a pile on the beach alongside her bow and her arrow bag, she waded into the water wearing nothing but her underwear. Normally she liked the water. But normally she did not go looking for slaughterfish either... 

 In one hand she held a small cage filled with cut up fish. As soon as it hit the water it began to ooze blood and fish guts all around her. Aelwin explained that he used this to attract the slaughterfish. He had offered to give her the spear he used to kill them, but she had declined. She did not know the first thing about spears. It was just a big heavy stick to her. Instead she readied the third and final spell that she knew - Absorb Life - which unlike her Flare spell would work underwater.

 So, feeling completely disgusted she waded out into the reddening water and went hunting for slaughterfish. It did not take long before Aelwin's bait proved its worth, and Teresa found one of the long, snakelike slaughterfish winding its way toward her through the murky water.

 She had seen them often enough in her frequent trips into the lake. However, on those occasions she had never tried to actually get their attention by ringing their dinner bell. Now as the slaughterfish closed in, she wondered how it could even shut its mouth with so many big sharp teeth.

 That is when Teresa remembered why she did not like the Absorb Life spell much. It required her to be close enough to touch her target. As the slaughterfish closed in, she wished she had taken Aelwin up on his offer of the spear after all.

 The slaughterfish's first strike was at the cage of fish chunks, propelling itself forward with a flick of its rope-like tail and sinking its long fangs into the iron bars. The bars of the cage bent slightly with the impact, and Teresa was barely able to hold onto it with her left hand as the slaughterfish jerked to and fro.

 By now she had built up a charge of magicka in her other hand and reached out to touch the fish. Releasing the energy through the symbol of her spell, the energy ground down into the body of the fish with a flash of brilliant crimson light. Teresa suddenly felt refreshed, her headache vanishing altogether. The fish on the other hand, had an entirely different reaction.

 It let go of the cage and turned to look at her with its glassy black eyes. Teresa did not like that look at all, nor the look of those teeth as they came at her. That was all the incentive she needed to drop the cage and hastily kick her legs for shore. Years of swimming had taught her to move swiftly through the water, and she called up every last measure of that speed as the slaughterfish pursued her into the shallows, nipping at her very heels.

 Teresa said a silent prayer of thanks to the Nine when she reached the shore alive and with all of her toes. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she felt herself want to shrivel up and hide under the sand. She had been beaten by a fish! she thought in disgust, a fish! She had even lost the bait cage in the bargain.

 Looking back out into the lake, she saw that her antagonist had followed her right up to the edge of the water, still snapping its teeth and trying to bite her. Teresa skipped back out of reflex, and noticed her bow out of the corner of her eye. A faint smile came to her lips as she ran to grab it and her arrow bag.

 The slaughterfish was still where she had left it when she came back. It seemed to have trouble swimming in the shallows, and could not get back out into the deeper water. That gave Teresa plenty of time to nock an arrow, take careful aim, and shoot it through the head.

 This gave Teresa a plan. She made the short trip to Aelwin's home to obtain a length of rope. While he could not conceal his surprise at seeing the nearly naked and soaking wood elf on his doorstep, he quickly produced the cord she desired.

 It was only when she was on her way back to the beach that Teresa wondered if it was only surprise he had been looking at her with. The more she thought about it, the more it reminded her of how guards at Chorrol had looked at her...

 The thought made her start to turn red again. Especially when she started to notice how the rest of the people in the village were watching her as she walked by. By the time she had returned to the beach she was thankful to be back to the slaughterfish.

 Teresa took out her arrows and stuck them into the sand point down next to her bow. That would make them easier to grab than if they were in the bag, she knew. Then tying one end of the cord around her ankle, she swam back out into the lake to find the fish cage. Thankfully she had not gone too far out when she encountered the slaughterfish, so it was not difficult for her to recover. Tying the other end of the cord to the cage, she then began swimming along the shore looking for more fish.

 Once again, it did not take long until one showed up to feast upon the fish parts in the cage. Teresa did not try to use her spell against it, but rather swam for shore immediately, and repeated her previous tactic of shooting the pursuing slaughterfish when it became trapped in the shallows.

 She spent the rest of the day fishing in this manner, moving along the coast with her bow and arrows when she had exhausted an area of fish. Aelwin came out at midday to treat her to a lunch of honeyed bread and goat's milk, and remained to watch in amazement as she continued to draw the fish in and shoot them from shore. By the time the sun was setting Teresa had caught the last of the slaughterfish that he needed.

