Chapter Twenty One
Wayside Wayshrine
Lynette was walking down into the valley towards the rock where she found Folkvar. When she made it to the rock, she got down on her hands and knees and looked beneath it, only to find a wad of blankets. Curious, she reached inside and tugged on a corner of the cloth, pulling it back to reveal a newborn baby within. What on Nirn is a baby doing here, she wondered? She immediately scooted closer and extended her arms out to take the baby, but a tiny spider dropped down from the ceiling of the rock enclosure and bit her hand.
Lynette drew back in alarm, patting at her hand to get the spider off. She leaned close to the ground and peered inside at the flat ceiling above the baby, and to her horror, there were millions of little spiders crawling around all over and on top of each other directly above the infant's head. Quickly, Lynette snatched the baby up and pulled it to her breast, hugging it protectively while getting to her feet. All around her, the blades of grass had turned into fat, slimy slugs, and she bolted for the hill behind her where the land seemed to be safe.
The sky began to darken to a shade of red that reminded her of blood and death. The rolling clouds were black, and moved above her at an impossible speed. It frightened her. She couldn't bear to look up anymore, but didn't dare to look down at all the slugs she was stepping on, so she closed her eyes tight and ran blindly, taking quick peeks to make sure she wouldn't run into anything.
She felt something prick her arm, and when she opened an eye to glance down, she was no longer holding a baby, but a very large centipede. She screamed in terror and released the bundle, sidestepping to avoid it as it hit the ground, and continued running full speed up the hill. Halfway up, her feet met grass again, but she did not stop to look around until she reached the very top.
When she looked behind her, the entire valley was covered in slugs, spiders, and other insects she could not make out. They all seemed to be gathering in the center of the valley, crawling on top of each other into a big, bulbous form. The centipede she had dropped from her arms was growing as it crawled, doubling in size, then tripling, and continued even after it had reached the size of a human being. It made its way to the blob of slugs and spiders and crawled into the mass, popping its head out through the top and lengthening itself until it was almost vertical. More insects piled on, crawling up the centipede's body and forming another shape on its head.
The longer she watched, she more Lynette began to see a form to the madness. The mass of insects and spiders were shaping into legs; four at the bottom, with the centipede acting as a sort of curved spine, and two arms that extended far out past its body. It did not form a head. Instead, the space between the arms opened up to form a mouth, but the mouth did not move as it began to speak.
Unwilling one, it is time for you to feed...
Lynette gasped. It was the Lady of Decay; the daedric prince, Namira. She wanted to cry, for the fear in her heart was consuming her. She cupped her hands around the sides of her mouth and cried out, "What do you want with me?"
I want you to feed on the flesh of Arkay's own.
"I don't want this path! I refuse!"
You are much too late to turn back now, my champion...
Dark laughter began to fill Lynette's head. She stumbled backward, holding the flats of her palms to her ears, but the laughter continued on even louder. The back of her heel caught something on the ground, and she began to fall, throwing her arms out to catch herself.
Lynette awoke standing. Her surroundings were strange and unfamiliar. She appeared to be in a hall of sorts with pillars on either side that opened up the hallway further on. A shrine of Arkay was ahead of her on a stand surrounded by candles.
Lynette's mind was immediately in a panic. Where was she? How did she get here? She fell asleep in her bed on the floor, dreamed another terrible dream, and now she was in what appeared to be the Hall of the Dead. Did she walk in her sleep again? Her breathing was becoming rapid and short. What was going on?
"Hello?" came a voice from somewhere further in.
Lynette gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.
"Is someone there?" the voice asked. An elderly man in robes came into view from the left. The next thing Lynette knew, she was on the floor in a heap, crying, with the man rushing to her aid.
. . .
. . .
"Here you are." The old man – Andurs was his name – came from around the corner carrying a tea cup. Steam wisped over the top like a graceful dancer.
"Thank you," Lynette said, accepting the hot cup. She tugged the itchy wool blanket tighter around her body with her free hand. She was only in her night clothes. "I'm sorry for barging in at this hour."
