The Elder Scrolls – Oblivion and everything in it and thus in this fic are not mine. Bethesda Softworks owns everything about TES, I’m just a fan.

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A round, smooth stone dropped on the burnt ground and right after it a woman fell on her knees. Trembling, she crouched down on all fours, and then, quite desperately, she threw up. When she finally finished, she rolled over on her back because she was too weak to do anything else. Her face had dirt, blood and some vomit on it, and when a raindrop hit her cheek, she gasped loudly. Her eyelids shivered with each raindrop that fell on her face. It felt like cold pebbles were thrown at her sore face.

It was raining. That was the first sensible thought she had. As the rain poured on her, washing the dirt off her face and soaking her clothes and leather armor, the raindrops started feeling less like another surge of torturing sensations and more like comforting redemption. One by one, the drops softly hammered the thought of being alive into her consciousness. She carefully opened her eyes with water running down her cheeks and forehead. She looked up into the sky and saw the rain falling down. The sky was black, not hellish red as before. By the time she sat back up and realized she was sitting in front of the remains of a gate to Oblivion, she was sobbing.

With shaking hands she wiped her face, staring at the gate. There were still small fires on it, but the rain was sorting them out. The important thing was that it was closed. Her breathing was settling down and the burst of sobbing was short lived. The woman took a few deep breaths to calm herself, especially when her eyes caught a sight of people further away beyond the gate. Her blue eyes focused on them and her brain finally kicked in. The Kvatch city guards, of course, with Captain Savlian “Sweatband” Matius leading them. She got back to her feet and as she was stretching up, she noticed the black Sigil stone beside her. She picked it up and hastily kicked some dirt trying to cover the puddle of vomit.

With shaky legs she passed the remains of the gate and headed towards the guards. They looked relieved but very surprised at the ragged, small figure slowly walking in the middle of the burnt battle field in the rain. The woman’s dark cloak was soaked and dirty and her blond hair was on a very messy bun held together by wooden sticks - though two of them were about to fall off. Earlier that same night when the woman had turned up, she had been a pretty little bosmer girl, and her outfit was that of a scout or a rogue. Now she was messy, probably wounded, very tired, recovering from a state of shock by the looks of it, but most surprisingly, a hero. The men had thought the girl was an over-enthusiastic lass who had just learned how to hold a bow and was now on a quest to prove herself to the world – and her patronizing parents.

That had always been her problem. Her features were kind, pretty and frankly quite naïve. That made her look younger than she was. Now, on the other hand, she looked her age – she in her early thirties. And in fact, she was very good with the bow which was miraculously still attached to her back. The arrow vine was on her hip, and on the other side hung a short sword.

“You made it! I can’t believe you made it!” the captain bellowed laughing as she approached him. “Lina, you truly are the heroine of the hour!” the man took her hand and shook it vigorously.

The bosmer, Lina, smiled weakly. “I just did what had to be done.”

When the captain helped Lina to sit down for a moment, she drank up a small healing potion. It was enough to get her strength back but she still couldn’t take a step without being reminded of the blow she had taken on her hip. While she was treating to her wounds and getting her strength back, the captain and her men got over the closing of the Oblivion gate. It had been a crucial point in the battle against the daedra, but the city of Kvatch was still overrun by those beasts. They still had a lot to do to gain the city back and get rid of the daedra.

Lina offered to help in the fight, without a trace of doubt in her mind. She had been on the plane of Oblivion, and it had been worse than the most horrifying nightmares. She was ready to help rid the world of the sadistic daedra and defend Cyrodiil against them. Even if Kvatch was done for, they still had to be stopped or they would continue to wreck havoc the rest of the beautiful providence. When she stood back up and grabbed her bow, she nudged the captain gently.

“One more thing. Before I went into the gate I asked you about Martin..?”

“Yes, the priest. No one came out of the city while you were in there, so if he’s still alive, he’s probably in the chapel. That’s where he led a lot of civilians when this nightmare began,” captain Matius explained. “Once we’re in the city, we’ll head for the chapel anyway. Are you ready to go?”

Lina took her cloak off – it was soaked and would only hinder her movements. Then she turned back to the captain with her bow in her hand, and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Lead by the captain, Lina and the Kvatch guards headed for the gates. They were faced with the beasts of Oblivion the moment they entered the burning city. Lina fired her arrows with fearsome accuracy as the men charged them with their swords. Later on, the fight inside the city itself was a bit of a blur to Lina. The beasts were dealt with and one part of the town was won back. They headed for the chapel and that was the first place where she could catch her breath since entering the city.

She stood in the corner by the door, regaining her strength and fixing her equipment. While the captain exchanged words with a female guard who had been in the chapel, Lina saw a small group of civilians in the back. Those poor sods were the only ones left, besides the camp down the road. Lina tried to look for a priest, but from the distance she couldn’t really make out who was who. Right then the female guard stood back from the captain and yelled to the civilians to gather up – she was apparently going to escort them to the camp.

Lina’s heart was bounding in her chest when she watched the people line up. One by one they passed her and went outside after the guard. Lina stood there, examining each face with her blue eyes. A priest.. which one of you is a priest… she was about to give up hope, when the second last civilian approached the door. He was a man in his forties, he had long brown hair and was wearing a blue robe. He looked friendly but worried – no wonder, of course. He was a tall man and even though he wasn’t as fit as he could have been, he still had a good posture. His features were imperial, and the robe pointed to him being a priest.

Lina’s eyes met his as he passed her. Then he was gone, out the door, in the flaming Kvatch. Lina grinded her teeth. She had to help the guards to defend the city, but she also had to find the last heir to the throne. He had just passed her, and she had let him to. She prayed in her mind that he wouldn’t be lost again, but that she’d find him again after she had helped Kvatch. Assuming she survived, of course.