 "I cannot believe it!" Aelwin said in amazement. "You got them all, and without a scratch on yourself. You are unbelievable little lady, and so kind to help an old man like me. I don't know how I can ever thank you."

 "Well..." Teresa mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed. After all, she thought, it was really Nerussa who had talked her into it...

 "I do not have much, but I suppose I could give you this, seeing as I am not going to need it anymore," Aelwin went on, holding up his right hand to show Teresa the ring he wore. It was turquoise, and decorated with dolphins leaping over waves. She thought it was quite lovely.

 "It is called the Jewel of the Rumare. My father gave it to me," Aelwin explained as he took it off his finger. "It has been my secret weapon every since I started as a fisherman. It allows you to breathe underwater you see, and prevents anything you carry from being damaged by the water."

 Teresa was dumfounded when he set the ring in her palm, and could not suppress a faint smile as she set it on her finger. It was far too big, but instantly shrank to fit perfectly around her skin a moment after she had put it on.

 "It's beautiful," she breathed. Then she wrapped her arms around the old Breton and gave him a hug. She felt very warm and content. She told herself it was because of the ring. She was only beginning to imagine the things she might do with it. Like swim with her leather armor and bow. But there was a nagging feeling deep inside of her that was telling her that her joy came from somewhere else entirely, perhaps even from the look of gratitude she saw in an old man's eyes...

*          *          *

 After spending the evening enjoying Aelwin's surprisingly tasty grilled slaughterfish, Teresa spent the night sleeping on a spare bedroll in his house. She knew it was not the smartest idea. Methredhel's roommate Adanrel had made that mistake and paid for it. It was not something that they talked about, but everyone knew what had happened to her. Still, somehow Teresa did think that Aelwin was something to worry about, and the night passed without incident.

 The next morning Teresa bathed in the lake again, and washed herself with the extract of a vanilla plant she had gathered, giving her skin a soft, welcoming scent. Thinking of how lovely Nerussa's hair was, she spent nearly an hour fussing with her own back at Aelwin's home. She could not make it as elegant as the tresses of the innkeeper, but after finally combing out all of the snags, parting it on the side, and brushing it across her forehead, it at least looked better than before.

 When she finally felt presentable she said her goodbyes to Aelwin, who was preparing for his journey to Skingrad to deliver the slaughterfish scales. Teresa debated saying goodbye to Nerussa. Part of her very much wanted to see the tall high elf again. But another part of her sensed that Nerussa was trouble, at least for her. After all, she was the entire reason Teresa had spent the previous day swimming with slaughterfish...

 This time Teresa listened to the prudent half of her nature. Turning away from the Wawnet Inn, she set her feet to the great western bridge and the Imperial City beyond. She was not used to being awake so early in the morning, and could not stifle several yawns as she made her way across the massive stone edifice. By the time she reached the other side she was well awake however, especially when she set her eyes upon the familiar sight of the watchmen standing guard at the city gate.

 Were they on the lookout for her? Teresa wondered as her heart beat faster. Could Jauffre have had time to clear her name already? Did the senior Blade even intend to do so, or was that just a lie he told her before sending her right back to her prison cell?

 Teresa did not really think he would do the latter. He seemed to be a man of his word. But that did not mean the watch were not looking for her in any case. So just as at Chorrol, she forced herself to act calm and relaxed as she walked toward the city gate. I am just your ordinary Bosmer, she thought, nothing to look at here.

 "Good morning citizen," one of the watchmen said as she walked up to the gateway. Teresa felt the urge to bolt rise within her. With an effort of will she retained her casual pace, and turned to look at the Imperial.

 "Good morning," she said, doing her best to pretend that she was not an escaped prisoner. She even forced a faint smile to her lips and paused to talk to the man. "How are things in the city? I have been away for a very long time."

 "Everyone's talking about the Emperor's murder," he said, and Teresa detected a quaver in his voice. "Emperors have been assassinated before, but never anything like this. No one even knows who was responsible. Now with no heir..., we are in for dark times friend."

 Teresa was stunned. In all of her life the men and women of the Imperial Legion had seemed like towers of stone; incapable of fear or doubt, and unmoved by pity, compassion or any other form of soft emotion. Yet this man, who she suddenly noticed might be even as young as herself, sounded like any ordinary person.

