Ch 33 Confrontation
Saber turned to find Nekros not far from him. He must've used magick, kept himself hidden under a Chameleon spell, Saber thought, letting the casket's lid fall back to close. He measured the creature before him, curious as to why Nekros didn't bear a weapon, nor did he seem tense or anticipating a fight.
Nekros stood next to one of the pillars, leaning with arms crossed and a casual tilt to his head. Wearing an elegant doublet that matched the belt and boots, the vampire also had the Manos sword at the ready, sheathed at his hip. He did not attempt, however, to withdraw it.
Combed back from his face, his shoulder length hair was otherwise unbound. The lengths framed his square face, the strong jaw, and the wide set eyes. The thin lips curled into a smug grin.
"Even if I had been asleep," The vampire explained, nodding his head to indicate Saber's hands, where blood had dried on his knuckles. "I could smell Valos' blood on you from the other room. I suppose you've killed him?" Nekros seemed undisturbed with the likelihood his mage were now gone.
I'll have to remember how sensitive their smell is the next time I deal with these leeches, Saber noted. He shifted slowly into the center of the room in case Nekros attacked. "Your clan..?"
Nekros splayed hands out before him. "They served their purpose." He told him simply. "You should thank me. They would've caught the scent of blood as well."
"You killed your own clan?"
"Is that so hard to believe? Am I not the very essence of evil to you?" Nekros laughed this time. "I've always been a loner, Feryl. Besides, they were, how you say, inadequate as vampires went."
The Dunmer grimaced in disgust. "You killed them after they played out their usefulness? What would've happened if I changed-"
Nekros watched him carefully. "You and I would return to the Imperial City."
"Alone?"
"Of course alone." He moved slowly, not turning his back on his former apprentice. "Their lives were useless, as was Valos and his men."
"You came all the way to Morrowind just to find me and force me to be embraced?" Saber found this hard to believe. Then again, he'd assumed Nekros had wanted revenge by his death. What better revenge than to have him as a thrall for eternity..?
"Now you can understand my frustration that you haven't changed." The vampire said with wry smile. "And why I don't understand how you cannot appreciate all that I've done."
The Dark Elf scowled darkly as he lifted his sword. "Shall I show you how much I appreciate what you've done for me?" He offered.
The vampire laughed at this, surprised at his former apprentice. "Are you certain you wish to engage me, Feryl?" He lowered his raspy voice in warning, the smile fading quickly. "Is this where you think we fight and good triumph over evil, because I assure you that your dear master Kendari has filled your head with fairy tales."
"You know why I'm here." Saber told him.
The vampire shrugged, unimpressed. "To destroy me I assume." He sighed. "Though I am rather surprised you'd seek me out when you could make your escape." He paused, lifting his ragged voice in pitch that mocked at his former apprentice. "Ah, but then you'd never know would you? You'd never know when I might strike again."
"It ends here. One way or another." Saber told him firmly, swinging the sword in a flourish. Only then did he realize he was giving Nekros a chance to arm himself. Why haven't I rushed him? He had the advantage, hadn't he?
The vampire's vision narrowed, and the gaze dropped. The man was so damned confident! He moved slowly, shifting his stance towards a desk beside him, placing long fingers upon a familiar book that lay open. "But I would think it has just begun…"
The binding and recognizable writing made his breath catch. My journal! He knows everything! Saber scowled, suddenly very self-conscious with the notes he'd written about this prophecy and his reason for coming to Morrowind. The last passages were all about Lord Nerevar, the history of the Tribunal, and his being named Nerevarine. "That doesn't concern you." The thief spat, growing angry.
Nekros' eyes flashed, the smile widening. "The reborn Dunmer hero, eh?" He said, and Saber tried to find the mockery in his voice. "Sent to the land of the Dark Elves to fulfill an ancient prophecy? I'm impressed."
Rage flared, "I never said I was the Nerevarine." He growled, gripping the hilt of his sword.
