Chapter Twenty
Saber found his appetite soured beneath the combined scrutiny of what he had always considered his friends. Eiryn, sitting to his right, continued with her nervous glances, only to look away whenever he looked back. Despite his reassurances he was in no way a danger to her, something had changed between them. A rift had grown from the time apart. Whatever trust he'd lost would take time to render whole again. Saber wasn't sure he wanted to wait that long.
Caius, weathered in his age and Skooma addiction, clearly watched with suspicion, the gray eyes squinting at his every move. Merthisan, who had been mentor and friend, hid his guard behind forced friendliness. The shifted eye and odd quirk of his mouth belied a nervousness Saber recognized over the years of knowing him.
As they ate dinner in silence, the Dunmer was stuck at the elderly men. Caius hadn't aged well, looking more frail than fit. Years of his Skooma addiction had taken its toll. Eyes faded from steel blue to pale gray. Lines etched the years to the broad face and defined chin. Although remaining stout, Caius might still yet draw a sword. How he'd managed against Daedra was another story.
Merthisan fared slightly better. The beard and brow matched the silver long hair, braided in the Nord style. Two tiny braids lined the beard, cascading down the front of his shirt. Creases that lined his face showed how often the man smiled. He kept his form trim though a bit tarnished by the years. Saber found his own eternal existence like a lead weight.
The tension felt heavy in the silence. Clearly they shared Eiryn's concern. Greetings to the lost Nerevarine were similar to Eiryn's; guarded and surprised. Comments on his appearance further rifted him from the group. Where once he'd feel welcomed, now he was an outsider to them.
Unable to eat, Saber found the rich port more to his liking. Twirling the glass in the candlelight of the dining hall, he admired the deep red color, so much like blood. Albeit a bit too sweet, the warmth in his belly helped relax the tension for him. "
Eiryn tells me Ald Ruhn is no more." He said, hoping to ease their worries.
Merthisan nodded with a mouthful of steak, swallowing quickly to respond. "Burned to the ground."
"And House Redoran?"
Eiryn made pathways through gravy and potatoes on her plate. "Only a shell of what they once were. The council was all but killed off."
Saber remembered Nekros mentioning having killed Dilvene of Redoran. He had wanted that bitch for himself-
"The temple took Lord Vivec somewhere safe." Merthisan explained, "The main power lies now is Televani. I think the people of Vvardenfell now look to wizards to save them."
The Nerevarine nodded, pondering on this power shift. Vivec had lost his immortality. He had once been one of the three gods of the Tribunal. How galling to have had such power only to be a mere mortal now. Saber was struck at the thought how vulnerable Vivec would be now.
Caius tapped fingers. "You made no mention of what happened to Nekros."
This caused Saber to snap to attention. They knew of the vampire being in Cyrodil? Well, he supposed Eiryn told them just about everything. "He will not be a problem."
"You killed him?" Eiryn's tone hinted at regret if he had made that decision. "He went to go find you. Eldwin was the only one who knew where to look."
Eldwin? Saber scowled. She doesn't call him Nekros? Things had changed more than I thought. "He lives, but if we ever part ways again, I will remedy that."
"Why let him live?" The retired spymaster held the opinion that killing Nekros was for the best.
Saber set his glass down. "He saved my life at the shrine. Seems a bit ungrateful of me to kill him." Even as he spoke, the Nerevarine wondered to his true reasoning. Part of him felt killing him might end the bond, but also take away the deadly edge he gained from this connection to his former master. What if killing him also killed myself?
Caius grunted, not willing to pursue the subject further. They had argued in the past on this subject, and although Caius obviously would rather the vampire be destroyed, he couldn't deny the threat to Saber as well.
"So what do you think the emperor will find in that book of his?" Merthisan prudently changed the subject.
"With any hope, he'll find a way to light the Dragonfires and end this crisis." Eiryn replied.
As the conversation turned towards speculation, the Dunmer fell quiet with his own thoughts. They drifted to the Daedra who offered him a position among them, to one of power. For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of fantasy, wondering what it would be like to claim such high title. To rule all of Nirn...
