Sorry it's been awhile! Been trying to work out how I wanted this scene to go, so I hope you guys like it! Leave any comments or suggestions. There will be one more chapter after this.
Boethiah's altar was the first thing I saw when we stepped through the newly opened doorway. I had lived under the shadow of Hircine's shrine for twelve years and had heard about the other shrines through traveler's stories, but its horrific grandeur stopped me cold.
Boethiah, depicted as a women, rose from ebony stone in the coils of a giant snake. The grotesque creature entwined around her resembling arms and billowing clothes. One snake arm was raised as if it were about to strike down, wielding a nasty sword about the size of my body. The head was hooded, leaving a dark gap where her face should be. It seemed to stare right into me, beckoning me test her will.
Someone was going to die. Someone had to die.
Vorstag stepped forward while I remained frozen, his sword drawn and moving like a man who was lost, desperately looking for a way out. I watched silently as he walked the perimeter of the dark room. Momentarily, he disappeared behind the altar and curved his way back towards me.
"The room is a perfect circle," he said in a rushed voice, pointing. "The ceiling curves up, and it seems to open right at the top. See that grayish light?"
I tore my eyes from the statue and looked to where he pointed. Peering at the hole, I guessed that it cut all the way up to the surface. My eyes followed the circular light shaft down to the area it illuminated. A spiraled engraving with a post at the center. A rotting skeleton laid at its base.
"That hole's got to go all the way to the top," Vorstag continued, rubbing his arms. "There seems to be no other way out, and I don't think we'll be finding any trick doors this time." He dropped a bag from his back and began rifling through it, pulling out ropes and hooks.
"No trick doors." I repeated, watching him. I felt my eyes glaze with bitter tears.
He tossed me rope. "Start knotting," he said as he tied intervals into his own. I didn't move, letting the rope fall to the floor. He turned to me, desperation in his eyes. "Saber, come on."
"Vorstag," I said, sucking in a shaky breath. "Stop. You know it's pointless."
His face darkened and he barked, "I'm not going to sit here and do nothing! Don't you go giving up on me. We've gone to far to just quit at a dead end." I flinched at his voice. It was laced with fear. Not fear from being trapped in Daedra infested bowels of the earth, but fear of betrayal. I was breaking our truce. I was giving up.
"What are you planning on doing then?" I shot back, misery and hollow laughter all in one. "How are you planning on reaching that hole?"
"We can climb the statue."
"You know that opening is not big enough for you to crawl through."
He sighed angrily and began shoving the rope back into his sack. "Then we'll just go back and find another way out." He slung it over his shoulder and walked to the enchanted doorway.
"Vorstag!" I shouted, letting two tears fall. The salty water left pink streaks on my dirty face, but I quickly rubbed them away before he turned back. "You know what this place is. Someone must die." The dark words hung in the musty air, proclaiming a truth he refused to believe.
He stared at me, shifting his weight uncomfortably. After a moment he replied in a heavy, gritted voice, "What are you saying, Saber? You're going to kill me? That why you kept me alive this long, so I could die when it was most convenient?" He paused. "Or are you offering to sacrifice yourself to save me as some twisted way of repenting for your sins?"
"You need to live."
"And you hired me to make sure you lived." He said flatly. "And I plan on honoring our agreement."
"Vorstag," I gulp, breaking eye contact, "Please..."
"Saber," He says, turning away but still looking at me over his shoulder, "This offer is very noble of you, but you're forgetting one thing: I don't do listen to daemons. It says one of us has to die? Well, I say we both live. Now come on." He then continues walking toward the doorway.
I just offered to die for him, to let him live, to show the Daedra and my father that I am not ruled by their whims and traditions. That I would never sacrifice someone else ever again. That I would die in place of the victim. But now I only feel embarrassed. This whole time I preached to Vorstag about how I've rejected the Daedric worship and barbaric ways of the Forsworn, how I will forever reject their commands. But now at the end I tell him I'm giving up on our truce. I'm accepting their terms. I quickly chase after him.
My epiphany is short lived, however, for the stone doorway suddenly seals shut.
"What the hell?" Vorstag sputters, quickly stepping back for his foot was just about to cross the threshold. Recovering, he reaches out and presses on the reformed wall, looking for the cracks and engravings. There are none on this side.
A deep, yet feminine, hiss rings in the cavern, reverberating off the walls and rushing past us in a cold wind. The howling wind sounds like amused laughter.
"Saber?" Vorstag says, looking to me with wide and worried eyes that seem to be searching for something. The wind whips our matted hair about, stinging my eyes. "What's going on? What does she want?"
"We need to leave, now!" I yell, pulling out my dagger and slashing my palm once again.
You know what must be done! My father yells the instant I make contact with the blade's hilt. Your disregard of her command has angered her!
Ignoring him, I bloody the doorway, waiting for the red liquid to soak into the wall. But nothing happens. My blood-print remains on the black stone, shining gruesomely in the unnatural light.