"You didn't have to." Came the reply. "I always knew you were something special."
"I've come to kill you Nekros, not debate with you." Saber said, taking a step forward.
The vampire lifted brows and held back another laugh. Nekros moved away from the table, finally drawing out his blade. "I suppose you need this then, this final fight? Will my death bring you some peace to your conscious?" He swung his longer sword in a graceful arching flourish. "And will your death bring peace to mine?"
Saber didn't pay attention to the words. All he saw was the creature had a blade in his hand. Now he was armed, Saber advanced. Snarling with growing anger, he rushed the vampire with dizzying speed. They had never crossed blades, not even in practice. Nekros taught stealth, not fighting. He showed the young Dunmer how to slip a blade into a neck, or the swift death by a thrown dagger. Saber had learned swordplay from Merthisan, not his old master.
He'd assumed the vampire had little in the way of skills, never remembering having seen the master assassin ever battle save for once with Merthisan. Even then, Nekros had retreated, willingly by his own admission. Saber had assumed then that his master simply hadn't the skills as the Merthisan had. Now he found he was wrong. Seriously wrong. Nekros had skill with the sword in his hand. He didn't have the grace or style that Saber had, but being a vampire, his endurance, agility, and strength far outmatched his prior apprentice.
What was worse, Saber knew Nekros was toying with him.
Anger boiled as he slashed viciously, following through with stroke after stroke of brutal blows. Nekros didn't even break a sweat. He parried instinctively, catching the whirling blade as if expecting each attack. For each block, however, Saber didn't find he maneuvered a counter-attack. He was simply preventing the blade from finding its mark.
"Fight me, damn you!" Saber growled, switching to more ruthless street fighting tactics. Lashing a fist, he struck Nekros in the face that caught him off guard. "I'm not here to dance."
"No," Nekros backed up to touch his cheek where he'd been struck. Rising anger soon matched Saber's as eyes gleamed anew. "I believe you came here to die."
With renewed vigor, Saber felt his teeth nearly shatter from the strikes Nekros began to throw at him. It was all he could do to keep up the defense, and to deter the slashing steel from causing him injury. Even with that, he felt a nip and then bite of the sword finding breaks in his defense. His arms and chest began to drip blood.
"You don't honestly think you can win...?" Nekros' voice was like a wild animal's with the ragged voice speaking harshly. The pupils of his eyes grew wide in reaction to the scent of blood.
The vampire's attacks were now more forceful, more savage as the speed never wavered. Each blow hit hard against Saber's, and he felt each strike like an anvil. Panting for breath, he felt sweat threaten to blind him. He'd forgotten the strength Nekros had, made worse by his being undead. Vampires didn't grow weary, nor did they require to catch their breath. He knew, as well as Nekros knew, he was losing-
"Come now, Feryl." Nekros taunted him. "You can do better than that. Hadn't your Master Kendari taught you better? I would've thought you would be a master of the blade by now."
Saber tried to ignore the leaden weight on his arms, almost desperate now to fend off the blur of steel. He tried to find an opening, but found none. Sword fights were never long for they were tiring…for mortals. Each thrust or swing was becoming slower as Saber shifted, barely missing a wide sweep of Nekros' longer blade.
Nekros drew back, letting Saber a brief respite. "If you intend on fighting Dagoth Ur, you best improve your short blade skills boy." He then eased his stance, widening arms to let down his guard. "Let's finish this farce, shall we? Go ahead. Let's see if you have it in you to kill me after all."
Saber hesitated, unsure. Nekros widened arms, as if ready to welcome him in an embrace. He knew he'd not have another chance and lunged. The short blade thrust, but the vampire smiled. "Stop." The voice, jagged and broken now held an odd tone.
Suddenly, the Dunmer found himself rooted to the spot with arm extended the sword blade only inches from Nekros' stomach. Locked in a powerful magick, Saber realized too late Nekros' intention when he'd arrived. All this time he could've stopped the fight. No wonder Nekros had no fear or concern! He'd learned spells and magick that Saber was finding difficult to break. He might have thrown a dispel, or was using an enchanted item.