And it would be so easy, he thought. Remove Martin, end any chance of sealing the gates from the Oblivion hordes, and he gained the entire world if he wanted. The thought was dizzying. There had been a time he refused titles and power, but now- he glanced at the strangers around him- things were different.
"You were originally from Skingrad." Ferise wasn't looking at him when she spoke. She didn't have to. The words were stated, leaving no doubt that what she said was fact. As she gazed up at the high walls of the city, she used a flattened hand to block the sun from her eyes. Loose hair fell across her cheek, which she brushed aside.
Eldwin sorted through memory of what he shared with her, not remembering having told her any such thing. "Why do you say that?" He asked her.
She turned, motioning towards the stables to take care of their horses. "You're familiar with the roads." A slender shoulder shrugged casually. "Your manner changed once we passed the vineyards. I'm guessing all of this, of course."
"How very astute of you." He told her, leading his mount to the corral. The plodding hooves reminded him they best have their mounts stabled and shod before taking to the road once more. "My family owned a vineyard outside the city."
Ferise didn't respond with words. He liked that about her. The woman used silence to communicate with subtle expression instead. Brows arched, making it obvious she wanted to know more. Eldwin had no intention of sharing that much of his past. Astute or not, however observant the woman was, he had no intention of sharing that much of his past with her.
"They died."
If she wanted a long, drawn out story, she was sadly mistaken.
"Your whole family?"
Eldwin busied himself with the horse, pretending to not hear her. He hoped she'd take the silence as his wanting to not speak of it.
"Did they make wine?"
"That is what a vineyard would produce." He replied without looking at her.
"Surillie? Tamika?" She named two of the well known vintages of the area, named after the families that produced them. Dead family, however, do not produce wine. After their passing, the neighboring families took over the fields, or what was left of them.
"No."
"I'm sorry. Forgive me." Her tone softened. "You don't wish to speak of your family."
No, he didn't. Memories roused against his will, memories he had hoped to strangle into nothing.
His parents had originally been merchants, buying a vineyard outside of Skingrad to make a name for themselves. Two brothers and three sisters shared the numerous chores such a business demanded. Eldwin had been the youngest and even then, small for his age. His parents left no doubt he was a disappointment to the family name. He wasn't entirely sure when that happened, or why, only that his father took any mistake serious enough to beat him into submission.
He remembered wanting his mother to defend him, but her manner of silence and sad woeful eyes told him he'd receive no rescue. Siblings were only glad they were not at the focus of their sire's temper, and so life went on.
Eldwin learned to avoid family whenever possible, busying himself with chores, and losing himself in the city whenever he could. Reading became a favorite past time, and a developing interest in joining the mages' guild also pulled him away from home. When his father found out, he was furious.
That night, Eldwin felt the first stirring of real fear from his sire. The man nearly beat him senseless. He managed to run into the vineyards, hiding in the dark. Knowing discovery meant another beating, or worse, he found desperate situations called for desperate actions. He fed his rage then, letting anger rouse and spill over like a storm to hide his pain. During the dark of night, he broke barrels of vintage out of spite, and set the house on fire.
To this day Eldwin wasn't sure if he meant the entire family, as well as servants, for them to die in the flames, but no one survived. Many believed that even he had been consumed. Unable to provoke grief for those who died, the boy simply felt numb and alone. He wandered near the city, too unsure of what the citizens of Skingrad would say about a young boy surviving his family's tragic end.
One night, beneath the gentle light of a full moon, he met a mysterious and alluring gentlemen name Vicente. The man had gentile and unassuming manners. Recognizing Eldwin as a street waif, the Imperial bought him a grand meal, and spoke without judgment or ridicule. He knew what Eldwin had done, and admired the skill and determination a boy of his age had. After some promises and his ever so subtle method of sections, Vicente introduced him onto the path of the assassin.