 "Do not worry," Teresa found herself saying in a conciliatory tone, thinking of Jauffre and the secret heir. "Things will work out, you'll see."

 They had better, Teresa thought as she passed through the gate. Until this moment she had not thought of anything beyond delivering the amulet to Jauffre. What the guard said was right though. Who were those assassins who knew so much about the Emperor, down to his secret escape route? Who was behind them? Did this mean a civil war throughout the Empire?

 Normally such thoughts would never have entered her mind. Until she woke up in prison and met the Emperor, she had never thought further than how she was going to eat that day and how to stay out of the way of the Imperial Watch and the ruffians that did not obey the Thieves Guild's rules about killing.

 What would a civil war do to the city, and the people in it? she wondered. Starvation? Disease? An army breaking down the walls and storming in to murder everyone? Now she understood why that legionary was so shaken.

 Still, she reminded herself that Jauffre was out there looking for the heir. He would set things right. Then there was Baurus. Teresa did not need to be told that the Redguard would stop at nothing to find those responsible and take revenge. As strange as it was, Teresa was glad to know that there were people like that in the Empire, who would do the right thing.

 She broke from her reverie in time to notice that her feet had taken her completely through the Talos Plaza district and into the Elven Gardens. Unlike the Talos Plaza, which was purely for the elite, the Elven Gardens was a neighborhood of artisans, merchants, nobles on hard times, and other folk who never had to really worry about where their next coin was coming from. It was not rich, Teresa thought, but it was nowhere near poor either.  

 After her time in the forest she felt a new appreciation for the quiet bedroom district with its numerous trees, flowerbeds, and bushes. Yet still, the hard stone walls of the city seemed to close in from all around. She had never really thought about it before, but everywhere she looked in the city there was a wall. Everything was shoved tightly between those walls, pressed together like the contents of a too-small backpack.

 Teresa shook herself. What was she thinking? This was home after all. Nothing in Tamriel compared to the Imperial City. Nothing was bigger. Nothing was grander. Looking up at the exquisite shape of the White Gold Tower, she was reminded of the graceful lines of the strange ruins she saw outside of the prison sewer. You could see that tower everywhere in the city. Even when she had journeyed from the city for days, she could still see it rising in the distance. 

 Looking back down to the street, her eyes fell upon a dirty man in ragged sack cloth who was begging for coins. Now this was the city she knew best, she thought with a sinking feeling in her heart. It was place of people with no hope and no future. As she looked on, two watchmen marched over to the beggar and with barely a word grabbed him by both arms and dragged him away.

 He should have known better, Teresa thought. The watch did not tolerate begging in neighborhoods like the Elven Gardens or Talos Plaza. They would let you pass through as long as you did not stay. But stopping and asking for money was right out. If the beggar was lucky they would toss him into the tunnel to the Waterfront. If not, he would probably spend the night in the prison.

 Now that was the Imperial Watch that Teresa remembered. Yes, she was home indeed.

 Teresa noticed people looking at her as she made her way down the main thoroughfare to the Market District. Only then did she notice that she walking directly down the middle of the main boulevard. She never did that. It was the surest way to be spotted by the watch and shaken down. No, she and all the other street urchins kept to the alleys and side streets in neighborhoods like this.

 Out of reflex she looked for the nearest alley and headed for it. Then she stopped herself. She was not going to skulk in the shadows! she told herself. Not after what she had been through. Pulling herself up straight and tall, she went back to walking right down the middle of the street.

 That is when she noticed not only that people were looking at her, but how they were looking at her. It was not with the usual scorn, disgust, or pity that the well-off people reserved for gutter rats. They were looking at her altogether differently. As if she was a person, and apparently an interesting one. A few of the men even gave her the same kind of hungry look that the Chorrol guard had, while some of the women gave her one of what might even be envy.

 She looked down at her willowy, leather-clad frame. It did not really show anything at all, she thought. But the leather did move with her rather well, and the greaves did cling tightly to her legs and hips. That was one of the things she liked about them. The leather fit like a second skin. Still, she was certain that she did not detect even a trace of feminine wiles, not like she had seen in Nerussa's eyes...

