THE ELDER SCROLLS: AFTERMATH
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...he laughed and swung his sword, running into the rain of Kyne to slaughter their Ayleid captives, screaming, "O Aka, for our shared madness I do this! I watch you watching me watching back! Umaril dares call us out, for that is how we made him!" And it was during these fits of anger and nonsense that Pelinal would fall into the Madness, where whole swaths of lands were devoured in divine rampage to become Void, and Alessia would have to pray to the Gods for their succor, and they would reach down as one mind and soothe the Whitestrake until he no longer had the will to kill the earth in whole.
The Song of Pelinal, Volume 6: On His Madness
Alessascia Emeveria Marilotta Cardes
City Isle
Cyrodiil, The Empire
Letting out a sigh, the ruling Monarch of the Empire - or rather, what was left of it - swirled the wine in her glass as she looked at the White Gold tower from atop the balcony of one of her manors, outside of the Imperial City. She owned many, but this one was perhaps her favorite, for both its location and its history. Located outside of the Imperial City, on the City Isle, it gave her a more calm and natural environment, somewhat secluded from civilization but still close enough to the actual City for her to get there with little time. It's history was rather interesting, she had found. Previously, it had been built to serve as the Dominion's embassy outside of the Imperial City, on top of the ruins of what had once been some creation of the Ayleid. It had partially burnt down during the war her father had fought, and had never been restored - what few diplomats the Dominion would send were to be kept inside of the city's Elven Gardens district, kept under a close guard by the City Watch. Instead, her aunt, after ascending to the position of Regent, had it rebuilt into a private manor. Emptying her glass of its contents, Alessascia Cardes decided that that had been a very good decision indeed.
Taking one final look at the starry skies above, Emeveria went back inside, placing her glass down on the closest table as she found one of her servants, a Bosmer going by the name of Nivaerwen, quickly taking off the heavy fur cloak she had been wearing to keep herself warm. The nights had been growing colder by the day, and winter was most definitely coming soon. She smiled softly as behind her, the balcony door was closed and locked. No assassins coming in that way - at least not without alerting the guard, anyway. An unfortunate necessity, but then she supposed any reasonable person would lock their doors at night, regardless of potential assassinations or not, anyway. Changing into a nightgown, she went through her schedule for the next day. Come the dawn, following breakfast, she and her following would return for the Imperial City and the White Gold Tower, where she was to meet with several officials as usual, and a newly appointed general coming all the way from Skyrim more specifically. The man had been waiting on it for a few days, now, apparently, and while she could've invited him over to her manor instead like she had with others, but considering the man's fresh new position, she considered it to be a good idea to meet with him in a more public location - from atop her throne. Indeed, she was quite curious to learn more of the man, as well as to ensure his loyalty, unfortunately a rare good sometimes, these days.
The Bosmer having scurried off to her own little corner of the room to sleep - her guard having insisted that their Empress not be left alone for but a single moment - Emeveria lay down in her own bed, closing her eyes, breathing softly as she dreamed of a world without schemers, politics, rivals, and potential assassins. It was a world that had never really existed, and never would be, save for in her dreams. Not that that would stop her. What ambitions, what aspirations could one have without dreams, after all? Dreaming of a better Empire, a better world, the young empress slept, gaining what little rest she could get before another day at court would dawn, another day amidst the schemers and opportunists she had grown to loathe so much.