Snippets of Destiny

By Leoni Venter

Based on Oblivion by Bethesda Softworks

Part 6: Taking leave

The cave mouth gaped ominously.

Martin tethered the pack horse and removed the bundles tied to the saddle. He stacked them just inside the cave, then, carrying only Lark's lute - retrieved with his other belongings from his rooms in town - entered hesitantly.

It had taken him a week to get back from Kvatch, finalize his dealings with his guild, send his regrets and apologies to the families of his slain friends, get Lark's things and make the trek to the cave.

He worried that Lark would not be there. There were so many things that could have befallen him. He could have been attacked again in the terrible cavern where Martin had left him. He could have been caught outside without shelter from the sun. He could by now have starved because Martin was certain that Lark would never hunt people to survive as a vampire.

So he entered the cave with trepidation. As he made his way inside he called down the dark corridor. "Lark? Are you here?"

He heard only the barest rustle as Lark practically materialized next to him. He swallowed a startled exclamation because the minstrel-turned-vampire had eyes only for the lute.

"Finally," Lark exclaimed, removing the lute from Martin's unresisting fingers. "Listen to this!" Without pause he started picking a tune. "Remember the stag? I was hiding in a hollow log the other morning and guess what I saw?" With that he started singing.

"When slanted rays of light
Adorn the wood in pools of gold
And the last vestiges of night
Disappear into morning cold

When the forest evergreen
Resounds with the daily song of praise
And flowers with a dewdrop sheen
Spread their petals in the haze

Then he comes slipping through the trees again
Ever aware of possible danger
Looks in the water and sees again
The face of that familiar stranger"

He finished with a flourish. "There, what do you think?"

Martin gaped at him in astonishment, finally finding his voice as Lark impatiently cleared his throat. "It's very beautiful, Lark. You were hiding in a log?"

Lark grimaced - a startling sight as his canines gleamed. "Where are my manners? Come inside, let's not talk in the corridor." He drew Martin into the furnished cave. "Sit down, will you? Yes, I was caught without shelter coming here. The log had an excellent view over a pond, though, and it did the job it was supposed to do. And I had a lot of time that day to compose the song." He stroked the lute lovingly. "I am glad you brought this to me. It's been hard without music."

Martin realized that Lark was feeling as awkward as he did, and was talking to keep them from staring at each other in silence. He decided gratefully to play along. "I brought the rest of your things, too," he said. "Your landlord sends his regards."

"His regards? What did you tell him?"

"Only that you had decided to stay on in Kvatch for a while," Martin said, feeling guilty about the lie. "I couldn't tell him about... you know..."

They stared at each other in silence.

At last Lark shrugged. "I suppose not. You didn't tell anyone the truth?"

Martin shook his head. "I told them about what had happened at the shrine, to the apprentices. I didn't talk about you."

"I see. And what did they say?"

"I've been expelled from the Mages Guild," Martin said.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright. If they hadn't done it, I would have left in any case." Martin sighed. "I've decided to do something worthwhile with my life."

"Really?" Lark said. "And what is that?"

"I'm joining the order of Akatosh in Kvatch," Martin said. "Perhaps by helping others I can atone for what I've done."

"You're leaving?" Lark could not keep the hurt from his voice.

Martin heard it. "I am so sorry, Lark. I'm abandoning you just when you need me most. If I could somehow cure you, you know I would. But I can't spend the rest of my life looking after you..." He heard how callous his words sounded but could not recall them to his mouth. "Oh, this is coming out all wrong," he groaned. "Forgive me."

Lark smiled a sharp-toothed smile. "No, you're right," he said. "I can't expect you to keep a pet vampire secretly in a cave. I have to adapt and live my... unlife... as best I can. But I did hope to at least see you now and again."

"Why?" Martin asked. "Why would you want to see me? You should hate me for what happened. I can barely stand myself as it is."

"I could never hate you," Lark said simply. "And I don't blame you, either. I went along of my own accord, and I was willing to face the risks. I'm sorry if I sound bitter, it's taking some getting used to, but it is not your fault."

Martin nodded dubiously. "If you say so. In any case, I will come to see you whenever I visit my parents. In the meantime, is there anything that you need? Something I could help you with?"

"I have two favours to ask," Lark said. "First, could you give this to Lucius at the Chorrol garrison?" He handed a cloth-wrapped parcel to Martin. "It contains letters to my family and so on. He'll make sure they get where they need to go."

"Of course," Martin said.

"Secondly," Lark said. "I need some cattle."

"What?" Martin was shocked. He knew that vampires kept people submissive with charm spells, to feed on, and that such people were called 'cattle'. He could not believe that Lark would even contemplate such a thing. "You can't mean..."

Lark laughed. "I meant the kind that goes 'moo', Martin. Two or three will do." At Martin's incredulous look he explained. "Any blood can keep me going. I've been catching deer to stay alive, but a cow or two won't even miss the blood, they're so large. And I won't have to range so far out to hunt."

"I understand," Martin said, relieved. "I'll see what I can do."

"Just tell your father," Lark suggested. "I'd prefer it that he knows the truth about... me."

"Alright," Martin said. "Anything else?"

"No, I think that's it," Lark said. "Just..."

"Yes?"

"Promise me that you won't dwell on this. If you find your place amongst the brothers of Akatosh, do that wholeheartedly. Don't let the past spoil your future."

"I will try," Martin said. "Farewell, Lark. Thanks for everything."

Lark smiled. "No need for thanks, my friend." He considered something for a moment. "I guess you should call me 'Nightingale' from now on - I won't be singing in the sun anymore."

Martin tried to laugh. "Then I'll listen for your song in the night." He embraced Lark. "Goodbye." Letting go, he whirled and strode from the cave into daylight, not heeding the tears that streamed down his face.

To be continued...

Disclaimer: All of Oblivion belongs to Bethesda Softworks. I'm just letting my mind wander through time and dark dungeons a bit...