"Maybe it needs new blood?" Vorstag yells over the rushing sound, he grabs the dagger from my hand, attempting to slice his own, when he suddenly gasps in pain. The dagger glows bright red and his drops it to the floor, holding his burnt hand in confusion. He looks to me, but my eyes are no longer on him, but at the sacrificial dais. He follows my gaze.
Back at the dais, the skeleton has begun to glow with harsh blue light, it's contorted form rising upward like a puppet with no strings. Its body heaves upward and the light shoots from its orifices. Suddenly the light and wind pulse outward and the glowing skeleton falls to the ground. The room grows still once again. But something besides the animated corpse is wrong.
My brain explodes and the world spins in flashing light. I scream, falling forward, my hands clenching my skull. I feel my teeth grinding and taste blood as they uncontrolably bite down on my tongue. It's like a seizure, but worse. It's a seizure brought upon by a cruel otherworldly force for amusement.
"Ahhhhgh," a throaty feminine voice drawls, yet the sound shrieks in my ears, threatening to split my skull open. I cry out in pain for every word feels like a flame inside my head. "Wearing flesh is so...distasteful."
I struggle to turn my head and, through the swirling and tears, I see Vorstag standing besides me, looking upon the corpse with disgust and horror. He seems not to be experiencing the same pain as me.
"What do you want from me?!" He bellows over my agonized din.
The daemon laughs, but it does not seem jovial. "So small, so...weak. So...moral. It disgusts me. Do you know who I am? I am the one who has been whispering in your ear. I am Boethiah. Queen of Shadows. Goddess of Destruction. She-Who-Erases. The one who cares only for those who care for themselves, who's hearts are full of purpose, who's lives are full of deeds. The most feared of my deadra brethren." The corpse then took a shaky step forward, the blue light flickering.
As it flickered I began to feel my head clear. The one whispering in my ear? All this time it had been Boethiah, not my father? But that makes no sense. My father's soul in in my blade, he talks to me when I...My blade. Slowly, I reach out and grasp my blade from where Vorstag let it fall. It flares at my touch, but my father says nothing. Grunting, I push myself into a standing position.
"You have rejected my calling, mortal." The corpse hisses, sounding both patronizing and impressed. "That was most unwise."
"I will never sacrifice for your kind again!" I yell, gripping the dagger till I'm white knuckled.
Boethiah's cold laughter stops abruptly, and she turns to me.
She turns to me.
She hadn't been talking to me at all.
She had been talking to Vorstag.
"I don't talk to my prey, especially the weak, outcasted followers of my brother Hircine." Suddenly the pain flares again and I fall. In my clumsy fit, the dagger cuts my hands, but I refuse to let go.
"Let her go, you withered bitch!" Vorstag shouts out, gingerly lifting his sword. "Stop hurting her!" This whole time I thought the Daedra had been guiding me here, setting me up for the fate I ran away from, taking personal interest in my lies and deceit. I had been so consumed in my own problems I forgot I was not the only person here with innermost struggles.
She says she is drawn to selfishness. Vorstag is a mercenary. A hired sword for the highest bidder. There isn't a more selfish occupation than that.
She says she is drawn to pride. Vorstag was definitely full of himself and over estimated his abilities, going as far to market himself.
And finally she says she is drawn to great achievements. I really knew nothing about Vorstag's back-story, other than that his family was killed a group of Forsworn. There were hundreds of Forsworn camps in Skyrim, not just mine. It was quite possible he had taken justice into his own hands.
This whole time she had been talking in his head, egging him on, begging him for blood. And this whole time he tried to ignore her, told himself it wasn't real. Just like I had done with my father's soul in the dagger.
I was such a fool. My father says finally, his voice weak. The red light in the dagger dulls and the blade cools. Such a proud fool. I am sorry my child.
"You dare make demands of me?" Boethiah scoffs, turning back to Vorstag. "I abide only to those who's will is aligned to my own." It paused and a sickening smile crept onto its rotted face. "You have rejected my call for deceit, betrayal, and blood, young Nord. You should know that those who appose me perish in the most dreadful ways."
"I'm not afraid of you!" Vorstag spits ferociously, slowly moving his frame into a defensive stance. "And I will never be your Champion!"
"Is that so?" It says with mock surprise. Then pointing to me, "This one may be defiant, but she knows her place. If you won't trick her into being bound as my host, then I must do it myself."
"I will never do what you or any of your kind wants ever again!" I manage through gritted, blood flecked teeth. "I'd rather die than serve you!"
It laughs hysterically at this."Young mortal you forget that in order to serve me, I require you dead." Suddenly the blue light goes out and a whooshing sound emits from the corpse, causing it to collapsed to the floor in a broken heap.
Then my body hurtles to the sacrificial pole.
It happened so fast, almost magnetic, that I wasn't even aware I was flying until I slammed into the post and all the air left my lungs. This was followed by a sharp crunching sound and a dull ache that grew into white hot pain. Broken ribs.
