Into Oblivion

13

The Dremora laughed happily as he leapt through the woods with such delight and happiness pulsing through his black veins. A smile broadened across his face as the first few rays of light fell from the heavens and lightened up the treetops. Xilivicus ran up a broken log and as he came to the jagged end he flipped off and landed once more upon the soft calm grass. He sprinted even faster as such adrenaline pulsed through his veins. As he bounded out of the woods and saw a long emerald hill, he leapt from it with such agility. He felt Mara and Dibella holding him up into the air allowing him to almost fly through the golden and violet sky. The wind blew delicately across his face and as he landed he could see the Oblivion gate not so far from where he was. He had to return to Oblivion to report to Dagon about the maiden's "death". Soon, this entire crisis would be over! ... And forever would he and Elizabeth be separated.

His face softened as his heart became burdensome in his chest. In his own personal way he was restoring order to Tamerial. Elizabeth would be a memory that throughout eternity he would never forget. His violet fingertips rose and brushed across his supple lips. Oh, how he would miss her so. But this was how it was meant to be. He was sure of it.

As he crossed the green meadows he approached the gargantuan gate. His eyes lifted up to the portal and his happiness seemed drained and taken from him as if this portal was a parasite. Xilivicus lifted his mask and fitted it over his mouth as he entered the Oblivion gate. Darkness swirled around him and consumed him and as he opened his eyes he saw the Halls of Dagon's Court. The Churl quickly familiarized himself and headed off to the court. His alibi was pieced together like a puzzle and he even put questions in his way that Dagon could ask of him.

The Dremora was certain that he could pull this scam off. The doors of the Court loomed over him like the shadow of death and leisurely the Churl stepped forward. His hands curled around the golden handles and he pushed the doors open; entering without hesitation. His head lowered and he announced, "Lord Dagon—I have terrible news of-" his eyes rose.

Before Lord Dagon was a band of the assassins. They all turned to look at Xilivicus with insufferable eyes. Broga turned as well with a relaxed façade, his nostrils flaring every once and a while. The armrests of Dagon's primeval throne seemed shredded apart by the Daedric Prince's jagged ebon nails. A cagey and homicidal vibe was pulsed out from the Lord of Misery and Disaster. Dagon's black eyes shifted over to the door; fixing the abhorrence upon the Churl. "Dear Dremora Xilivicus," called out the hoarse and vile voice of Dagon which sent a frightened chill to roll down the Churl's back. "... I've been waiting for you."

Elizabeth watched as the guards opened the market district doors for her. As she entered, a guard bowed to her and said, "My, you look very lively for such an early time in the morning."

The Elf laughed softly and shrugged, "It's been a good morning, I suppose."

She entered the city and held herself back from leaping around screaming happily. Surely this would frighten the beggars. She held herself tightly and bit her lower lip trying to calm down her ever broadening smile. The breeze blew upon her warm body and encased her in such a delightful feeling. Xilivicus was alive! Oh, how her heart sang out to the heavens! She praised Mara and Dibella for keeping her heart strong. She rounded the corner and ran to the Elven Garden District. She couldn't hold back this happiness any longer! Her feet were a blur across the ground as the guards speedily opened the door for her and watched as she sprinted through with a giggle. All worries and dangers fell from her mind as she was merely enveloped in this power.

Her eyes lifted to the door of the 'King and Queen Tavern' and her smile was lost. Her father, the Hero... what were they going to say for her late return? She compiled herself and with her pale fingertips she smoothed her hair and with a deep breathe she entered the establishment. The tavern owner was wiping down the tables which held many a spilt drink. A few broken glasses lay in ruins upon the floor appearing as crystals. The owner glanced up and smiled, "Good morning, Ms. Asquerana. You are up rather early."