*          *          *

Putting the Altmer out of her mind where she belonged, Teresa thought about her first stop as she made her way through the gate to the Market District. Not nearly so clean and neat as the Elven Gardens, the markets were a working class neighborhood. The stones of its buildings were worn and rough. Shoots of grass could be seen erupting from cracks in the cobblestones of the streets, while here and there toadstools blossomed in perpetual shadows cast by stone walls.

 A noisy, chaotic, melting pot of all Cyrodiil, there were more shops here than the rest of the city's districts put together, Teresa thought. The streets were busy with carts loaded with goods from all over the continent. Working men loaded and unloaded crates, while shoppers of all races and social classes dodged between looking for everything from armor to wine. Here no one would spare her a second glance, she knew.

 Yet Teresa froze an instant later, when she saw the face of the legionary standing watch on the market side of the gate. It was Volsinius. She knew him only too well, she thought. Her tongue reflexively sought out the gap between her back teeth where he had knocked one out with a backhand slap of his gauntleted hand. She had been eight years old, and Teresa could still remember it just as clearly as when it had happened. He had caught her trying to steal a sweet roll from a street vendor. The blow was his way of going easy on her. It was that or prison, and he made her thank him for it afterward.

 Every instinct in her said to break and run as he turned to look at her. She dug her fingers into her palms, and if it were not for the leather gauntlets that she wore, she might have drawn blood. His eyes locked onto hers and she gritted her teeth. He was about to recognize her, she knew.

 "You have my ear citizen," he said in the same neutral tone that watchmen reserved for ordinary, law-abiding people.

 Teresa stood there, not believing what she had heard. Was this a game? she wondered. Some sort of joke on his part? But the Volsinius she knew was not one for humor or subterfuge, Teresa thought. He was a blunt instrument.

 "Nothing," Teresa stammered, forcing herself to speak in order to break his gaze. "It's nothing. I just thought I knew you."

 "No," he said. "If we knew one another, I would remember. I never forget a face, especially one as striking as yours Bosmer."

 Teresa blushed in surprise, and quickly moved on without another word. By Nocturnal he was complimenting her! Her head swam. This was madness, pure madness. What had the Emperor done to her? she wondered. What had she done to herself?

 Then she set her eyes upon an aging Imperial woman in the street outside of Edgar's Discount Spells. Her face was more lined and careworn than the cobblestones upon which she stood, and her shoulder-length hair had long since gone to grey. She wore a simple dress of coarse and dirty green wool, laced up the front with rawhide. Teresa approached with a quickened pace, and the old woman looked up at her.

 "Spare a coin for an old woman?" she asked Teresa in a shaking voice.

 Teresa smiled. Not the faint smile she typically cracked when she was amused or otherwise pleased, but a wide, joyful grin.

 "Can you spare a hug for a little girl Simplicia?" Teresa beamed, holding her arms out and stepping closer to the beggar.

 "Teresa!" Simplicia exclaimed in shock, wrapping her arms around the slender Bosmer in a warm embrace. "Is that really you?"

 Teresa buried her head in the old woman's shoulder and clung to her as tightly as she could. Closing her eyes, she felt Simplicia's arms holding her close in return, and for once everything felt right with the world.

 After what seemed like far too short a time, Simplicia let go and stepped back a pace to look at Teresa. The elderly Imperial could not hide the amazement on her face, nor the pleasure.

 "Why look at you!" Simplicia beamed with pride. "Little Teresa! I did not even recognize you. You look so different. You changed your hair, and scented it too! Oh and look how you are dressed. You look like one of those forest folk, not a city villain at all."

 "Do I really look so strange?" Teresa asked. It was something she had been wondering for some time now, since even before returning to the city. "I am still the same as ever."

 "Oh my girl, you don't look the same at all," Simplicia replied. "Sure, you still have that flour-white skin, but the rest of you, it's so different. Look at all that armor, and a longbow now I see too. You walk so proud and tall, all respectable you are. You look like you are about to go out and slay some monstrous Daedra like Saint Alessia in the old stories..."

 "I do?" Teresa said, eyes widening in surprise, "Really?"

 "Really," Simplicia said quietly, stepping close again, and taking Teresa's arms in her own. "It's in your eyes. They're strong now, like they never were before. You used to always look down when people talked to you, even me, now you look 'em right back in the eye. You look like you could take on the world Teresa."

 "I... I really don't know what to say," Teresa stammered, feeling her head whirling again. "I am just glad to see you again. You're the closest thing to a mom I have ever had."

