This is my first Oblivion fic, so be gentle! I took the title of this chapter from the second Discworld game. The title of the story is from the novel/bible.

I don't own Oblivion, or anything like that.

This first chapter is a shortie, but the rest should be longer.

Chapter 1 - Missing Presumed ?

Dark grey clouds formed a skin across the sky, heavy with the threat of thunder and lightning, yet the sun still shone across the length of Cyrodiil. Golden light illuminated the underneath of the storm clouds, giving the impression that the world was one great wall-less hall. The electricity in the atmosphere leant an extra air of anticipation and excitement.

As if I need any more, thought a solitary robed figure, making its way up a pathway to a small house, nestled in the hills.

When the figure reached the doorway, it turned to regard the way it had come. The city of Bruma could be seen clearly to the southeast, and from it snaked the silver road, meandering away until it disappeared into the wooded heartlands. The figure cast its gaze beyond, where it could just glimpse the pinnacle of White Gold Tower, glimmering like a spear of burning silver in the defiant sun.

Disgusted, the figure turned its black clad back to the majestic view, and vanished into gloom of the house.

xox

At the same time, a dark rider was flying through the imperial reserve, her black steed passing like a shadow and a whisper on the wind. From her saddle there swung a head, shrivelled and shrunken with age, fastened by the hair to the pommel. She rode like someone about to lose everything.

xox

The shadow on the wall told him the sun was going down. The last beam of the day's light falling over the word 'Applewatch', carved into the stone mantelpiece, the letters eerily stretched and elongated by the late sun. The robed figure stood motionless on the cold flagstone floor, the only sounds to be heard were the singing birds and the beat of his own heart. And something else… Lucien stiffened, straining to make out the third sound, willing his own heart to be still.

Crunch.

That was the sound of a footstep in the snow, so faint that few people but he would have heard it.

Crunch crunch.

Was that one person, or more? His silencer, or someone… else?

xox

As the sun sunk behind the western hills, and the land was cast into shadow, four black-robed figures approached the farmhouse. The evening star shone bright in the sky before the rise of Masser and Secunda. The figures paused, forming an ominous semicircle around the door to the house. The tallest figure stretched out its hand towards the door, and in a flash the door was thrown open; the four figures were in the farmhouse, weapons drawn.

The empty farmhouse.

Cursing, the tallest figure threw back her hood in frustration, revealing an altmer countenance, with a snub nose and little piggy eyes, narrowed in anger.

"Damn him!" spat Arquen.

xox

From the shadow of the door, the dark rider smiled a dark smile.