Dread and growing terror threatened to engulf the imprisoned thief. He cursed his stupidity, closed his eyes as he heard Nekros approach from the side. He fought against limbs refusing to work, as panic began to rise. A low menacing chuckle sounded in his ears. Trying to move, speak, or do anything was futile.
"You see Feryl?" He said in a low voice next to his ear. "You can't fight destiny. Some things are fate. Some people don't have choices."
What in all Oblivion was he talking about?
"Kneel." Nekros growled.
Saber felt his body weaken as he fought against the spell. He slumped to his knees, the steel of his sword clattered on the stone flooring. He tried to resist, tried to fight the strong compulsion of Nekros' command to no avail. Damn him! Bastard is enjoying himself too much.
His body twitched as he continually battled wills with the vampire, only to find Nekros kicking the sword away that was only inches from his fingers. Time seemed to slow then as Saber could only helplessly watch his old master stand before him as victor. This is it. He's going to kill me.
"You insult me." Nekros murmured softly. He touched his left hand along the smooth metal of the blade, admiring the graceful beauty of its construction before touching the tip of the sword to Saber's chin. The yellow eyes gleamed in triumph. "Did you honestly think that I could be so easily defeated? Then again, you were always such a stubborn boy."
Saber remained frozen, waiting for the cold steel to pierce his throat. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, and his panting for breath was the only sound in the room.
"After all I've done for you..." Nekros said, pressing the tip of the blade to his chin. "After all I've offered, you'd still try to kill me…"
Saber stared at his hands, seeing fingers twitch. The spell of command was fading, but that hardly mattered being Saber had a sword at his throat. He could close his eyes now, his head bending slightly to accept his end. My only regret…was not telling Eiryn how much I loved her…
"Just do it." Saber muttered, finally finding his voice. "Finish it."
Moments passed agonizingly slow as Nekros remained before him, pressing the sword's tip until blood was drawn. "You should remember that I'm in your blood now." The vampire told him, touching the sword tip to where he'd been bitten to the side of his neck. The cold steel threatened to cut deeper if he dared to move. "As you are in mine, regardless if you were embraced or not. I think there is profound meaning in all that."
Nekros stepped back. "Seems a shame really." He finally said, with an odd unreadable expression on his face. "To destroy Morrowind's only hope."
The words sunk in slowly, and just as Saber realized Nekros had no intention of killing him, he looked up to see the vampire lift brows. "What?"
"But I can't have you hounding me for vengeance, now can I?" Nekros lifted his free hand, and a ball of light began to swirl from the palm, forming a cloud.
He's going to kill me with magic? Saber blinked, feeling stupid as the world around him suddenly went dark. There was no pain, and he had no memory of even hitting the floor.
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Nekros stared at his former apprentice for several long moments, being sure the sleep spell had taken full effect. He crouched beside him, rolling him onto his back to touch a finger to the small pinprick of blood at his chin.
"A shame…" He smiled inwardly, wiping the blood to taste. "to destroy a work of art."
And that is exactly what he'd considered Saber; his creation. Perhaps not entirely his of course, being that Master Kendari has done a marvelous job of raising him, but the Dark Elf had grown into so much more than anticipated. He wasn't the cold-blooded killer Nekros had planned, but it would seem the boy had a larger destiny to fulfill.
Nekros was intrigued upon finding the journal. For his own time in Morrowind, the vampire had also found his dreams plagued by promises of Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House. He knew that dark times were ahead. With the Dunmer's passion against 'outlanders', how far would Dagoth's reach be once he had full power? The Emperor's health was declining, the heir to the throne would wreak havoc in Cyrodil. More than likely, the neighboring lands might take advantage and go to war, if a civil war didn't ravage the Empire first.
The threat of Dagoth Ur seemed definite in a course for trouble.
Saber was very well Morrowind's only hope…