The following is a continuation of The Argonian Slave, but it is not neccessary to read The Argonian Slave before reading A Life in Shadow.

The shores of the Rift were shrouded in midnight fog, and the moons and stars above burned with silent fury. It was colder here than it had any right to be, being so far south. But the wind of the mountains found refuge here, as did the hearts of men drawn to the ill side of life. Riften was the only proper city in the Rift. It was a nest of rats, ever shrouded in fog from Lake Henrich and teeming with the worst kinds of men. Only criminals had business there. Any who visited pass through quickly, hopefully with most of their gold still in their pockets.

It was when darkness fell that the unsavory did their work, sneaking about the city while the inhabitants slept. There were few out this particular night. At most there was a poor soul or two out searching for a stash of skooma, a poisonous substance that bound a man to its consumption. Few were able to resist its pull after a single taste.

This night an unexpected company went unnoticed by the scuffling addicts and the few disinterested guards that wandered the docks at this late hour. The wooden doors that closed off the inner city canal opened just enough to permit passage to a small boat and its passengers. Three youths sat toward the front, looking eagerly out upon the waters ahead while a black robed woman reclined at the stern, her arm draped across the back gunwale. Though the vessel was guided by no discernible means, it nonetheless moved deliberately through the water, parting the fog and raising nary a ripple with its passing. The fog was a fortunate occurrence. It rose well above the vessel and its passengers, cloaking their departure. Not a soul would know they had departed from the city.

From the prow, a curious sight was spotted. One of the young passengers threw their hand forward and whispered earnestly. The woman at the stern shifted her attention to the shore, saying something to her young charges. Then her head tilted slightly, as though someone unseen had whispered in her ear, after which the boat changed course toward a small rocky outcrop on the beach and the alien shadow crumpled amidst the broken rocks.

Barely recognizable as human beneath layers of dirt and river brine, was a Nord woman. Her leather armor was battered and repaired haphazardly in several places. Her reddish brown hair was matted and tangled with mud, and her face suffered a small red gash across her cheek. A dark bruise spread from her temple to her cheekbone, sending ripples of purple down her neck. Her limbs were bent and heavy, twisted in the jutting stones that had plucked her from the waves as they receded, all of her beauty masked by the aftermath of some stroke of misfortune.

It was obvious she didn't choose to lay here. The lapping of the waves against her knees stirred no response. Her mind was lost, buried deep beneath the cold waves and spinning madly with visions of the past she tried so hard to forget. It had been almost two years, but his face still haunted her, even in her dreams.

She was prepared to die and, in the shadow of her unconsciousness, she made no effort to wake. She simply waited for the Void to take her back to Sithis, if he even wanted her anymore. But her time was not yet done. The boat drew near to kiss the beach beside the dying woman. At a spoken word, the curious youths kept their seats as the robed woman stepped out upon the shore.

She approached the broken woman, ascending from sand to stone leaving all the trace of a shadow, and knelt beside her. After a moment's examination the robed woman reached out, sweeping aside several strands of muddied hair from Nord's face. There was a whispered question from the boat, to which she responded softly, "No. She will not see the Void tonight."
Placing a hand upon the Nord's forehead, the robed woman brought forth a golden light that fell upon the broken one, invigorating her body and drawing her back from the brink of death. But only just. The robed woman nodded in satisfaction as the Nord's her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths that promised she would see the coming day.

Then the robed woman leaned forward until they were only inches apart and whispered, "Hear me. Your life is not over yet. There is work to be done. Find your strength and mend yourself. Then we will meet again, Veria." And before she retreated back to the boat, she placed a kiss above Veria's right eye.

When Veria woke, there was only the light of the stars to greet her.

1 Year, 8 Months Ago

"No, no, no, no," Babette slapped the Nightshade from Veria's hand. "Don't add that yet! Do you want to poison us both? You have to grind the Deathbell seeds clockwise for at least three more minutes..." She demonstrated this with her mortar and pestle, and Veria carefully copied the movements. Babette was a skilled alchemist. This was no surprise, as she had over three hundred years of practice. When Veria first met her, she could tell Babette wasn't an ordinary child. She had the body of a girl no older than ten, but the way she spoke and carried herself was a testament to her true age.

One day, Veria worked up the courage to ask, "Babette, don't you ever wish you could have the body of an adult, rather than a child?" Her response began with a dark and unsettling giggle.
"I used to," she said. "But looking like a child has been quite useful to me. I'm never perceived as a threat. This makes hunting quite...interesting."
Babette found a home in the Dark Brotherhood years before Veria was brought to them. For a while she was wary of Veria, as she was with all outsiders. When Babette realized Veria truly held none of the prejudices of the common Tamriel mortal, and when she saw her own bloodlust reflected in Veria's eyes, Babette was proud to call her a friend. Consequently, the prices of her alchemy lessons were at last reasonable.

