ByEmma Eastgate, writer at
Huge fan of the Elder Scrolls Games; big movie and metal fan!
Emma Eastgate

The damp cold of the Imperial City Dungeon Cell had started to numb the end of her long, dark blue fingers. She had already attempted to conjure a Destruction fireball spell to linger beside her, but she had little stamina left after the struggle with the Guards. Her Magicka had depleted and she felt weak - too weak.

Her scarlet hair had draped over her face and she huddled under the high-strung prison bars. Water trickled down the moss-covered stone that was her prison, making the air thick and heavy. The Dark Elf shifted her weight slightly and winced sharply - her shoulder blade had been caught by a lone arrow, causing a deep, aching wound across her flesh. Blood had begun to seep through the ragged clothing she had been forced to wear when they threw her in here for a crime she did not commit.

The Guards had drawn their Imperial Blades, the hilt gleaming as the reddening sun hit down on the gold. She had found the body of the Anvil Fisherman along the Gold Coast, not far from the main city. He had clearly been hidden amongst the foliage, and was covered in strange cuts and dark bruising. His face held an expression of horror - he had died seeing something dreadful. His horse and cart had no doubt raised the alarm and Guards were quickly at the scene; her first reaction was to hide - Imperial Guards would never believe a Dunmer in this part of Cyrodiil. She was correct in her thinking - in her bid to stealthily evade them through the folliage of the woodlands, her head-shawl had unraveled and caught itself on the branches, creating noise and less-than-ideal movement. She took to her heels and began fleeing, but their volley of arrows and the terrain had rendered her escape impossible. She was cornered.

"I'm innocent!" she declared, her voice stern as she raised her non-wounded arm to show she had no weapon.

"Tell it to the Emperor, criminal scum!"

"I did not kill him! Don't touch me - get your hands off of me!"

"No one breaks the law on my watch!"

Despite her protests, her pleas and her struggling, she didn't see the gauntlet swing upwards and collide with her face.

She woke in a prison, being roughly searched and occasionally hit with something blunt. Then she was thrown into the cell. The words of the Dunmer with a death wish in the cell opposite threw out his usual taunt.

"You're going to die in here, Elf,"

She raised her head slightly and glared at him with blood red eyes. He cackled maliciously and banged on the bars. It's going to take a miracle to get me out of here, she thought.

Time ticked on. The cell was graced with a beam of light and then was plunged into darkness. On and on, in a cycle. No food, no drinkable water. Nothing. Nothing but the anger that was slowly bubbling inside her chest. Nothing but the face of the dead fisherman and his terror. What had he seen? No beast that she had faced could have caused those wounds . . .

"My priority right now is to get you to safety - get that gate open!"

She raised her neck so fast it clicked. Her eyes were wide - alert. Her heart bean beating against her chest; she got to her feet, using the wall behind her as a slippery support. Guards came into view.

Accompanied by the Emperor.

"You," he whispered, as he gracefully walked forward.He was a relic - old and time-weary. His grey hair fell down his face that was lined with sadness and age. His eyes pierced hers. Upon his chest hung a thick gold chain, accompanied by a large, glittering red diamond - the Amulet of Kings.

"You are the one from my dreams."


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