Saber stood with an intense anger simmering beneath a veneer of neutrality. He had ridden his horse hard the last mile, uphill the entire length of road to reach the gates of the temple. He sought to find Eiryn, almost desperate to find that safety in her presence to feel whole again. How often had he referred to the woman as his soul, his conscience? The woman was his balance, the one thing in his life that felt right.
The dark shadow of his own soul, malignant and crouched, threatened to snuffed out the former hero had become. Eiryn was one of the few people that could abate his mood. A gentle word, or her sharp reprieve held enough sway against his temper to set him back to right. Now, he finds her standing, her hand touching another, their bodies inches apart. The contact was barely that, but jealously was sudden and intense. It was all he could do to uphold a level of stoicism he didn't feel.
He barely paid attention to the emperor's greeting or the welcome of his return. Instead, all attention was on the woman who remained near the wall. She looked radiant with waist long hair fluttering in the gusty winds, cheeks made ruddy by the cold. Startling green eyes stared back, lips parted slightly in surprise. The gaze held him in a tight grip, and he wasn't sure he liked what he found there.
Fear? Distrust? Perhaps she hadn't recognized him? A brief wave of self disgust passed over him like heat, causing his gaze to drop. He tried to imagine what he appeared to her.
In the past, he always took care with his appearance, recognizing the importance of clothes amid nobility and how people treated you. Now he was unwashed and dusty from the road. Saber hoped she'd look beyond his haggard appearance, with his hair still too short, too close against the skull, the growth still fuzzy and hardly enough to keep him warm. The motley mix of armor was unusual for him, as was bearing a sword worn at the hip instead of harnessed to his back. He hadn't found a smith to provide him a shoulder harness yet, or repair his armor.
He wasn't even sure what he had expected from her. No, that was no true. In the past, her greetings had always been exuberant, often running into arms without a care, holding him fiercely as if to say she'd never let him go. That is exactly what he expected, what he craved upon seeing her.
This time she stood and simply stared.
Something pinched in his gut, squirming in the darkness lodged there.
Martin, meanwhile, only hesitated at this behavior, misinterpreting the emotion behind it. "I can see you have bad news. You didn't recover the amulet, did you?"
Saber forced himself to focus on the Imperial, struck by how human Martin was, how similar in color and even height compared to Eiryn. He wondered how she perceived this lost heir. Handsome? Powerful? How close had they become in his absence? The rage simmered beneath a calm yet chilled exterior.
"But I did find the Mysterium Xarxes." Oddly his voice was gruff with unspoken emotion, the tone too similar to that of his former master. He handed his pack over.
"By the Nine!" Martin recoiled, tossing the bag to the floor as if burned, The show of temper startled everyone. "Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!"
The Dunmer glowered this time, insulted and angered by the outburst. The inner turmoil swelled, threatening to emerge in a dangerous display. If not were for the Blademaster, Jauffre, and Eiryn standing there, he may have taken drastic retribution for the slight. Every ounce of willpower maintained control.
The emperor, unaware of the internal battle, lifted hands in appeasement, calming himself quickly. "Forgive me. You were right to bring it. I know some ways of protecting myself from its evil power." He smiled in apology.
Saber watched him carefully. "Can the Xarxes lead us to Camoran?"
Eying the backpack, Martin frowned. "I don't know. Maybe. I suspect the secret to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise lies within the pages." He bent over, picked up the bag to pull its contents out. The unobtrusive book was of pale leather, too pale to be that from an animal. A large Daedric glyph of an unknown metal rested amid droplets of blood. The book carried a foreboding presence, as if the object took on a cloud of maliciousness.
Martin grimaced. "I suspect the secret of how to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise lies within these pages. But I will need time. Tampering with dark secrets, even just reading them, can be very dangerous. I'll have to proceed carefully." He looked up to those who watched his reaction. "This evil book was written by Mehrunes Dagon himself, and given by him to Mankar Camoran. It is now clear to me that the only way to stop the Oblivion invasion is to relight the Dragonfires."
"How, my lord?" Jauffre asked.
The emperor drew in a resigned breath. "Emperor...Amulet...and Dragonfire. With these Divine gifts the Daedra of Oblivion have been kept at bay for thousands of years. While the Dragonfires burned, the divine barriers kept the Daedra from making more than fleeting visits to out world." His hand strayed to the blood red amulet around his neck. "But the Dragonfires can only be relit by an heir of the Septim blood, wielding the Amulet of Kings. This was the essence of Camoran's plot. He was undone by the merest chance but his complete victory remains perilously close. We must recover the Amulet of Kings and relight the Dragonfires before it is too late to stem the Dagon's invasion."