"Stop apologizing, child," Andurs said with a chuckle. "You apologize far more than anyone else I've ever met." He gave a strained sigh as he eased himself onto the bench beside her, leaving more than enough room between them to be respectful. "You gave me quite a scare. Are you going to tell me what brought you here?"
Lynette looked down at the teacup, flecking the rim with a thumb. "I came here in my sleep."
"What would bring you to the hall of the dead in your sleep?"
She inhaled shakily and looked up. "Namira."
The older man did not move at the mention of the Daedric Prince's name, but his expression said it all. He became very serious as he asked, "Are you...?"
"No," Lynette said, shaking her head, "I serve the...Eight."
If he noticed her hesitation, he said nothing about it. Either way, Andurs appeared relieved to hear that she wasn't a Daedra worshipper.
"Tell me, child," he said. "What did you do to have Namira after you?"
And so Lynette relived the tale once again. When she finished, the priest stayed silent in contemplation. Lynette sipped on her tea, which was now a little cold, but still soothing.
"There may be something I can do," Andurs said, "but I need your help."
"Please, I'll do anything," Lynette said.
"I have lost something very precious to me. An Amulet of Arkay. I misplaced it in the catacombs. I'd look for it, but I've been hearing strange noises down there. I fear the dead have become...restless."
Lynette winced. I hope they're not zombies, she thought.
"Without the amulet, I am powerless to confront them," he went on. "I believe I can help you with your problem once I have that amulet." He gave her a sincere look. "I know it is a lot to ask, but you seem to have a way about you that says you can handle yourself. Would you be willing and able to search for it?"
"If it means I will be free of Namira, I'll do it."
"Oh, thank Arkay!"
Lynette offered a smile, but did not join in with the giving of thanks. She had a few things she had to do before she could do that. Dealing with zombies was never a joyous experience.
Once Lynette finished her tea, she left for the shop to prepare. The door was still unlocked from where she had walked out in her sleep. It was dawn, but still too early for Arcadia to be up just yet. Lynette donned her novice mage robes and grabbed a few minor healing potions. She would pay for them later, if she returned in one piece. After scribbling a quick note to Arcadia to let her know where she was, she headed out the door. Folkvar watched her leave with a pitiful whimper.
She returned to the Hall of the Dead, the entire time whispering positive affirmations to herself. Priest Andurs saw her off at the door to the catacombs, saying he would stay and make sure nothing foul escaped. Muttering a quick prayer to the Nine, she went through the door and Andurs shut and locked it behind her.
The area she stood in was dimly lit by candlelight. A shrine of Arkay set directly in front of her a ways. Lynette was terrified. She called a flame to her hands, took a deep breath, and started forward, reminding herself why she was doing this.
She was in luck, to say. It was not zombies that roamed the catacombs, but skeletons. A few steady streams of fire made sure that they would not rise again. The Amulet of Arkay was at the very end. She grabbed it and made her way back to the entrance. Andurs was waiting for her with relief etched into his features.
"You found it. Thank Arkay."
"There should be no more problems down there," Lynette said. "Their bones are still on the floor, though charred a bit. I hope the families of the remains won't be too cross about it." Lynette waited awkwardly for another opportunity to speak as the priest placed the amulet around his neck. "So... How is the amulet going to help me?"
"I will use it to purge Namira from your soul," Andurs said. "Come with me, please."
Lynette followed him to the shrine at the entrance of the hall.
"Put both of your hands on the shrine," he instructed, and Lynette obeyed. Andurs took the amulet around his neck and held it out toward her, and then he began to pray. Lynette figured it wouldn't hurt for her to do the same, so she closed her eyes and prayed to Arkay. A small sense of shame encompassed her, though, for the last time she had prayed to Arkay, her brother had fallen deathly ill. It had been some time since then.
Usually, upon praying at a shrine of the Nine Divines, one would receive a blessing. For Arkay, it was good health. Lynette received no such blessing. In fact, nothing happened.
Andurs did not seem to want to give up. He paused for a short moment and began another prayer. When that didn't work, he prayed to all of the Eight. It seemed nothing was helping Lynette.
Finally, the priest stopped. He frowned deeply. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do."
Lynette's heart sank, but she put on her best face and said, "It's alright. I understand. Thank you for trying to help me."