The potion they were making was a poison that put the drinker to sleep for several hours before finally killing them. The recipe was slightly more complicated than usual, and Veria was having trouble mustering the patience for it. She usually preferred to buy her potions rather than make them herself, but alchemy skills could be quite useful to her in the field, so she bit her lip and continued grinding.

"Is Tulian still out on a contract?" Babette asked.
Veria nodded and said, "Yes, but he should be back sometime soon. Markarth isn't far."
"Markarth again?" Babette raised an eyebrow. "Hmm...A lot of contracts there these days, it seems. Relatively speaking. Who is it this time?"
Veria shrugged. "Some nobleman, I think. Whoever it is, Tulian won't linger. Unlike you and I, he's quite efficient."
Babette chuckled. "Doesn't like to play with his prey. Never has."
Veria smiled and refocused on her mortar and pestle.

About half an hour later, they both had vials filled with reddish liquid and capped neatly with bits of cork. Babette plucked Veria's from the table and opened it. She took a drop on her finger and tasted it, spitting it immediately onto the floor. She held the vial up to the light and considered it a moment more.
"Hmm...Add a pinch more of Deathbell seed next time and it'll be perfect."
Veria nodded and scribbled a note into a small journal she kept to keep track of the things she learned from Babette.

"If you'll excuse me," Babette said with a yawn. "I feel the sun will be rising soon. I'd like to take a rest."
"Of course," Veria rose and headed for the exit. "Sleep well, Babette."
Babette nodded headed the opposite direction. Her bed wasn't far from the alchemy table.

Veria made her way through the dim caves, descending carved steps and running her hand along the cold stone walls. She emerged into the main cavern and was greeted by a wash of warm candlelight, and the gentle roaring of a waterfall. The main cavern was vast, and many of her brothers and sisters spent their free time here. In one corner was a waterfall streaming in from some underground creek and pooling into a small pond. Above it hung a seal of Sithis, made from stained glass that glimmered red and gold in the candlelight. It was the mark of the dread father, the one that watched their work and embraced the souls they sent to him.

Veria was heading for training area to work on her marksmanship when she noticed two fellow assassins entering the cavern from the cave that led to the entrance. A Nord woman and an Argonian were discussing something as they walked. Astrid, the woman, was no doubt pestering him about taking so much time on his contract. As the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, it was her business to keep contracts running efficiently, and she couldn't have contractors thinking the Brotherhood was dwindling. They were dwindling, but that was beside the point. If people knew, it would be bad for business.
At the sight of them, Veria smiled and hurried toward them.
"Tulian!" she said, wrapping her arms around her beloved. Tulian smiled and returned the embrace. His scales were cool against her skin, and even after almost two years together Veria never tired of the sensation. Astrid excused herself as they shared a passionate kiss. When they got started there was no interrupting them. She would continue her conversation with Tulian some other time.

It must have been the small hours of the morning, but Veria didn't feel sleepy. She wrapped her arms around Tulian's waist and pressed into him. They both knew what was coming. The bedrooms didn't offer as much privacy as one would hope, but there was a perfectly good dungeon in the Sanctuary that no one saw fit to fill with prisoners in quite some time.

Veria shuffled down the road. Every moment was agony, and every step threatened to fail and send her sprawling across the beaten road. The sun had not yet risen, and the mist from Lake Henrich so choked the road that Veria didn't see the Riften gate until she was a mere five strides from it. The guards that stood on either side of heavy doors saw the broken woman approaching, and considered her for a moment. She was covered in mud and her legs wobbled, threatening to give way. One hand clutched her side, as if trying to hold her torso together, while the other dangled beside her. Her face was cast downward, devoid of life. She wasn't a threat in the least, and certainly not strong enough to resist a shakedown.

"Halt!" the guard said as she neared. She stopped, but did not look up. "You don't look so good, friend. Pay the toll, say...100 coins, and you can get your wounds tended to-"
Veria seized the guard by the front of his tunic and pulled him toward her. She stared into the holes of his helmet, forcing him to stare back. Her eyes were a void, set ablaze by fury. The strength of her grip was shocking, considering the state she was in. She was so fast that the other guard barely had time to react. By the time he drew his weapon, she was already speaking.
Her voice so much more terrifying than it had any right to be, coming from such a beautiful face. "Don't screw with me," she said. "Or I'll feed your eyes to the skeevers in the Ratway."

