Author's Note: Kind of slow at first but it picks up soon enough. Please enjoy.
He dreamt of someone sleeping peacefully in his bed, when a shadowy, gaunt figure silently entered the room. Approaching the bed, the figure leaned down and sank its fangs into the sleeping person. After a few moments, the pale figure rose, blood dripping down its chin. As color flowed back into the vampire's face, as its features filled out, he recognized the face as his own.
Cassius awoke screaming in horror, grasping in his bed for the blade that normally resided beside by him in him sleep. He clutched at nothing but air, blind panic gripping into him. Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders, gripping him tightly. He tried his hardest to swing at his attacker, feeling his fists slam into their head, connecting with cold steel. He thrashed about, trying to get loose. He would not die in his own bed like cattle to the slaughter, he would fight to his last breath. He heard his attacker crying out, and then more hands were pressing into him, trying to subdue him. He thrashed even more, punching and kicking each and every one of them. There seemed to be four, maybe five, all crying for his death. He would not allow it. He would not go down so-
A gauntleted hand rang out across his ear and suddenly his senses seemed to be returned to him.
"Sire, you need to calm down! You're safe here!" a voice bellowed at him. He immediately stopped thrashing and went limp. His former attackers immediately released him, the ringing of chainmail sounding out in the small room. Cassius relaxed and stared about him, suddenly alert and focused. Sir Thedret was nursing his jawbone, a bruise forming from where Cassius' fist had met it. Thedret was Cassius' second-in-command of the Knights of the Nine, those chosen by the Aedra themselves to defend all of Tamriel by Their word. Surrounding his captain were a few of the other knights, Sir Areldur, Sir Geimund, and his brother Sir Gukimir. Directly beside Thedret was Sir Lathon. The young knight had a look of horror upon his face mirrored by his fellow knights. Cassius turned to look at Thedret once more.
"What happened?" he asked Thedret. The Redguard gave his commander a look, not knowing how to respond to his leader's question without upsetting him.
"What do you last remember sire?" he questioned Cassius.
"I remember..." he thought back, but his memory was hazy. "I remember heading to a cave... to deal with that menace threatening Skingrad..." he thought even harder and came up with nothing.
"Do you remember what happened in the cave sire?" Lathon offered. Cassius regarded the former squire, a Redguard like Sir Thedret.
"There was a great battle." Cassius remembered. "The foes were powerful, strong and agile." He thought some more. "I cornered their leader, and we did combat. He was stronger than all the rest, faster, but Talos guided my blade. I overcame my foe. But then..." Cassius struggled to think.
"And then what?" Came Sir Areldur's curious voice. The Altmer seemed anxious. Cassius began to notice that the other knights other than Thedret and Lathon were giving him a wide berth.
"Pain." Cassius remembered. His fists clenched as he thought of the blinding explosion in his shoulder, then his gut, and finally his...
Cassius gasped. "How long have I been out?" He asked his knights.
"A week, sire." Came Thedret. "Sir Areldur and Sir Avita tended to your wounds as best as they could but their efforts were in vain..." Cassius looked down to his bed and saw them to be covered in blood, his blood. Stained rags were piled all around the floor of his private chambers. Cassius could see the de facto captain of the knights eying him. Did he sense fear in the normally unshakable Redguard?
Cassius looked down to assess his body. Bandages wrapped around his entire body but he felt no pain. Curious. He began to undo a bandage around his arm. His knights watched with curiosity. The more he unraveled the bandage, the more surprise crept into their normally stoic faces. Cassius felt as if he could almost smell their emotions. Not a single scratch lay under the bandage. Not a one. As Cassius gazed at it, not even his old wounds were to be found. He looked to Thedret once more.
"I thought you said your efforts were in vain." He half asked, half stated. He flexed his muscles. He felt no soreness, no feeling of any wounds. No mark was left upon him at all. He did seem rather pale, but other than that there was no telling of what had transpired before.
"They were sire. Until..." Thedret sighed. "Lathon, bring the mirror." He asked the other knight. Cassius was confused. The other knights seemed to retreat back more. Almost cautiously, Lathon handed Thedret the mirror before he joined his fellow knights away from their commander. Hesitantly, Thedret handed Cassius the mirror.
Cassius gazed into a reflection that was not his own. His face was pale as the moonlight, as gnarled and wrinkled as a ravine. Two scarlet orbs had replaced what used to be his brilliant blue eyes. His mouth dropped in horror to reveal not teeth, but fangs, glinting dully under the candlelight of the room. Cassius's eyes were wide in shock. He gripped the mirror even harder and it shattered under his grasp.
The Divine Crusader had become a vampire.