 "Oh my little Teresa..." the old Imperial gently sighed as she hugged the young Bosmer again. "Ever since I found you crying in the alley that night, I knew you were special. You were always my special little one you know."

 "So how have you been old lady?" Teresa asked, trying to slip her voice back to the casual banter they used to share before she had been taken to the prison. "How many coins have you gotten so far this morning?"

 "Four Septims!" the elderly woman exclaimed with glee. "And it's barely past mid-morn!"

 "But what about you little Teresa?" Simplicia's features lost their joy and took on a serious cast. "Something happened to you didn't it, when you disappeared? We have all been wondering where you went to. Even that bastard Volsinius asked me what you had gotten up to."

 "It's a long story, and some of it I cannot tell even you, not yet," Teresa said, losing that causal banter as she thought of the Emperor, Jauffre, and the heir. "How about we go to the Feed Bag and I'll treat you to breakfast while we catch up?"

*          *          *

 From what Simplicia had to say, no one in the city knew how Teresa had disappeared, or where she went to. She had simply vanished. Most had assumed that she had been hauled off to prison by the Imperial Watch. But after Volsinius had asked about Teresa, Simplicia had gone to the prison herself to see if she was there, only to be told that they had never arrested her. That led to darker speculations, and even Simplicia herself had begun to fear that Teresa had met her end in some dark alley.

 It was late afternoon by the time Teresa left the elderly woman and made her way through the city to the Waterfront. She wanted to stay, and spend the entire day with Simplicia. To everyone in the city, even the other street urchins, Simplicia - Simplicia the Slow as they called her - was nothing but one more pile of human wreckage. But to Teresa there was no one in the world more important.

 Still, she had things to do, Teresa thought. She needed to get back to her squat and dig up her mortar and pestle. Then she could start working on the ingredients she had gathered since leaving Chorrol.

 In the past she always had to buy the alchemical ingredients she made her potions with. That, and only selling them to the Imperial City's underbelly, seriously limited the profit she made. Usually it was just enough to get her something to eat and pay off the local protection racketeers.

 The Thieves Guild tried to stop the ruffians, she knew, but every time they squashed one gang of punks another sprang up in its place. In places like the Waterfront there was always someone desperate and ruthless enough to do anything to get what they wanted. That would never change.

 Maybe now she would start selling her potions to that Breton woman in the Gilded Carafe instead, Teresa thought. She had always been nice when Teresa bought her supplies. So was the man at the Main Ingredient. Yes, Teresa thought, that would be just the thing.

 Making her way through the city streets, Teresa was once again intensely aware of how the walls of the city seemed to press in around her. It felt so confined, she thought. All grey and hard, it reminded her of the prison cell. She wished she could be outside and in the forest again, where everything was so green and endless and full of life.

 But wasn't this home? she thought, where she belonged?

 As she entered the tunnel that led to the Waterfront, she started to wonder about that. Ever since she had come back, everything seemed so strange. The city had changed somehow. Become smaller, different. It was not the place she remembered, nor were its people.

 By the time she exited the tunnel and was back out into the open air of the Waterfront, Teresa felt distinctly uncomfortable. She saw that the Marie Elena was back in port again as she walked along the docks. Returned from her latest expedition of piracy no doubt, Teresa thought. Everyone knew that her crew did not come by their 'trade goods' honestly, including the watch. If the latter could prove it the entire gang of cutthroats would be floating face down in the harbor. One thing the Empire did not go soft on was piracy.

 She stopped then, drew the bow from her back and a string from one of her belt pouches. Looping one end of the flax string around the bottom nock of the bow, she then placed that end of the bow stave against the instep of her right foot. Taking the top nock of the stave with her left hand, she pulled it toward her while using her right hand to pull the center of the bow in the opposite direction. Leaning into it, she used all of her body to flex the yew far enough for her to fit the other end of the string around the horn of the top nock.

 Finished, she returned the now ready bow to her back and walked on as casually as before. In the Elven Gardens walking with a strung bow would get the attention of the watch immediately. But here on the Waterfront no one paid any mind.

 Some of the pirates were lounging around the dock next to their ship as Teresa walked by, one of them singing a dirty song about a lady from Wayrest. He stopped as she came near, and gave her a hard, appraising look. So did the other pirates. She noticed hands drifting toward sword hilts, and let her own drift to the arrow bag at her hip. No one said a word. Teresa gave back their stares, and did not flinch or hesitate as she walked by and further down the dock.