Under his helmet, the guard was sweating. He gulped, desperately hoping she couldn't see the terror in his eyes. "There's no need for that," he said, composing himself. "I didn't realize you've been to Riften before-" Veria threw him back to his place beside the door and pushed on. "Welcome to Riften," the guard said hastily, mostly out of habit. She left the guards behind and shuffled her way into the city.

Her legs could go no further, and buckled beneath her. She shot out a hand to stop herself from falling onto her face, but the edges of her vision darkened. She tried to stand, but only found the ground coming closer. Her face made contact with the cold, wet stone, and everything went dark.

Veria's whine echoed through the caves. Her arms were drawn up above her and secured tightly with leather strips around her wrists. The iron bars of the cage pressed into the skin of her back with every movement. Tulian's chest pressed against her breasts, and his tongue danced around her ear. With every push her blood was set ablaze. Heat, intoxicating in it's intensity, spread from a spark beneath her stomach to the tip of her tongue. Veria felt him inside her, his scales rubbing against her skin like tiny river stones. They scratched her, they dominated her. They satisfied a hunger in the pit of her stomach that never truly went away.

Even before she was of age, when she lived with her father in Windhelm, the hunger was always there. She used to satisfy it in secret, with men both single and married. It used to be her prime concern, hunting them down, seducing them, and finding another, all without getting caught. It was fun for a long time until she met Tulian. In him she found more pleasure than any of the weathered Nords of Windhelm. She also found solace in his arms, contentment that always eluded her before she met him. He helped her realize her love of domination, of taking life, and brought her to the Dark Brotherhood.
Veria was happy. She wanted to spend the rest of her days in the Brotherhood, with Tulian.

Veria's toes curled around the iron lattice of the cage. Their movement slowed, and Veria sighed heavily. "Tulian," she sighed. He replied with a kiss, and she returned it. His reptilian tongue danced in her mouth, and laughed internally. They're mouths were so asynchronous, it was a miracle they could kiss at all.
Finally, Tulian untied her wrists and took her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her mind wandered, and she thought of the beautiful stained glass effigy of Sithis they had in the Sanctuary.

"Tulian?" She said.
"Yes?"
"Do you remember when I told you about my dream? The one that Sithis sent me?"
"Ah, yes," he said, looking back. "That wasn't long after we met. Sithis blessed you with that vision, and brought you home to me." His arms drew her closer and he sighed. Veria knew the memory wasn't all good for him. Even if he gained a lover, he lost a friend that day. "Why do you bring that up now?" He asked.
"I was just wondering..." she paused, and he waited patiently. "To set me on the right path, you arranged for me to kill your friend."
"He was your captor," Tulian reminded her. "Sithis wanted him dead."

"I know," Veria replied. "I wanted him dead, too. More than anything. But he was your only friend outside the Brotherhood. You must resent me for killing him."
"No, my love," Tulian turned her face so he could look into her eyes. "He was my only remaining tie to the world outside the Brotherhood. I was weak to hold onto his friendship. I was away from the Brotherhood for many years while I helped him. Sithis wanted me back. He wanted you in his family. Killing Bedrel was the only course of action to be taken. You are a blessing, my love. I don't resent you for a thing." He brought his lips down to hers again, and they shared another passionate kiss.
"I love you, Tulian," she said.
"I love you, Veria."

Veria was itching for a new contract. She spent the day with Tulian, and with his blessing went to Nazir for a new job. He was a Redguard, and chose to wear the traditional clothing of his homeland instead of the Dark Brotherhood armor. He was sarcastic sometimes, but he always had some remark about a job that made Veria smile.
"Veria," he said as she approached. "It's about time you came looking for work. I have a contract for you."
"Don't think I'm getting lazy, Nazir," she said with a playful punch at his shoulder. "I just wanted to see Tulian first."
He grunted and handed her the written contract. "Not the most glamorous of contracts, but I think you'll like it."

Veria opened the contract and skimmed Nazir's rough handwriting. "Ah," she said. "Solitude. I haven't been there in a while. Not many people there would contact us."
"You should go soon. Shouldn't keep our contractors waiting."
Veria pocketed the contract and took a moment to gather supplies. She donned her Brotherhood armor and weapons, some food for the road, and gave Tulian a goodbye kiss.

And then she was off Solitude on what was to be quite an enjoyable job.

This introduction to Life in Shadow was written by ArgonianLick with help from LadyDragon1316. Check out her story, The Wolf of Cyrodiil. This story will hopefully lead into her next installment of The Wolf of Cyrodiil, The Lady of the Isles.

This story will be a little different from Argonian Slave, focusing more on Veria's journey as a character rather than romantic encounters, although romance will still play a part. Thank you for reading A Life in Shadow. More chapters to come.