Four days ago the Commander had appeared in the priory's undercroft, transported there by the magic of the long-ago Sir Amiel's ring. The Commander had enchanted it himself to bring him back to the Priory whenever he was in need. The smith Sergius Turrianus, who occupied the basement for his work heard the crash and called for the other Knights to investigate. Lathon had been in the stables attending to the horses when he heard the smith's shout. The Nord brothers Sir Geimund and Sir Gukimir were the first on the scene, followed closely by Sir Thedret, the Commander's second-in-command. When Lathon reached the basement he saw the Commander being brought above from the undercroft, Sir Geimund holding his feet, Gukimir his legs.
The Commander's armor, the divine relics of Pelinal Whitestrake, were torn asunder. Blood seeped from the many wounds upon his body. A single broken arrow protuded from the Commander's shoulder. The Commander appeared delirious from pain, crying out incoherently about worms and filth. Sir Thedret emerged from the undercroft soon after the brothers carried the Commander past the former squire and requested that Lathon deliver Sir Areldur and Sir Avita to help the Commander. Lathon immediately rushed outside, calling for his fellow knights.
The former priests and healers did what they could for the Commander. Avita carefully removed the broken arrow, taking care not to leave any fragments inside of the Commander's body. They then immediately stripped him of the sacred armor, taking care with both their leader and the holy relics. He groaned in pain and moaned more ramblings, becoming less coherent. Both knights quickly tried to spread their magicka through the crusader's body but found their efforts stopped. They were dumbfounded and tried once more to no avail. Their commander continued to moan and rage about, thrashing slightly. He was mad with pain. It was a pitiful sight to see their leader so.
"Perhaps it's some kind of enchantment they cast upon him..." Areldur mused, trying to stay calm as his leader's wounds resisted their efforts.
"This is unlike anything I have ever seen." Avita spat, her face screwed up in frustration.
Areldur examined the torn crusader some more, wondering.
"His wounds are not fatal." He pointed out. While blood seeped from the many slashes and punctures in the Commander's body the blood appeared to be stemming, some beginning to heal over his already scarred body.
"No, they're not." Observed Thedret, coming into the room with the clinking of chainmail. He took off his helm at the sight of their leader, then looked at the holy armor laying in a neat pile upon the desk. He motioned toward them.
"We can do no more for the Commander." He told them. "Take the Crusader's Relics down to the undercroft and place them upon the stand. I have done so with the arms and shield." He informed them. When each looked at the other, Thedret spoke again.
"I would rather keep such holy artifacts intact than to leave them bloodied and battered as if they were mere tools." He said with an edge to his voice. "The Nine will find no offense in us handling the Relics as the Commander lies here." He said with conviction. The two knights nodded and began to collect the armor. Lathon appeared in the doorway behind Thedret. Making room for the young knight Thedret let him pass. The youthful Redguard strode past and clasped the commander's hand in both of us, looking as if he were about to weep. Thedret was shaking on the inside but he tried to remain stoic throughout. While the Commander was incapacitated, Thedret took up the mantle of leadership for the Knights. He could not lose it at a time like this, when they needed someone to be strong. Lathon, however, did not have that responsibility. Thedret could only watch as the former squire bowed his head to the Crusader and began to weep.
Deep underground in the confines of his tower, the King of Worms was pleased. Very pleased, in fact. He looked at the figure standing before him clad in leather armor as black as midnight, the shadows of the small cavern appearing to cling to her. The Dark Elf regarded him with cold eyes, protruding slightly from under the cowl she wore. Her ash skin complemented her armor perfectly, giving her the appearence of being in almost total darkness. The King of Worms stroked his staff affectionately in delight at the news she delivered.
"So it is as I requested?" He asked her rather excitedly. After months of planning, his plan was finally coming to fruition.
Tadave seemed to sigh impatiently. "Again, yes." she hissed. He seemed slightly annoyed with her attitude but he paid her no mind, he was too excited with the prospects of what was to come. Arrogant bastard, Tadave thought to herself.
"Excellent." He said. "Tell your master he has my gratitude for allowing me to use such a valuable servant." He told her.
The Dumner's eyes flashed coldly at that. "It is only by my master's will that I am here, nothing more." She told him, steel in her voice.
The King of Worms smirked now. "Regardless," He said silkily. "You have done well. Your master is lucky to have one such as you."
She said nothing, merely regarding him with a kind of cold indifference. She found him to be insufferable, but her master had ordered her to listen to his requests. At least, for now.
"Very well," He said suddenly. "I shall send word to your master regarding the next phase. Until now, I release you." He told the Dunmer. She smiled inwardly, finally glad to be rid of him. Outwardly she showed not a sign of emotion. Just her cold, slate eyes that always seemed rimmed with ice. She nodded and stepped back, turning to enter the portal that would have brought her back to the surface level.