He turned to Saber, self controlled now and too quiet. "I hope to have the Mysterium Xarxes translated within a few days. I would imagine you need rest, and food." He turned with a smile to Eiryn, unaware of the red-hot glare of the Dark Elf beside him. "I'm sure you have much to catch up on with your companion. Return to me in a few days time and we will discuss what must be done next."
Saber said nothing, only giving a stiff bow before turning to leave the great hall. He gave a curt nod to Eiryn in a silent, unspoken gesture to join him. She nodded, giving a bow to the emperor before following out of the hall.
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Eiryn dogged his steps, finding his long, deliberate strides were meant to force her to quicken her pace. Saber was a head taller than she, leaving the top of her head to touch his chin if they stood side by side. But now he remained three lengths ahead left her to follow, leaving uncertainty in his wake.
Guilt felt thick in her throat, preventing her from making excuses as to why she behaved the way she did. Upon first seeing Saber, she hadn't recognized him. When realization finally did come, all she could do is stare. Something she never thought was possible when seeing Saber also came into light.
Eiryn was frightened.
He had changed dramatically. He'd lost muscle and bulk in their time apart. Such things had to be expected being he'd been in prison, she reasoned but the startling appearance of him left her doubtful. His long hair that once fallen past shoulders was gone. Black hair spiked with new growth, giving him a dangerous look. Clothes and armor were unkempt, while before he prided himself on having elegance amid nobles. But even this she could easily dismiss out of hand. No, there was something more prevalent in his change, something more sinister now.
Seeing him stand there, before the emperor, Eiryn could only stare unblinking at the elf she'd come to love. Eyes were shadowed and guarded. The angular face was chiseled like ebony, tension lining an expression devoid of emotion. The curved mouth, so often tugging into a play smile now set in a grim line. The gaze seemed empty, somehow vacant of the normally easy going Dunmer she'd come to love. The dark fog he carried seemed now a shroud.
In that moment of acknowledging that fear, Eiryn also knew that he knew her thoughts as well. This only served to frighten her more.
Saber's temper, however, was her main concern. Since Nekros' attempt at changing him, the Nerevarine had been known to have a rage, even extending to brutality on occasion but only directed to bandits or those who attacked first. Now, she wasn't so sure what to expect. How much had he changed-?
With determined steps, he led them through the doors leading to dining area. A few more steps led down to the only door, which he opened to allow them entrance. The smithy below was modest in size, providing just enough room to sharpen blades, repair weapons, and store some armor. This was one of the few rooms that gave privacy, with only a single Blade testing a long sword on a dummy.
"Get out." Saber warned him, undoing his sword belt.
The man turned, insulted by the gruff order but recognized who was speaking. Clearly the man considered refusing. Something in the tone or direct, warning glare bade him take leave before someone got hurt.
As the door shut behind him, Eiryn felt it pertinent to take the first move. "Saber-" She began. Her voice stopped when he turned sharply to direct his attention entirely on her. Her throat closed up in fear. He's never looked at me that way. "Wha..what's wrong?"
The head tilted slightly. "What's wrong?" Deft fingers undid the buckle at his shoulder, sliding off the cauldron. "Wrong? No welcome for me? No kind words? Perhaps you were too distracted by your precious emperor."
"Distracted?" Eiryn couldn't believe he'd be jealous. Not after all they've been through, after all she'd done to come to Cyrodil to find him! "I was..shocked! I wasn't sure if you were dead or alive. And you're...so different. What did you expect?"
Saber yanked the cuirass off, throwing to the ground as he moved closer. The movement was abrupt, catching her off guard and forcing her to take a step back from his advance. She stopped when she felt the wall behind, pinned by his angry stare. He stood inches from her, seething. The sanguine gaze flickered across her face, and something passed over his mood. A myriad storm clouded across his face, the tension like glass. Something however moved him, calmed him. Thoughts unknown to her softened the features into something of regret.
She felt his breath on her cheeks, watched the inner turmoil settle like the swell of the sea after a storm. His hand slowly reached up to touch her chin, fingers running delicately along her jawline.
"I had hoped to see a welcome." Saber told her. Pain was evident, despite or because of his former rage.
Realizing her body trembled, Eiryn fought back tears. Her voice barely whispered his name before she wrapped arms around his waist to hold him tight. In response, the Nerevarine melted against her, returning the embrace. She buried her face, unable to staunch the flow of tears this time.
"You are frightened of me." His voice rumbled against her cheek as she pressed against him. The words stated this as fact, as if reading her thoughts. When she didn't answer, fingers trailed through her hair as a motion to comfort. His voice grew tight. "That's alright. I'm frightened of me too."
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Eldwin had grown powerful in magick since his changing to vampire, but one skill he never managed was reading minds. In truth, he'd never discover a spell that allow one to peer into another's thoughts. Such power would give him an unsportsmanlike advantage. He wished he had such magic now, lost in the silence between himself and the Dunmer woman.