The Dark Brotherhood became the family he never truly had, of members who cared what became of him, encouraged him, and helped him in time of need. So overwhelmed by the show of emotion, he willingly accepted Vicente's offer to be embraced. Life was never the same after that.
Elwin found the vampire's embrace to be the first time he felt any physical comfort. His tendency towards brutality was a boon, not a curse. In fact, his brothers and sisters within the guild encouraged the streak of cruelty, honed his skills, and he moved up through the ranks with unheard of speed.
All of which ended when he was to slaughter them through a cleansing ritual demanded by the Night Mother. Elwin, now known only as Nekros, took the assignment as a test of resolve. Surely the Night Mother knew what was best.
One by one the guild members died. Nekros gave them quick deaths, often giving them a gift of dying unaware. Most never knew until too late they were dead. Vicente, however, proved too difficult to kill. To the surprise of Nekros who so readily embraced obedience and the code of the Dark Brotherhood, he found the death of his sire, the only true father he ever known, was too unbearable.
Instead of killing him, Nekros simply left for the Imperial City. Then he became legend.
"So where do we find this cure?" Ferise asked him, pulling him away from his reverie.
He swallowed against a swell of emotion, glad she changed the subject to the present. "I need rest." A headache throbbed in tempo with his heart, a side effect he found from using too much magic. "And you need food." He gave her an once-over, judging her armor and travel worn garb. "And we'll need supplies and to get new clothes."
She looked down at herself, frowning. "I have clothes."
"Better clothes." He corrected.
The brows tightened further. "These are perfectly fine." A short fingernail traced a light tear. "I can repair them."
Sighing in exasperation, Eldwin shook his head. "If you see the count of Skingrad, or any noble, you need better than leather and homespun."
"We're here to see the count?"
"Yes, and we'll need something more... refined." His mind flashed an image of her swathed in velvet and silk. The image he found warmed him, lightening his mood considerably. Even with a gown, he felt the dust of the road would mar whatever improvements made. "Perhaps a bath would also be in order.."
Ferise opened her mouth then shut it. "Fine. But I'm not wearing a dress."
Ah well, Eldwin smiled inwardly, that at least is something.
The hour grew late with candles burned to stubble and the flames dancing wildly in an attempt to stay lit. Most were near puddles of wax, and would need to be replaced. That chore would wait until morning, Eiryn decided. She gathered her robe around herself, sitting closer to the open hearth in the main hall.
Saber approached, handing her a goblet of wine discovered in the kitchens left unattended. "A fine vintage. I think you will appreciate the sweet taste…" He murmured, pausing to trace a finger along her cheek. "I've missed you."
Eiryn forced a smile, unsure if she should tell him of her condition. Would he assume the child wasn't his? In light of his earlier show of temper, she decided to wait.
"Something troubles you?" He asked, taking a seat across from her. The warm glow of the fire shimmered off the steel gray of her Dunmer heritage. He donned an informal wool tunic with matching breeches, wearing soft soled boots of deerskin. She found she was still shocked at seeing him without the long hair.
"I don't think I can get used to the short hair." This wasn't entirely a lie. The style angled his features sharply.
Rubbing the fuzz along his scalp, the elf shrugged. "It will grow back."
"Yes, you're right." Eiryn agreed, rolling the goblet between palms.
"You haven't touched your wine."
She looked up sharply, catching him staring at her untouched cup.
"It's not poisoned." He added, taking a sip from his own.
Why would he think I would think that? Aghast, she took a sip, only for him. The taste was sweeter than wines from Morrowind. Better than her favored drink of Cowberry wine, she decided.
"Are you still frightened of me?" Saber asked her.
By the tone, Eiryn guessed he felt frustrated after assuring her he would never harm her. His voice hinted an adversarial tone, one she hated to see once again. "I'm only concerned with the Oblivion crisis." She lied, feeling she had no other choice. "If what the emperor says is true, then we're facing the end of everything we know."
"Or a new beginning." The Dunmer spoke with a twist to his lips, hinting at a smile.
"What? What do you mean a new beginning?"
