The White Sparrow [Elder Scrolls]

Rise Again

    A groan of pleasure escaped Vulioth's lips as the warm water ran through her hair, rinsing away years of dirt, sweat and blood. She had dropped her illusion and reverted back to her Daedric form. Her figure wasn't as full as it had been on Oblivion, actually her ribs were poking out at odd angles. Her black markings didn't help, either. The tattoos used to compliment her figure, flowing with the shape of her body. Now they were shrunken and distorted.
    She grimaced and continued to scrub herself, returning her skin to an untarnished red and black. Once she was satisfied, she quickly rubbed a scented oil over her body. It smelled of nightshade flowers and honey. Vulioth let it dry and started to dress. First her trousers, then her corset. She didn't dare put on the lovely cape just yet, although her senses screeched at her to.
    "Feel better?" Roven walked into the room, his hair still damp. He was rubbing his eyes.
    "Much..."
    "So, what's this plan of yo-" he had finally looked up and saw the Daedra standing in front of him.
    "Sorry," she hissed, although she didn't right her illusion.
    "Don't be. I'm just not used to dealing with Daedra," he stared at her, unblinking. His throat was agonizingly dry and he quickly swallowed.
    "Yeah, figured. Anyway, the plan. "
    "Yeah."
    Vulioth pointed to the map on the wall, it depicted the Imperial City, "I'll cause a distraction in the Arena District, bring all the guards running. You do what you need to do then we leave. We might end up nabbing some horses from the stables..."
    "I can deal with that. How long will this give me?"
    "How long do you need?"
    "Twenty minutes tops."
    "I'll give you thirty."
    Roven nodded and swallowed hard. This was big, bigger than anything they ever hoped to accomplish. Vulioth traced her finger around the Auri-El Plaza, what used to be the Talos Plaza. She was talking, mapping out their rout away from the city; black marked finger trailing down the bridge and off the map.
    "What are those?" Roven asked, concentrating on the tribal-like black marks that curved around her arms, neck and face.
    "Tattoos." She answered simply.
    "Any particular reason?"
    "Roven, this isn't the time to give you a lesson in Daedric Culture. Look, let's just get back to Skyrim."
    "Okay."
    Vulioth took a deep breath and started packing the little blue bottles that littered the room into her bag. She had requested at least twenty of them, quite a few but she needed the her spell to last.
    "Listen, when you hear the guards come running, do your thing. Then get out of there as fast as you can, and use the scroll I gave you. Got it?"
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "Good, let's go." She hooked on the long cloak around her body and turned to Roven, righting her Breton illusion.
    Roven pulled up his leather hood and wiped the corners of his mouth, before holding the door open for her. Vulioth walked out, hood drawn; the cloak billowed gracefully behind her. They walked to the door of the Inn and she couldn't help but smile as the Innkeeper spit out his mead. He obviously hadn't been expecting that great of a change.
    The sun illuminated the Market District, making all the signs gleam. It was a site to see, to bad they wouldn't be there for much longer. They nodded at each other and went their separate ways, her to the arena, him to the palace.
    She stepped into the Arena District, noting the large battling arena hadn't changed to much. She waltzed in towards the bet-keeper, placed a little bag of coins in his hands and muttered the word "blue." It had always been her team, the Blue Team was the greatest in her day and she didn't expect them to be any less amazing. The Bosmer looked at her retreating figure as she climbed the stairs onto the balcony.
    She took her seat among the nobles and waited as the announcer introduced the fighters. They ran into the arena, weapons unsheathed. The crowd roared and clapped as they took their places. A bell rang, signaling the beginning of the fight. The fighters rushed at each other and she took her chance. With a flick of her wrist, the power drained from her own illusion and the blue fighter grew in size, getting bigger and bigger by the second. Slowly his skin turned to scales and his screams turned to guttural roars. As the fighter had began to sprout wings, her cover had melted away. She was now in her full deadric glory. She pulled her hood up over her head, trying to conceal her horns. 
The fighter ate his opponent and took to the skies, the people in the grandstands screeched and ran for the exits. She slipped down after a screaming Altmer and leisurely plucked the money out of the bet-keepers hands. She flinched as he backed away from her.
"Deadra," He hissed, his golden eyes flashing. His voice had been lost in the ruckus and she slipped away.
    Guards pooled at the gates, shooting arrows at the fighter. He set down jets of flames into the crowd, incinerating guards where they stood. They were quickly replaced by guards from the other districts. Spells were being fired and she tilted back a potion.
    Suddenly a blizzard ripped through the district, clouding everyone in a storm of ice and snow. The signal. She moved her way to the Palace District, slugging another potion down. Roven was waiting at the gate, watching the snow wreak havoc.
    "Got it." He gripped his satchel a little tighter and they slipped away from the chaos.
    "Let's get out of here." Vulioth took the lead and ran around the castle. She felt her energy draining again.
    Roven ran as fast as he could, holding his bag closed and head down. It jingled with his cargo, chiming off the deserted walls of the palace district. They slipped into the Auri-El Plaza and ran full tilt towards the last set of gates.
    "Roven," Vulioth puffed, slowing to open a bottle, "I can't hold it much longer!"
    "We're almost there, suck it up!" They bolted to the stables, spooking the stable hand. He yelled at them as they jumped on two of the closest horses. A tall white stallion with shimmering blue eyes and a simple black mare, who whinnied in protest but complied anyway. With a swift kick to the soft spot in front of their flanks, they were off. Leaving the stable hand to screech obscenities after them, they galloped across the bridge.
    Vulioth felt her spell snap. The dragon, that once dominated the sky, plummeted to earth. She let out a sigh and slumped over on the horse. This journey might just be a bit more exhausting than she thought.
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A/N
Ayyyyyyyeeeeeee. Update for the win. I also noticed that this story is close to 200 reads! It's amazing!!! :D Anyway, I hope you all know the first bit of Crime of the Century is up. Roven's story awaits! See yah my lovelies! ❤️❤️