"There may be one more option."
Lynette's mask faded into desperation. "Please, tell me. I'll do anything."
"Have you heard of the wayshrines in Cyrodiil, child?"
"I have," she said. She and her brother used to play around the wayshrine of Akatosh near Bruma growing up.
"The only other thing I can think to do is for you to travel to one of the wayshrines of Arkay."
"That isn't a bad idea," Lynette said, hope returning to her voice.
"Will you be leaving soon?"
"If I can, I'd like to leave today," she said.
"Then take this," Andurs said, removing the amulet from his neck.
"Are you sure?"
The old man gave a nod and waited for her to take it before adding, "Safe travels. Come back with good news."
"I hope to."
. . .
. . .
Explaining the entirety of the situation to Arcadia was easier than Lynette thought it would be. After letting Folkvar out to do his business, she sat down at the table in the back with the older woman and told her everything. Lynette promised to return with Cyrodiilic herbs and ingredients for Arcadia's potion making, which the woman was utterly delighted to hear. Lynette was given two baskets full of semi fresh and dried ingredients to give to her mother, which Lynette knew her mother would be tickled to have.
Lynette packed a bag with her journal, clothing, a comb, and trail food. She wrote a quick letter to Farengar explaining where she'd be for the next few days and left it with Arcadia, who promised to have it delivered that day. She made sure Folkvar was fed, and that her waterskin was full. When she was finally ready, she took Folkvar and headed for the horse drawn cart near the stables outside of Whiterun.
The carriage driver was the same one Lynette had first met when she tried to go back to Cyrodiil. His eyes shined with recognition and he smiled.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Helgen." She already had the gold ready for him in her hand.
The driver looked at Folkvar, who seemed more interested in the horse, and said, "It'll be an extra ten for the dog."
Lynette added ten gold to the charge and handed it over. The driver gave her another smile and nodded to the wooden carriage. "Climb on back and we'll be off."
The journey to Helgen wasn't a long one. Folkvar, much to Lynette's relief, was fascinated by the cart and riding on it with that muscled beast pulling it forward. Lynette passed the time by replaying the kiss Farengar gave her over and over in her mind. It had been so raw and powerful. It spoke volumes of his neglect to his needs. Lynette wondered how long it had been since he'd laid with a woman. That was probably half of the problem concerning his aggression on the matter of them. Perhaps, Lynette thought, I should slow down? Not ask so much of him at once?
They got off the carriage in Helgen and hired a different one that would take them all the way through the Jerall Mountains and to Bruma by nightfall. If her parents weren't up by the time she arrived, she would take a room at the old inn where she used to work and see them in the morning. If anyone would know where a wayshrine of Arkay was, it was her father.
There were no bandits this time around, thank the Nine, but there were some brave and hungry wolves that watched and tailed the carriage for a ways. Lynette had to hold Folkvar back from getting out and attacking them. After a while, they gave up and turned around, but it still took a few minutes for Folkvar to calm down.
Lynette opted for a short nap while they covered the rocky trail through the mountains. She did not dream of Namira for a change. This dream was bittersweet.
She was in Dragonsreach, practicing a spell, when Farengar came in, all smiles, and embraced her in his long arms. It felt so real: the fabric of his robes, the smell of herbs and spices from the alchemy table mingling with his own personal musk; everything was perfect. And just as they were about to kiss, a particularly jolting pain jarred her awake. One of the wheels hit a dip and sent her to the floor of the carriage, face first. She got back into her seat after assuring the alarmed carriage driver that she was alright. She felt her forehead, just above her right brow. The area was very tender. There would most likely be a bump there soon. She used a bit of a healing spell to take the edge off the headache that was coming on and hoped it would help with the forming lump.
By the time they cleared the Jerall Mountains, the light was fast fading from the sky. They made it to Bruma by the time it was dark and only the light of the moons gave them an idea of the road. Lynette took her travel bag, the two baskets, and Folkvar, and headed to the gates of the city with a shaky sigh. When the guards greeted her without the accent of the north, she nearly dropped both baskets. Of course, many a Nord lived in Bruma, but their accents were no where near as strong as those from Skyrim.
She was home.