Ferise sat cross legged on a bed roll. They discovered the cave just as a storm broke over the sky. Once cleared of the goblins within, they settled next to a firepit to rest before taking to the road once more. Eldwin had told his story, finding the words refused to quell once started. He hadn't expected to tell her everything. As a vampire, as an assassin, he assumed this was simply his nature of secrecy, but a sudden need to tell someone his story forced the tale out of him. Once started, he simply found it impossible to stop.
Eldwin told her he was the Butcher of Cyrodil, a master assassin presumed dead, and the reasons that came into being. He told her Saber's attempt to kill him, and his years of seeking revenge. As the words wove out the sorted tale, he expected revulsion or fear, but instead found the woman listening intently, prompting him to continue whenever he paused.
Ferise' appearance was so similar to that of Saber's, and yet she held no anger towards him. Sometimes he forgot he was speaking to a woman he just met, and found the tone too often shifted to one of regret. Perhaps in some way he felt he apologized to his former apprentice for all the wrongs he committed. Unable to sort of the mess of unaccustomed emotion, he simply let the story tell itself.
Clearly she pondered his words, sorting out truth to possible lies. He couldn't blame her confusion. It was a story of legend. He brushed lightly on Saber's childhood, not wishing her judgment on his cruelty. In truth, at the time he wanted Saber toughened to face the hardships of life, much as he had taught as a boy. Eldwin hoped Saber would rise to the occasion and become an assassin as he did. To be good at that, one needed a cold edge, much like a hidden dagger. Razor sharp and thirsty for blood. Ironic how ugly this appeared on Saber now.
"So, he's not a vampire." Her soft tone still managed a light echo in the cave. Attention settled on the embers of the fire. Fire glow illuminated the lovely skin, unmarred by scar or anger. "And you think this bond you've mentioned has something to do with his change in personality."
"Indubitably." Eldwin responded. The young elf woman didn't seem to judge too harshly. In fact, she seemed impressively calm in light of what he'd told her. Leaning against a rock behind him, he wondered why he cared for her opinion.
"And you hope to change this."
The vampire nodded. "This is the reason for my traveling to Skingrad. Rumor has it I can find a cure there."
"How can you be sure it will work?"
Her question was the same he asked of himself. He could become human, only to find Saber still dark and sinister. Would the sacrifice then be worth it? He wasn't quite sure the answer to that, but felt he could still look for a cure. He could change his mind later. "I don't know if it will work."
Ferise chewed her lip in thought. "This bond...will switch both of you back to what you were?"
Eldwin drew in a breath, having not considered this much. Knowing now the emotion behind relationship, knowing conscience and seeing the results of having one... he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to such soulless life. "Yes, I would imagine so."
The woman added another branch to the fire. For a long time she fussed with blowing at coals, and setting wood to bring the flame to brighten the dark cave. Eldwin could only watch, wondering in the thick unspoken silence between them what her thoughts might be.
"I should help you then." She finally said.
"Oh? And what makes you think you need my help?" He countered, stunned she was even offering.
A light shrug of shoulders, she smiled. "You don't need any help?"
"I never had before." Eldwin felt prompted to discourage her, but something inside him craved her company. "This quest is not without some danger. Have you not listened to my story?"
Her hand waved in a dismissive gesture. "Yes, butcher of Cyrodil, master assassin, blood drinking vampire. I got that."
"So why offer to help me?" Why was she not afraid?
"Some might say I am young and foolhardy. Perhaps that is true. I am young, but I had to grow up very fast. I am also astute, and the past few years have taught me to judge men. I have faced danger and looked into the eyes of men I killed." Her hands spread fingers, palm up. "My hands are not without their own share of blood. I did not take enjoyment in those deaths. They are dead just the same. And if you say is true, that the Nerevarine will save us all from the Oblivion gates, then I think I should help you in your quest."
"And why are you not afraid of me?"
Lips curled at his question, holding back some amusement. "Because if your story is true, then your conscience will prevent you from harming me."
"You presume much."
"Perhaps," Her mouth widened into a smile. "Besides, I'm not sure if I'm ready to end my quest, and your path is likely the more exciting path."
Eldwin nodded idly, taking his turn at poking at coals. It was something to busy hands, to refocus his attention. ""You're either very foolish or very brave."
He hadn't meant to be funny, but her laughter came abruptly. The noise was infectious, causing his own expression to lighten. The woman grinned. "I suppose I could be a bit of both."
She was at that, he mused, and he guessed so much more.
Note: Forgive the short chapter. For some reason, writing this has been slow and arduous. I've also signed up for the NaNoWriMo Contest starting in November, so getting more chapters out will prove even more challenging. You can visit my personal site (see link at my profile) for updates.