Harsh blue light shot from the engravings around me, ancient symbols flashing in the stone. I began to push myself away, coughing up some blood when the same magnetic force yanked me around and pulled my arms back tight. My body arched upward and I cried out in pain as it stretched and popped my already broken ribcage. I meet Vorstag's horrified, shocked gaze, and call for help, uselessly struggling to break free. Only my feet move, but they weakly dangle in the air. I'm held fast by magic.
"Saber!" He yells, running to me, acting solely on instinct. Just before he makes it to the dais, a blue light bubbles around me. He crashes into it and tumbles to the floor. A ward. A powerful one. Boethiah's insurance. Only meant to allow weapons and magic through.
I grunt in pain, wincing for every breath makes the magical binding grow tighter. I feel like I'm being crushed, and every moment the stabbing pain in my chest increases making me dizzy. I must look like hell, for Vorstag is quick to scramble up and begins pounding on the ward, trying to break through. He raises his blade in an attempt to slice through it but I manage to yell for him to stop just in time.
"Vorstag!" I force out. "Don't!" Each word makes the binding power clench me tighter, choking me. "The ward...it allows weapons. Don't swing the sword."
He lowers it, the blade wobbling as his shoulders heave in tired frustration. "Saber, I'm so sorry." He says, panic and powerlessness overcoming him. He drops the blade and tries to force his way through the ward once again. "This is all my fault." He mutters. His hands begin to bleed from the pounding. I don't know which one of us is more helpless.
With one final blow, he stops, his head nodded against the ward, shoulders shaking slightly. I'd never seen him so broken. Not when the rocks fell, not when he learned the truth about me, and not when the Dremora defeated him. But the fact that he was rendered useless, his mission failed, had finally broken him down. This was the entertainment Daedra lived for.
The power tightens and I cough in pain, my body shaking involuntarily, fighting to escape. Vorstag looks up at me, eyes wet. "This is all my fault." He says weakly. "That-that monster spoke in my ears, she guided me here, she told me things. I pushed it all aside, ignored it. Thought I could overcome it." He looks down in shame, shaking his head. "I should have told you. You would've known what to do."
"No," I breathe in a painful choking sound, "I wouldn't have. I heard, well, thought I heard it too. I...I was no better. I'm sorry."
He looks back to me, his wet, hazel eyes searching mine. "I'm not going to kill you. I don't care. I won't, no matter what she does to me, I won't become a monster!" He picked up his sword, holding it as if it were a snake. No he wasn't going to...
"Vorstag!" I yelp, squirming, "Don't-you can't!" It's too late. He's tossed his sword into the ward; it passes through easily and lands with a clang at the base of the pole. He cannot get to it now if he wanted to or if I begged him to.
But I can get to mine.
I lost feeling in my hand awhile ago and had completely forgotten that I still hold my dagger. But I can't move my hand. I can't even release it from my grip. I inhale sharply as the pain grows, blurring my vision. Vorstag refused to kill me, but I'm still going to die from suffocation.
You're not going to die. Or your friend.
'Father?' I think to him. 'What do you mean? I can't break free. Vorstag can't get to me.'
Yes. He says quietly, lovingly even. I hadn't heard him speak like that since my mother was alive. Someone has to be sacrificed or neither of you will ever leave this place. But what you seem to forget is that you and him are not the only souls in this room. I am here, living in this dagger.
'What?!' I scream inside, appalled by him even mentioning the idea. 'No. I swore I'd never let your soul be used or released. Once you're gone from this state you will enter a fate worse than death. The Soul Carin...that's the worse fate imaginable. You'll wander in the void aimlessly until you've forgotten who you are and become a demon!'
We don't know that for sure. He says quietly. Those are just stories, dark writings in books that should never be opened.
'I don't want to take the risk!' My body heaves again, breaths coming in and out in a tiny stream. One more constriction and I'll no longer be able to breathe. 'At least I'll go to the afterlife!'
I'm damned anyway, he says gruffly. I can just imagine his face reddening and brows coming together the way he did whenever I countered his orders. I can' let you die. Not like this. Not here. My soul will rest next to your dead body for all of eternity if that happens, always reminding me of how I didn't save you. That is a torture I cannot bear.
'I can't be responsible for losing you again.'
Please, Saber. His voice loses its fatherly love. I order you to release my soul in offering to this Daedric bitch. How dare she insult our Hircine?
I cough again and my airway closes off. This is it. Vorstag watches helplessly, screaming my name from the outside as my body spasms, fighting for air. Blood roars in my ears and the world is a blur, but I force what is left of my conscious into my hand . My thumb. It twitches, slowly reaching to the bottom of the dagger's hilt, the place where the soul gem is embedded.
And with one last spasmodic heave, I press.
Boethiah, take this soul as your sacrifice. Arkay, help him find new life.
And then my world goes black.