Lynette took a moment to admire the gray stone and log cabin wood structures that made up Bruma. Very sturdy. Very bland. It wasn't at all like Whiterun.
She took a hard left and came up to the door of her mother's shop. She knocked on the door and waited. Her mother answered, looking her up and down.
"Lynette? Lynette!" She gave Lynette a barrage of kisses and hugs. "Oh, Lynette! How are you, darling? You look so thin – here, come in and I'll take care of you. I was just about to lock up the shop."
"Before you do, Mother, here," Lynette said, holding up the baskets. Her mother took them with interest. As she did, she noticed Folkvar and recoiled. "What is...that?"
"This is Folkvar," Lynette said, reaching down to scratch is skull. "He's going to be my familiar one day."
"That's all well and good, darling, but he isn't allowed in the house when we get there."
"Mother!" Lynette cried. "He's a good boy. No accidents in the house, I swear it."
"Lynette, I said no." Her mother led the way inside the shop, but wasn't fast enough to close the door in time for Folkvar to come darting past. He sniffed the air, wagging his tail low, and looked up at Lynette with big puppy eyes.
"Oh, goodness," her mother muttered to herself, glaring at the dog. She laid the baskets on the counter and peeked inside. "Splendid!" she said, now forgetting about Folkvar. "These are wonderful specimens! Did you gather them yourself?"
"Not all of those," Lynette admitted. "They're from Arcadia. She was hoping for a trade."
"Ah, so you won't be staying long then?"
"I'm afraid not," Lynette said. "I'm here on business."
They spoke some more about Arcadia, about the different potion ingredients, and how different the Skyrim Nords were from the ones in Cyrodiil, all while Lynette's mother prepared to close the shop for the night. It used to be an inn a long time ago, but the inn moved to where the old Mage's Guild used to be, leaving the building up for grabs. Lynette's mother was lucky to get it when she did.
Once the store was closed and locked, they made their way to the house where Lynette and spent a fair amount of time growing up.
"So, your father and I want to know when to expect grandbabies."
Lynette stumbled in mid-step. "Mother."
"Your brother is expecting sometime around Morning Star next year."
"That's his decision," Lynette said.
"Lynette, I'm only saying think about it. I'm glad you are following your dreams, but there's more to life than just dreams."
"Don't worry about it, Mother."
They reached the door to the house, and just in time. Lynette was beginning to feel uncomfortable about her mother's rambling. The door opened before either of them could reach for it, and out came her father.
"Lynette?"
"Hello, Father," Lynette said with a smile.
"I was just about to walk your mother home from the shop," he said as he gave her a welcoming embrace.
Lynette sat with her parents for dinner that night. She caught them up on most of the happenings in her life, leaving out the dangers, Farengar, and her strife with Namira. The latter would come later, once her mother went to bed.
Lucky for Folkvar, Lynette's father talked her mother into letting him stay inside. "Fine, but if he goes in this house, you will be the one to clean it up!" her mother had said with a clipped tone.
Lynette's parents caught her up on all the things she had missed since she'd left. Her brother was having his first baby with his childhood sweetheart, Ahzia. The Stouts were still quarreling with the Goldhearts. It had only been a month, but so much had happened while she was away. Lynette almost missed living the normal shopkeeper's daughter life in Bruma. But being a mage meant so much more.
Then again, she wasn't sure if that's what she was chasing anymore.
After dinner, they all had wine by the fire. Her parents sat in their usual spots in the chairs on either side of the fireplace, facing it, and Lynette sat before her mother with her back turned to her so she could braid her hair for her, as she'd always done when Lynette was but a girl. Eventually, her mother grew too tired to stay up any longer and left for bed, leaving Lynette to finally ask the very question she'd been holding in all night.
"Father, do you know where I could find a wayshrine of Arkay?"
Her father sipped his wine, thinking. "There's one south of Skingrad, if I'm not mistaken." He paused, waiting for her to explain why she needed to know, and when she didn't say, he asked, "Why?"
"It's a long story. I've told it so many times that I don't care to tell it again for a while."
"I understand," he said. "Would you need any gold to get there? I can at least help with that."
"No, but thank you."