 She breathed a sigh of relief once she was clear of them. Had she just stared down the worst band of killers on the docks? she thought. Was she mad? In the past she would have scampered off into the shadows as soon as they looked at her, not that they had ever paid her any heed before in the first place. She had never been worth their while. Not until today at least.

 Things really have changed, Teresa thought. I have changed.

 Turning down an alley off the docks, she made her way past a string of run down warehouses, taverns, and brothels. Then she was in the shanty town she knew all too well. Nothing more than a random sprawl of rickety wooden shacks, the air stank of urine, feces, and sweat. Still, it was better than the sewer, Teresa thought as she plunged into the maze of rambling buildings.

 Finding the hovel she called home, she pushed aside the back door, which was nothing more than a few wooden boards nailed together and propped up against an opening in the wall. The light of a small fire illuminated the single messy room within, revealing two men. One was a skinny Breton, and the other a stocky but hard-looking Nord. The Nord immediately laid his hand on the unsheathed axe lying on the floor next to him, while the Breton slid down the wall away from where Teresa stood.

 Damn! Teresa cursed silently at herself. She was so deep in her thoughts that she had not been paying attention. She had always peeked through the cracks in the walls to see if the shack was empty before she went in, she thought. You never knew who might decide to take the place over.

 Without thinking, Teresa pulled the bow from her back. She did not reach for an arrow yet, but her other hand did drift in that direction. She stared directly into the eyes of the Nord, trying to gauge him. She could already see that the Breton was no threat. But the blond northerner looked to be a different story altogether.

 "This is our shack," the Nord spat with a cold glare in his eyes. "Git out!"

 "I used to live here," Teresa said evenly. "What happened to Geen-Rana?"

 "I don' know no Green-Ran," the Nord stared back, hand drifting closer to his axe. "This place was empty when we found it. It's ours now, fair and square."

 Teresa wondered how much of that was true, if any of it. Well, she thought, if Geen-Rana was dead, there was nothing she could do to help the Argonian now. Hopefully she had been more cautious than herself, and saw the interlopers first and simply decided to look elsewhere for a roof.

 "Okay," she said, still staring at the Nord. "I'll just get my stuff and go."

 "You do that," he said, patting the blade of his axe. "And don't get ideas, or I'll send you straight to Oblivion."

 Teresa did not say a word, or even nod. Her heart was racing and her palms felt damp within the leather pads of her gauntlets. Still, she moved deeper into the shack, and without taking her eyes off the two, she used her free hand to pull up a loose floor stone against the back wall. She drew forth a small bag, really just a thin blanket folded over and tied off with string.

 Teresa did not pause to look within it. She did not want to take her eyes off the Nord. She just hoped what meager belongings she possessed were still within. With what she came for in hand, she backed her way out the door and down the alley outside, until she was sure the two would not come after her. Then she collapsed in a trembling heap and wondered what on Nirn had gotten into her?

*          *          *

 After she had calmed her nerves, Teresa got back on her feet and made her way through the winding alleys that made up the shantytown until she finally came to a familiar shack. She hoped Methredhel was still living there, and this time she knocked on the door rather than simply barging in.

 She heard low voices through the dilapidated walls, then footsteps, and finally saw a familiar pair of brown eyes staring at her through a crack in the boards.

 "What do you want?" a cautious voice ventured through the door.

 "Can't an old friend just stop by to say hello?" Teresa said with a faint smile. "It's me, Teresa."

 "Teresa?" she heard the voice say with surprise. The sound of a bolt being pulled back came to her ears, and a moment later the door opened and Teresa was greeted by the sight of a brown-haired Bosmer woman, also dressed in leather and holding a bow in one hand. It was Methredhel, Teresa knew, and she felt a tremendous sigh of relief flow through her as the other wood elf caught her up into a warm hug.

 "It is so good to see you again girl!" Methredhel exclaimed. "We thought you were dead."

 "For a while I thought I was too," Teresa said in agreement as Methredhel let go of her and led her though the doorway. The other Bosmer wasted no time bolting the door behind her, and this time it was her roommate Adanrel, yet another Bosmer woman, who gathered Teresa up in a welcome hug.

