Chapter Seven
Lucidius felt empty. Four people had lost their lives as a result of his choices, one of whom was his oldest friend and companion. Now that Jo'Rakha was dead, every reason he had for coming to this gods-forsaken place no longer held any merit. Even now that they had reached the end of their journey, all that the old legionnaire felt was pain and sadness. He could only hope that the treasure, whatever it may be, would be worth the cost.
When the elevator finally came to a stop, Lucidius leaned on a lever set into the wall that opened the gate to the outside. A blistering cold wind swept into the confines of the structure, carrying small particles of snow along with it. Within seconds, Lucidius was freezing as the chill seemed to set itself into his very bones.
He stepped out of the elevator and glanced at the sky. It was overcast, and snow was falling steadily, building up into deep drifts on the mountaintop. It appeared to be late afternoon. They had spent almost twelve hours in the depths of the dwarven ruin and Blackreach. A small path, barely discernible in the falling snow, led from the dwarven structure that housed the elevator up towards the mountain's summit.
Lucidius sighed and started forward, trusting the others to fall into step behind him. He trudged through the snow up the winding path, struggling to follow it up. At times it seemed to completely disappear and he was forced to guess which route to take. As long as he kept moving up, he figured he was going the right way.
The path finally led to a narrow passage between some large boulders that opened up into a natural bowl at the summit, with one end opening to a cliff revealing the land laid out before it. The depression was dominated by a massive carved wall that seemed to have some sort of script inscribed into the inner surface of its curve. Lucidius trembled at the thought that the wall might be the artifact that had been rumored of. After all, with the return of the dragons a few months ago, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the Empire of the person calling themselves 'Dragonborn' and their ability to absorb some sort of power from the ancient ruins of Skyrim.
Lucidius was so caught up in his thoughts as he approached the wall that he didn't notice the sarcophagus placed nearby, or that the lid was trembling. He simply marched up to the wall and sank to his knees in front of it.
"Is this what I killed my closest friend for?" he asked aloud, not expecting a response. It felt as though the gods were playing some cruel joke on him.
"Uh, Lucidius, I think we have a problem," Arbell announced, coming up behind him and dragging him to his feet.
Lucidius slowly turned to look at what had frightened the Breton. The lid of the sarcophagus had completely fallen free and a skeletal form was rising from its depths. It was clad in a flowing red robe and held a staff stylized much like Arbell's: its head curving in the shape of a dragon's neck and head. As it descended from the sarcophagus, Lucidius noticed that it wasn't actually stepping on the ground, but rather was floating a few inches above it. He lifted his gaze to peer into its face, and was met by the grim visage of a steel mask that glowed with a dull red light.
"By the Eight! What is that thing!" Lucidius exclaimed, "Ladia, what do you know of this?" When he didn't receive a response, he cast about, searching for the vampire. Surely the weather would keep of the worst of the sun and allow her to fight, but she was nowhere in sight. She had abandoned them.
"I am Vodahmin, the Unremembered, the forgotten Priest of the Dragon Cult!" the form announced, its voice ringing with such power that Lucidius found himself kneeling down to escape its wrath, "And you are trespassing in my place of rest! This transgression shall not go unpunished!"
The form lifted its staff and thrust it towards Arbell. A bolt of lightning shot forth from the dragon's maw adorning its tip and lanced towards the Breton. She attempted to erect a magical barrier to block the attack, but was a split second too late as the bolt struck her in the chest and she crumbled to the ground with a shriek of agony.
Lucidius forced himself to his feet and drew his sword. He had faced many terrifying foes and unnatural obstacle during his career in the Legion. A single Lich didn't frighten him. He started advancing, holding his shield before him, prepared for any attack.
"You think to face me? You will learn why I was cast away here and forgotten! Your ashes shall join all the others that believed themselves my equal, and all memories of you shell be cast aside and forgotten!" Vodahmin shouted and attacked once more with its staff.
Lucidius caught the blow on his shield, but the jolt sent a lance of pain down his arm and through his body that dropped him to his knees and left him writhing in agony. "I do not fear death," He hissed through gritted teeth as he once again forced himself to his feet, "And the life of my friend shall not be for nothing!"
He started forward once again until he was within attacking range. Gritting hit teeth against the pain of the lightning bolt, he struck out, bringing his short Legion blade up in a stabbing motion that would have left most enemies skewered on its sharpened length, but this was not most enemies. The blade passed cleanly through the creature's robe, but did not do any noticeable damage to the Lich itself.
Instead of a shriek of pain, Vodahmin started to laugh. "Foolish mortal, to think that a Dragon Priest could be so easily slain! I shall show you the error of your ways! Zun Haal Viik!" it Shouted.
Lucidius felt his weapon and shield get torn from his hand, as if an enemy infinitely stronger than himself had ripped them from his grasp. There was nothing he could do to maintain his hold on the weapons. He scrambled after his blade, but was too slow and watched in horror as it clattered down the mountainside. Vodahmin was laughing from where it stood. "Now you have seen only a fraction of the power I wield!" It gestured in the air as it advanced on Lucidius and a sword came into being in its hand. The handle was black as pitch, but the blade gleamed white, even in the dim light of the overcast day. It didn't appear to be made of metal, but rather of bone. Lucidius feared that it had been forged of dragonbone.