"Lynette." Her father grew very serious. "Are you in danger?"
"No, father," she said, shaking her head. She hated to lie to him like that, and she knew he could tell it was a lie, but she only wanted for him not to worry about her. "It's a pilgrimage. A personal one."
"Will you be going back to Skyrim once you've done what you've set out to do?"
"Yes. I want to become a mage. I want to study at the college."
"Good girl," he said with a smile. "You make me proud. Have you learned anything new?"
"Oh, lots of things. I'll show you."
The rest of the night, Lynette showed her father the new array of spells she could cast. He was quite impressed with her control of the spells, and she said that she had no one to thank but her teacher. When her father asked about Farengar, Lynette left out her feelings. Neither he nor her mother needed to know about her confusing almost-love life.
That night, Lynette dreamed of Namira, but this time was different. It was in short snippets, as though the amulet was blocking part of Namira's ability to haunt her. Lynette's sleep was poor at best, but at least she slept.
When morning came, she dressed in a plain dress her mother gave to her, and she and Folkvar set out on a wagon headed for Skingrad. The driver and the bodyguard that rode along were both heavily armed, and Lynette found out later through casual conversation that bandits had been bad around the roads lately. They eventually picked up another traveler along the way, also headed for Skingrad. He had a small, wooden lute, and played and sang for them until his fingers ached and his throat was parched.
They arrived in Skingrad in the evening. Lynette booked a night at the inn and immediately set off to find the wayshrine. It was risky for a young woman to be out so late by herself, but she feared the dreams. Lynette would risk it.
She left the gates of the city behind and viewed her surroundings. There were stables and a vineyard further down on her left. A woman was walking around in the fields of grapes, inspecting them.
"Excuse me, miss!" Lynette called out to her. She hurried her steps to the edge of the field as the woman looked up with a questioning smile.
"May I help you?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," Lynette began, "but might you know the way to the wayshrine of Arkay? I was told it was around here nearby."
"Actually, it's just up there," she said, turning and pointing beyond the fields. "Just up that hill a ways."
"Thank you."
"Wait," the woman started, looking at the sky and back to Lynette with concern. "You aren't going at this time of night, are you? Best to wait 'til morning."
"No worries," Lynette assured her. "I will be fine."
"They say a dangerous man wanders around these parts at night," the woman warned. "We've had three deaths just this past month."
The hairs on the back of Lynette's neck stood at attention. Damn it all, she thought. It's never easy...
"I would wait 'til morning, when it's light. Or at least take someone with you. That mutt doesn't look as though he could hold his own in a fight."
"You'd be surprised," Lynette said with a laugh. She wanted to cut this short. Every minute of light was precious if what this woman was saying was true. "Thank you for the warning. I am afraid I must go, but I will take heed of what you said."
"Alright," the woman said with a shrug, turning her head. "May the Eight be with you."
"And you," Lynette said. She walked forward and around the fields and headed toward the hills the woman had pointed out, Folkvar on her heels.
They walked uphill a ways before coming to the wayshrine. The sun was already set by this time, and what little light was left was fading fast.
"Folkvar, stay by me," Lynette said, then knelt before the wayshrine and began to pray. There was no light flash or wave of energy over her when she finished. Nothing but the sound of Namira screaming as the Daedric Prince's presence left Lynette's soul once and for all. Lynette smiled, relieved, and turned.
"Let's go, Folkvar..." her voice trailed off. The dog was on his side, fast asleep.
Lynette was grabbed from behind before she could comprehend what was happening. Fear kicked in, and right behind it, anger. She used it to fuel two beautiful flames and grabbed at the arm holding her midsection and the hand on her head that was trying to pry her neck to the side. Her assailant cried out – a man's voice. He let go of her for a second, long enough for Lynette to turn around and face him, but he was still quicker. He grabbed her wrists and held them up and away, then tripped her with a swing of his leg.
Down Lynette went, and her attacker went with her. They rolled to the edge of the hill and stopped, both struggling for dominance, but the man ended up on top of her and pinned her wrists above her. She couldn't bend her hands to aim at him with the way he was holding her. She was stuck.
The man froze for a moment. Then he said her name.