 Their shack was a simple, one-room affair, as were most of the hovels in the Waterfront shantytown. A long table sat near the door, with the hearth next to it. A single rattan bed sat in a corner on the opposite wall. A bedroll lay on the floor beside it, and a third was rolled up nearby. There was a chest that Teresa knew contained all of Methredhel and Adanrel's belongings, and a small cupboard for plates and pots. It was not much, but it was clean and free of vermin, unlike most of the other shacks of the Waterfront.

 "What happened to you?" Adanrel asked, looking at Teresa in amazement. "You don't look a thing like yourself. Now you look more like Methredhel in all that leather."

 "It's a long story," Teresa breathed. "Have either of you seen Geen-Rana?"

 "Oh yes, she has been staying with Damian Magius," Adanrel said. "They have been quite the couple since you disappeared."

 "You have not been back to your old squat have you Teresa?" Methredhel asked. "Because a real hard-case named Regner moved in there while you were gone."

 "So I found out," Teresa sighed as she unstrung her bow and laid its stave against the wall. She felt relieved that her Argonian roommate was safe and sound, and hoped that her new love affair would work out for her. She deserved some happiness, Teresa thought.

 "You went there?" Adanrel said in shock.

 "I had to get my stuff," Teresa said, untying the blanket containing her belongings and spreading them out on the table before sitting down. A few coins, some empty potion vials, her mortar and pestle, a battered plate, cup, bowl, and assortment of eating utensils, and finally a painted woodcarving of a unicorn. Her entire life in the Imperial City was spread out on the little wooden table. There was certainly not much to show for it, Teresa thought.

 "You went in there with Regner!" Methredhel exclaimed. "He's on the run from Skyrim. They say he killed two people there. Are you mad?"

 "I had to get my things," Teresa said again, although looking at them now, they seemed like a pretty stupid thing to risk her life for. "I wasn't going to just leave it to him and that Breton."

 "What happened to you?" Adanrel said, looking at Teresa as if she were a stranger. "You were never like this before."

 Teresa shrugged. She could not explain it herself. Ever since she had met the Emperor the world had changed. No, she thought, she had changed. She was not sure how, or even what she had become. But it was certainly not who she used to be. That had been becoming increasingly clear ever since she had returned to the city.

 "It's been a long day." Teresa said, feeling exhaustion creeping in. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

 "Of course you can." Methredhel said emphatically now, laying a welcoming hand on Teresa's arm. "There is always room for an old friend."

 "Thank you," Teresa said, the hint of a smile crossing her features. Then she looked the other Bosmer in the eyes and covered her hand with her own. "And thank you for what you taught me about using a bow. It saved my life."

 Methredhel nodded, squeezing her hand in reply. Teresa could see the questions in the other Bosmer's eyes. Questions that she had herself, yet had no answers for. She was glad that Methredhel did not push for more.

 They spent the rest of the evening talking about the old times, when they were younger. The more they talked, the more surreal it felt to Teresa. It was like they were talking about someone else, she thought. Someone Teresa had never known. Even Methredhel and Adanrel herself seemed like strangers. She knew them, remembered all the things they had done together. But none of it felt connected to her anymore.

 She went to sleep early, feeling not only exhausted, but distinctly out of place. When dawn came she was already awake. Dressing as quietly as she could, she gathered up her meager belongings, strung her bow, and made her way to the door.

 "You aren't coming back are you?" she stopped at the quiet sound of Methredhel's voice.

 "I don't belong here anymore." Teresa breathed quietly, looking back at the small rattan bed where the other Bosmer lay.

 "I know you can't talk about whatever it is that happened to you," Methredhel said. "But someday, if you can, I am a good listener."

 "And a good friend too," Teresa said with the tiniest of smiles. "Shadow hide you both."

 Then she was gone.

*          *          *

 Teresa walked through the Waterfront without incident. It felt nearly empty in fact. At this time of the morning most of its denizens were fast asleep. Usually she was too, she thought with amusement. She unstrung her bow before she left the tunnel to the Temple District and the rest of the city. This time she did not start when the watchmen at the gate greeted her courteously, and even managed a kind word of her own in response without too much difficulty. 

 She made her way to the Market District and found that it was already bustling with workmen, although the throngs of shoppers were still hours away. Simplicia should be up and about, Teresa thought. She always tried begging from the men delivering fresh bread to the many shops and street vendors in the early morning hours.