Just as the Lich lunged to plunge its blade into his chest, a spike of ice imbedded itself in its chest and it let out a shriek of pain. "I am not dead yet!" Arbell shouted shakily, kneeling in the know, her staff stretched out towards the Priest. The chainmail covering chest was blackened and smoking, and she was hunched over, the hand not supporting the staff clutching at her side.
Lucidius turned his gaze from the Dragon Priest to watch the necromancer as she shakily hauled herself to her feet, using her staff as a support. When she had finally regained her footing, she drew her blade and stood in a combat stance. Lucidius could tell by watching her that she was not expecting to survive the encounter. She wasn't standing in any sort of form that would allow for defense or agility. Her only purpose was to kill.
The Lich turned on Arbell and drifted towards her, lifting its staff and sending a barrage of lightning bolts at her. This time, she managed to erect a ward in time and deflected the bolts of energy. She fired back with several ice spikes, each one finding their mark and imbedding themselves in the Lich's form.
Lucidius started towards the Lich's back, but without a weapon, he was less than useless. When he was within a few yards of it, he noticed Arbell looking towards him as she fended of its attacks. Seeing that he was close, she launched a furious assault, shooting spikes of ice with her staff and swinging wildly with her blade, attempting to buy herself some space. Her attempt succeeded, but at a cost. She drove the Lich back a few paces, but took a wicked slash to her arm in the process. Her staff dropped to the ground as she grunted in pain, blood flowing from the open wound. In a last desperate maneuver, she threw her blade at the Lich, but missed.
It laughed at her attempt as it brought its sword to bear and moved in for the kill. However, the throw had not been intended to kill. The blade had landed just a few feet from where Lucidius stood. He lifted the weapon and charged. When he reached his target he thrust the weapon into the creatures back, aiming for where the heart would be on a live person. The Lich shuddered violently as the blade slid home, releasing a violent scream as it twisted around, forgetting the Breton as it attempted to swing at him.
Lucidius clung to his blade, praying that it would be enough to kill the creature. To his horror, the Lich dropped its staff and managed to grasp him by his armor. It lifted him free from his back and flung him to the ground, twenty feet away, then advanced on him, blade held threateningly before it. "You think to defeat me so easily! You are both beaten, your attempts have failed. Accept your demise!" It shouted, thrusting forward with its blade.
Lucidius desperately brought his arm up to protect himself. He managed to just barely deflect the blade from impaling him, instead sending it grinding over his bracer and into the snow by his head. He reached out with his other arm and gripped the Lich's wrist. The bony limb seemed extremely frail in his grasp, as he easily wrapped his hand around the naked bone. He twisted, praying that it was just as frail as it appeared. To his surprise, the bones snapped and the hand fell free, releasing the dragonbone sword. The Lich screamed in pain and lunged with its other arm, trying to grasp the Legionnaire by the throat.
Lucidius rolled to the side, knocking the blade away from the reaching hand as he did, and came up in a crouch. The dragonbone sword lay just a few feet away, white blade glinting with an inner light in the snow. The Lich saw where he was looking and moved to block him. Lucidius ignored the movement and dive for the sword.
He landed atop it, then rolled, bringing the blade up between himself and the Lich and thrust forward. Vodahmin impaled itself on the blade's length and writhed in agony as its bones began to disintegrate. Lucidius dragged himself to his feet by the swords hilt, then shoved it even farther into the Lich's chest. Vodahmin jerked violently as the blade consumed its life force.
The robe burst into flame, the heat only speeding the destruction of its bones. Before long, all that was left of the Lich was a pile of ash with the steel mask lying in its center.
Lucidius was breathing heavily as he knelt down by the pile of ash and lifted out the mask. It was heavy, far heavier than something that size ought to be. It was still glowing with a faint red light. It seemed that this mask was what the legends had been speaking of, but the truth of what it was, and what it had been guarded by, had been lost to the flow of time.
He levered himself back to his feet, then walked over to where Arbell was lying. The young woman was unconscious, and Lucidius could easily see why. Her armor was coated in blood from the vicious wound left by the Lich's sword. Lucidius quickly pulled a healing draught from his pack and forced it down the Bretons lips, forcing her to swallow. The wound began to heal itself before his eyes, the flesh knitting together as the power of the potion flowed through her. He then pulled out a bandage and bound it over the remaining cut of the wound.
Slowly, Arbell began to come around as the potion did its work. "What… what happened?" she asked shakily, her words slurred.
"We were attacked by an ancient Lich, a Dragon Priest," Lucidius explained, "but it's dead now. We managed to kill it, if only barely."
"I remember," Arbell answered, some of the color returning to her face, "Did you find what we came her for?"
"I think so." Lucidius pulled out the mask he had taken, "I think something like this could easily pass into legends as an artifact of great power. My only question is whether or not it was worth it. My best friend is dead." He walked away from Arbell towards the cliff edge.
He heard Arbell force herself to her feet and join him. "I think he would be happy to see you succeed. All you can do know is live hoping that it was good enough for him."
Lucidius looked down at the mask in his hands. It was beautiful, there could be no doubt about that, but it didn't seem like his friend's life was worth the cost. "I suppose it will have to do," he whispered to no one in particular, "I hope you can forgive me for my inability to listen to your counsel, my old friend."
The End
{Well, this is it, the end of Lucidius' adventure. Thank you to everyone that took the time to read this and leave some feedback! I learned a few things from everything left for me, and enjoyed putting this story together. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cheers!}