"Oh, and one more thing?" The King of Worms called out to her. She turned slightly to look at him, her armor making not a sound in the cavern.
He smiled. "Go with Sithis." He told her with a smile. She almost snorted in disgust at his use of the Dread Father's name. He was lucky she didn't kill him right here and now, but her master needed him. They had some plot between them, though she knew not what it was. Instead of saying anything, she merely turned and stepped into the portal, the energies of magicka storming into her and teleporting her many levels to the above ground. As soon as she was away from that bastard she groped into her armor, finding the amulet there as it always was. She brought forth the magicka from her body and pushed it into the amulet, triggering its effect. Once more she felt a surge of energy throughout her body, feeling her body leave Mundus momentarily. Before she knew it she was in yet another cave, this one familiar. She stood in an antechamber of rough-hewn stone, her back to a small pool of water. Ahead of her was a tunnel that she swiftly walked toward.
It wasn't long before she found her master in the small complex. He was knelt at the shrine dedicated to the Dread Father Sithis in prayer. She stared at the shrine, the robed guise of Sithis himself beckoning as the stone figures of damned souls reached out toward him. Claws of bone protruded from the craggy walls, surrounding the Dark Father. She then turned her attention to her master kneeling, his head bowed in prayer whispering things Tadave could not hear. She stood back and held her silence, knowing that her master knew her to be there but paid her no heed. She bowed her head in silent reverence to the Dread Father, waiting for her master to complete his prayers. When he had finished, he did not acknowledge her. He merely walked past her. She gazed once more at the shrine before turning to follow her master. When they had left the shrine, he finally spoke to her.
"So I gather the King of Worms has returned you to me due to your outstanding service." He said in a voice as smooth as silk and as pleasant as a warm fire.
"Yes, master." She said. "He was most pleased with my performance." She told him, even though the opinion of the necromancer meant nothing to her.
"As am I." Her master stated. "Never once have you failed me, my Silencer." He said with a wry smile, turning to look at her as they walked.
Tadave's heart soared with the praise of the Listener. "My life for you." She said before she could stop herself. The Listener stopped in his tracks.
He turned to regard her fully. He drew back his hood in full, revealing his face fully. His face was as pale as the full moon, his eyes as red as blood, his fangs as sharp as razors.
"Do you mean to correct yourself?" He asked her, an edge in his voice. Tadave stiffened upon hearing that.
"My life for the Dread Father and our dear Night Mother." She stated with no emotion. Her eyes did not betray a hint of her mind. Years of training made sure of that.
"I'm glad you understand, my dear." He said, stroking Tadave's cheek with a gentle hand. She wanted to melt under his touch. Before she knew what was happening she felt her back slamming into the wall of rock behind her and felt the Listener's signature ebony blade pressing into her throat. She felt hopeless at it's touch. She could feel her life beginning to shrink away, she could almost feel her master slicing cleanly through her slender neck. Fear gripped her heart. But she felt no shame in dying. She had served the Night Mother and the Brotherhood well; surely Sithis would welcome her with open arms. But she felt the blade leave her throat and instead felt her master's lips upon hers. His kiss was deep, passionate, warming her entire body. She could feel her heart soar, her pulse race. She kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck and waist. He deepened his enthusiasm, growling as he did so. She could feel him bringing her closer to him. She felt him beginning to kiss her neck, his sharp fangs poking her jugular slightly. She grew excited. This was it, she thought. Her master would finally give her his dark gift, and they would be one. She could almost feel him biting...
Suddenly he pulled back and smiled at her. With another gentle kiss, he released her. She reluctantly let him go as well, crestfallen.
"Now is not the time my dear." He told her, resting his hand on her chin. She hated to hear those words. She looked at the Listener, her eyes now shining with something quite like fire in place of their usual ice.
"Then why do you do this to me?" She asked him. She regretted it immediately.
The gentle fingers holding her chin turned to a steel vice, his claws digging into her ashen flesh.
"Because I am the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, the voice of the Night Mother, the bridegroom of Sithis." He hissed at her. He brought the blade to her eyes, his eyes flashing with cruelty and gleeful malice. "You will do as I say or you shall suffer the consequences. Understood?" He asked her in a deadly whisper. Tadave imagined that if the Dread Father himself could speak, he would sound like her master. She nodded within his painful grip and he let her go. She dropped to her knees and began massaging the area his nails had penetrated her. Her hands came away with smears of blood upon her gray skin. When she looked up her master was stalking down the tunnel, his back to hers. As she stared at him, she whispered once more.
"My life for you."