"Lynette?"
Lynette recognized his voice and looked closely at his shadowed features in the darkness of the early night sky. "Ralius?"
"Lynette! Oh, my – sorry," he stammered, clamoring to his feet. He held out a hand to help her up.
Lynette, stunned, accepted the help. "What happened? Why did you attack me?" She recoiled form his hand once she was up. His touch was deathly cold.
"I am truly sorry. I...well, I didn't know it was you to be honest."
"I hope you don't make it a habit to attack young women in the dark..."
He put a hand to the back of his unruly head of hair and laughed nervously. There was something off about him, something off about the entire encounter. The woman at the vineyard flashed through Lynette's mind.
"They say a dangerous man wanders these parts at night. We've had three deaths just this last month."
Ralius' demeanor changed. He put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat, and smiled. "It has been quite some time. How have you been?"
"Alright...and yourself?"
"Good." Silence, then, "H-How's your mother and father?"
"They're fine." Lynette glanced back at the wayshrine where Folkvar still slept and gave Ralius and apologetic frown. "Would you excuse me for just a moment?"
"Of course," he said.
Lynette walked briskly over to Folkvar and knelt before him. She shook him and said his name, but the pup was fast asleep, as though under a spell. Lynette heard Ralius come up behind her and turned to make sure he wasn't planning another attack. He put his hands up in a sign of submission and put them back down again as he spoke.
"Is that your dog?"
"Yes." She looked back down at Folkvar. "He was fine one moment, then he was just...asleep."
Ralius snapped his fingers, and Folkvar flinched, then slowly rose to all fours. He took two sniffs of the air and began to growl. His dark eyes were locked on Ralius.
Lynette looked up at him, very aware of her surroundings, as well as of Ralius' close proximity. She backed away and said, "You are not Ralius."
"I am," he said, "just not the one you used to know."
Folkvar continued to growl, but did not budge from his position.
"You did that to Folkvar. Made him sleep."
"I did."
"What are you?"
Ralius looked down, sighed, then glanced up, looking through parted strands of his hair. "A lot has happened since the last time we met. I moved to Skingrad with my aunt a few months ago. Was a hired hand for a while, then got into adventuring and mercenary work."
"And then?"
"And then I contracted porphyric hemophilia."
Lynette gasped. "Ralius, I..." Her hands curled together in front of her. "I'm so sorry."
"No need to be," he said. "I am rather enjoying the vampire life."
"That is no life," Lynette said. "You aren't living."
"You know what I mean." Ralius rolled his head around on his neck. Lynette heard several loud pops. "I like my life now. Something was missing before, always was. I thought it was you. But I was wrong." He tilted his head back to look a the stars. "I have everything I need."
Folkvar's growls became throaty barks: a warning. Lynette leaned down to hold him back as well as attempt to calm him. "Folkvar, it's okay. Folkvar!"
"Do you want me to make him sleep again?" Ralius asked over the barking.
"No," Lynette said sharply. She pulled him back a few paces as best as she could and stroked his back and neck, all the while talking sweetly to him. This seemed to help, as his barking died down and he only growled now.
"Folkvar," Ralius said, taking one step back for good measure. "Sounds like a Nord name."
"Well, he is a Skyrim hound," Lynette said, scratching behind Folkvar's ears. "I wanted him to have a worthy name."
"He looks a tad mangy."
"He's been through a lot," Lynette replied. She stood straight, confident Folkvar would not attack now, and moved a lock of stray hair behind her ear. "Are you going to explain why you tried to attack me?"
Ralius shrugged. "I thought you were someone else. I apologize."
"You go around attacking random people like that?"
Ralius fell quiet for a moment, then said, "I truly am sorry. I didn't know it was you."
"What would you have done if it had not have been me?" Lynette would not drop it. She had to hear it straight from him.
"Then I would have drank her dry and left her to rot," he said quietly.
"You are the reason behind the deaths," Lynette whispered, mostly to herself. Her eyes hardened as she looked back up at her old childhood friend. "Why?"
"I get hungry," he said. "The blood takes over me. You don't understand what it is like."
"Ralius, you took the lives of three women," Lynette said. "Does that mean nothing to you?"