Saber waved dismissively. "Never mind. Martin will save the day." He told her, "He is from a long line of kings. A Dragonblood, surely that should count for something, right?"
Before Eiryn could ask what he meant, a soft voice alerted them of Martin's presence. "It's good to hear your confidence in me." He said with a gentle smile. The emperor still wore the frayed robe he wore earlier, having been reading non-stop all this time. "And I think I have found a way to end this crisis."
He had their full attention now. Choose the last chair nearest to the fire; he drew in a long breath before continuing. Whatever news he had did not fare well for them.
"It is clear to me that the only way to stop the Oblivion invasion is to relight the Dragonfires." His eyes seem to fade, staring into embers. Eiryn could see his throat work when he swallowed. "Emperor…Amulet…and Dragonfire…with these divine gifts, the Daedra of Oblivion have been kept at bay for thousands of years. When the Dragonfires burned, the divine barriers kept the Daedra from making more than fleeting visits to our world." Hands clasped before him as if in prayer. "But the Dragonfires can only be relit by an heir of the Septim blood wielding the Amulet of Kings. This was the essence of Mankar Camoran's plot. He was undone only by the merest…chance," He glanced at Saber, giving a meaningful nod of thanks to the hero of Kvatch. "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 Dagon's invasion."
"How?" Eiryn asked; glad to hear of even a spark of hope amid this crisis.
Martin dipped his chin in thought before answering, as if reluctant to tell her. "I've made some progress on the Mysterium Xarxes. I think I've identified the section that deals with opening a portal to Camaron's Paradise."
"Camaron's Paradise?" Eiryn frowned. "What's that?"
"Where Camaron escaped to." Saber told her. "I saw a portal open in the Mythic Shrine. It looked similar to the gates…"
"Yes," Martin nodded, "and can be opened from the outside. However, it will be more difficult, as I will have to bind myself to the book. And…"
"What?" Eiryn prompted him to continue.
"The Xarxes mentioned four items needed for the ritual. So far, I've deciphered one of them; the blood of a Daedra Lord."
"Oh… is that all?" Saber gave a light snort of disgust. "And where exactly are we to find blood of a Daedra Lord?"
The emperor leaned back in the oversized chair. His lips formed a grim line. "Such artifacts are known to be formed from the essence of a Daedric Lord from where they derive their great power. Not an easy thing to come by, obviously, but we will need a Daedric artifact. Bring it to me when you have acquired one."
Saber gulped the remainder of his wine, tired and angry. "Any suggestions on where to look?"
"Saber…" Eiryn chastised him, stunned he would take such a tone with the one man who could close the gates. He shot her a heated glare.
Martin ignored it. "The only way to find one is through the cults surrounding the Daedra Lords. The book, Modern Heretics, is the best introduction to Daedric cults. The library here has a copy of it."
"Excellent," The Nerevarine spoke with his tone bordering sarcasm. "I'll get right to it."
The emperor smiled, the cynicism either ignored or unnoticed. "I cannot express sufficiently my personal gratitude to your efforts to help me, to help all of Tamriel." He told him, then added, "To you as well, Eiryn. Your loyalty is an example to us all."
Eiryn noticed Saber's simmering temper beneath a hot gaze. "Yes, her loyalty is without question."
Bristling from his tone, she met his glare directly, adding. "I would hope that loyalty is well earned."
By his ease of posture, he took her words seriously and opted to take his leave. "I have an early ride tomorrow." He told them, "To find this artifact."
Martin straightened. "You have an artifact in mind?"
Saber gave a bow, "There is a Daedric Lord I am on a first name basis with." When the emperor's brows shot up in surprise, the Nerevarine told him, "Lord Azura."
Note: Forgive the length of time it took me to publish this chapter. The National Novel Writing Contest took a lot out of me. I don't think I'll be doing that again, but the experience was worth it. 50,000 words in thirty days taught me that I can be a prolific writer if I set my mind to it. Perhaps now I can focus on other writing, and get this fanfic finished in a timely manner. ;-)