 Teresa was taking a shortcut through the alley between Rindar's Staffs and Edgar's Discount Spells when she came upon a curious sight. A Khajiit whose lithe body was covered in snow white fur sat at the mouth of the alley. The hair on her head was red and worn in braids held back by a headband. Teresa could not help but to notice the similarity with her own pale skin and crimson hair.

 The Khajiit had her back to one of the alley walls and seemed to all the world to be nothing but one more street urchin with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Only her fur was too clean, and her muscles too well toned for her to be a street person. While her clothing was far from rich, it was not the patched and tattered garb that a street rat would wear either. As Teresa came up the alley behind her, she noticed that the Khajiit was looking across the main avenue that ran through the district, at a row of shops that lined a small plaza.

 "I did not think Khajiit came with white fur?" Teresa found herself asking as she approached. "It looks lovely."

 "I did not think Bosmer did either," the Khajiit replied with a smile, then turned her head to look at Teresa. "I like it. People might think we are twins."

 Teresa smiled faintly at that. Obviously the Khajiit had been watching her from the corner of her eye. She at least had some skill as a thief, Teresa thought, assuming that was what she must be. Although she had never heard of a thief being awake at this time in the morning.

 Teresa passed by without a further word and turned down the main boulevard. She had other things on her mind than new members of the Thieves Guild. Dodging between workers dropping off baskets of bread, she was tempted to try to filch one. Yet there was hardly any point now that she had money, she prudently mused. Old habits die hard, she thought.

 Teresa found Simplicia at an intersection ahead and wrapped the elderly woman in a warm embrace. She did not find it at all difficult to talk the beggar into spending the day with her at the Merchants Inn. Not that she had ever found it difficult to persuade Simplicia to do anything for her.

 The room was expensive, even compared to her recent extravagances, but Teresa did not begrudge the money. Ever since returning from her odyssey every moment she spent with the beggar seemed more important than ever. They spent the rest of the day talking while Teresa used her mortar and pestle to grind down the alchemical materials she had gathered into potions.

 "You really have changed Teresa," Simplicia said at one point, sitting back to look over the slender Bosmer from head to toe. "I cannot believe how different you are."

 "For the better I hope," Teresa ventured, looking up from the vial she was filling with green liquid.

 "Definitely for the better," Simplicia said with a smile, and then came up to hug Teresa, nearly causing her to spill the potion. "I am so proud of you girl. You have done so well for yourself."

 Suddenly Teresa felt like she was ten years old again. Whenever Simplicia held her she felt that way. Carefully putting down the vial so it would not tip over, Teresa wrapped her arms around the older woman and laid her head against her breast. Closing her eyes, Teresa simply sat there listening to her heart beating as Simplicia gently rocked her back and forth. When Simplicia finally did let go and sat down beside her, Teresa looked back up at her and could not contain a wide smile.

 "I have to sell my potions once I am done," Teresa said. "Then let's eat here tonight. Anything you want."

 They did just that, but as much as Teresa basked in the glow she felt whenever she was around Simplicia, she could not stop the feeling of the walls closing in around her, or of being an outsider.

 "You should be going now dear," Simplicia herself said quietly after their meal. "You cannot stop fidgeting."

 "Simplicia I..." Teresa stammered, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to remain in the city any longer either.

 "I know," The elderly Imperial said. "I know. But you cannot spend your entire life looking after an old git like me. You are young. You need to be out living life."

 "I'll be back," Teresa said, giving the old woman a hug. "I promise."

 She left Simplicia most of the money she had earned from selling her potions. The beggar tried to stop her, but Teresa would not have it. For Teresa's entire life Simplicia had been taking care of her. It was the least she could do in return, she thought. Leaving herself just enough to buy some traveling food and a few nights board, she packed her things and was off.

 She made her way west through the city, until she was finally back to where she had entered two days ago, at the great western bridge. This time she did not set her feet to the mighty pavestones that made up its span however. Instead she walked down to the lakeshore and wandered along the beach to the north until the sun began to dip over the horizon.

 Teresa sat at the edge of the water and watched the sun set along its surface. The colors faded from orange to red, then from red to purple, taking her breath away. The air was clear in her lungs, and the only sound that came to her ears was the soft buzzing of insects.

 Closing her eyes, she could see the Emperor's face in her mind. He was smiling.

 Finally, Teresa knew that she was home.