"Not anymore," he said. "When I first took a life, it was an accident. I didn't mean to. I still see her face when I close my eyes." He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "Now I see it. I see the necessity of it. For me to live, I must kill. I've not been wasteful. I drink every drop before discarding them. I still respect them for giving me life."
"It's wrong," Lynette said, her voice shaking. Ralius, the boy who always wanted to take her on adventures; the boy who loved her, now a vampire.
"To you, yes. But for me, it is necessary."
What was Lynette supposed to do from here? Report him? Kill him? She couldn't bring herself to do either. This was Ralius. She knew him and had spent years growing up with him. What would Farengar do?
"Who?"
"Who what?" Lynette asked.
"You said a name. Farengar, I believe."
"I said nothing," Lynette said, the hairs on her arms rising.
"Oh."
"You read my mind. How?"
"An accident," Ralius said. "Sometimes, I can't control it. It just happens."
"Well, please try to stay out of my head."
"Alright." Ralius switched weight to his other foot. "Who is Farengar?"
Lynette felt more than a little uncomfortable. "My teacher."
"Ah, right. That explains those flames you burned me with."
"I've learned much from him," Lynette said. "I couldn't even touch my magicka until I met him."
"Sounds like quite a mage."
"Wizard," Lynette corrected him. "He's a wizard."
"Powerful?"
"Very." Lynette patted Folkvar, who had calmed his growls down quite a bit. "He taught me all I know. I'm still nowhere ready for the college yet."
"I remember when we were younger, how you used to pretend to cast fireballs and bolts of ice and lightning." Ralius smiled in the dark, but it was still visible in the light of the rising moons. "Remember that?"
"Yes." Lynette wanted to laugh at the memory, but she was on guard. He was Ralius, but not the one she knew.
"So." Ralius shifted his weight again and gave her a sideways glance. "Do you have feelings for him?"
"Ralius," Lynette said sternly.
"It was only a question."
"Why are you asking? What business is it of yours?"
"Curiosity."
Lynette looked away at the city of Skingrad far below, then back at Ralius. "It doesn't concern you."
"Ah, so you do."
"Ralius."
"I am only saying." The two fell quiet, then he asked, "Does this wizard feel the same?"
Lynette sighed. "No."
"Why's that?"
"Because... He is a wizard. He has duties to his Jarl."
"Sounds like excuses."
"Yes, well... There's nothing I can do about that." Lynette cleared her throat. "Listen, I'd love to talk about old times and what we've missed out on since we parted ways, but I need to go."
"Leaving so soon?"
"It has been nice seeing you again, despite the circumstances, but I really must be going." She looked back at Folkvar, who fell to his side, suddenly asleep, and then she snapped her head back up in time to see Ralius charging for her, a snarl on his face. He tackled her, sending her to the ground on her back, hard. He was on top before she knew it, wrestling with her arms.
"Ralius, stop!" she cried out, terror thick in her tone.
"You are going nowhere," he growled.
"Ralius!"
"You know too much."
His teeth met the flesh of her neck. Lynette screamed and thrashed, trying to wiggle free. She got a hand loose and charged it with ice, then dug her nails into the back of his neck and let him have it. When he pulled away with a cry, she charged a flame in her other hand and blasted him in the face.
The vampire who was once Ralius rolled backward and off of her in a tangle of legs and arms, screaming. Lynette kept the flame up, even as she got to her feet, then lit up both hands and concentrated the flame. It roared from her hands, eating away clothing and flesh. Ralius somehow was able to stand and tried to run, but the flame assault brought him back down. Finally, the screams died in his throat, and his squirming ceased. Lynette didn't stop until her magicka pool was drained.
She put a hand to her neck, which was bleeding freely. Her vision began to swim. She wobbled to the wayshrine and touched it, letting Arkay's blessing cleanse her of the vampire disease. She then immediately began to heal the wound on her neck. Slowly, the bleeding stopped, and the wound closed beneath her fingers.
Lynette hadn't lost too much blood, but enough to weaken and daze her. She slid down the side of one of the wayshrine's columns as Folkvar began to stir, then put her head into her bloody hands and began to cry.