Story of a Breton Farm Girl from Cyrodiil, Ch.03, part 21

• Posted by Eviltrain August 12, 2012 - 889 views

  

  3:01am, 25th of Hearth Fire, 4E201

  She could feel them. Softly cosseted behind her lips.

  This isn't... it can't be...

  Erandur quickly walked over to help Nephili back on her feet. "It worked! Mara be praised! You vanished after drinking the Torpor and materialized on the other side. I have never seen anything quite like it. I must also confess, I have never heard of anyone experiencing such ill affects as you just demonstrated. For that, I am sorry. Come, we have no time to lose."

  The Breton could feel a face look up at the dunmer and a hand reach up for aid. The Priest of Mara reached down in kind and pulled the body back onto its feet. It followed him as he lead the way down to the next chamber.

  no... no... ... ...oh gods no...

   

  ... ... ... ... ... blood

  And then, there was the urge. It scratched at the back of her mind, persistent and patient.

  Because, it knew.

  I'm still in the dream! Let me still be in the dream... please...

  Up ahead, the priest had discovereed two more sleepers, worshippers of Vaermina. He called for Nephili's aid as she had lagged behind.

  The strange body conjured a familiar and threw Firebolts at a waking priest. Nephili watched the skirmish unfold through its eyes as magic fires lit up the fearful expression of the priest before consuming him in flames. The second worshipper shot Chain Lightning against them. Erandur closed in with his mace and swung his weapon against the more powerful enemy. The sharp edges tore open his chest, killing him in an instant and splattering blood across the floor.

  Oh gods!

  Nephili found herself doubled over from the shock of lightning hitting the body. The attack had hurt it. It had hurt her.

  This is real isn't it!

  Mara, Stendarr, Dibella, Kynareth, Julianos. Aid me! Please...

  Erandur looked to his companion and grimaced in sympathy. "You don't look well at all. Perhaps the Torpor we found was not in the best condition. You better rest here for now while I go on ahead."

  Nephili looked up at the priest, still doubled over in pain. "No, I... I don't want to be, alone. I'll come... I'll come with you..."

  "I can feel your pain just looking at you. There's no need, daughter, as the source of the nightmares is just in the next room. As soon as I destroy the Skull, I'll have you come back with me to Dawnstar straight away. I promised I would do everything in my power to protect you and I will. Though, given the state your in, your housecarl might not give me the chance."

  Lydia! Oh gods Lydia! She's waiting. Talos, please guide me!

  ... ... ... ... blood

  "No, I'll make it. I'm jus... I'm just... the dream. I just can't shake off the dream. It's become a nightmare..."

  The Dunmer shook his head at her persistence but waited for Nephili to stand back up. He patted her on the back in empathy and carefully let the young mage follow him as he made his way into the main courtyard at the bottom of the great tower. A new flame atronach popped into this plane near him. Erandur turned to see Nephili in a cold sweat but smiling wanly at her own effort.

  "Cassimir, is that you? What's going on?"

  The Priest of Mara turned at the sound. "Wait... Veren... Thorek... you're alive!"

  "Casimir, why are you dressed in those garbs?"

  "I... I no longer use that name. I'm Erandur, Priest of Mara."

  "Priest of Ma... you're a traitor, aren't you? You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you!"

  "I... I was scared. I wasn't ready to sleep."

  "Enough of this! You're here to destroy the Skull aren't you, Priest of Mara? Then die!"

  The battle was brutal but swift. Thorek quickly expended his Firebolts trying to slay Erandur and Nephili while Veren had covered the room with Chain Lightning. The priest and the atronach responded with fire spells in kind until Thorek was forced to engage with his steel. The long sleep robbed him of his strength and what might have been victory. As Thorek fell, his priest brother, Veren, fought valiantly against Nephili's familiar and destroyed the daedra. But, he too fell in the last against Erandur's mace.

  ... ... ... blood

  no.... oh gods no... I shouldn't have asked to come. I shouldn't have come at all...

  Erandur rested for a moment to recover. "I... knew Veren and Thorek. They were once my friends..."

  He looked to Nephili who stood away with eyes closed and fists held so tightly, they had become ashen. "I'll perform the ritual granted to me by Lady Mara and destroy the Skull. Then I'll help you leave with all haste." He walked past the young Breton and climbed the steps to place himself in front of the daedric artifact.

  The young mage held herself as tightly as she could, desperate to ignore her senses, afraid to move, afraid to see, afraid to smell, to hear, to feel, to think...

  ... ... blood

  "I call upon you, Lady Mara! The Skull hungers. It yearns for memories and leaves nightmares in its wake. Grant me the power to break through this barrier and to send the Skull to the depths of Oblivion!"

  In her stillness, she realized she could smell him.

  ...Iii doon't want this...

  ... blood

  He's deceiving you...

  ...no, don't listen...

  blood

  When the ritual's complete, the Skull will be free...

  ...don't think...

  Blood

  Then Erandur will turn on you. Quickly. Kill him now...

  ...please...

  BLOOD!

  Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!

  ...I...

  ...

  The vampire relaxed and opened its eyes. It's gaze turned towards the only thing that mattered and almost shivered in anticipation.

  It leapt up the stairs and pushed the priest off the high platform. He yelled in surprise at the sudden force and tried to turn to see his attacker. Landing on his shoulder, pain shot across his back, telling him his shoulder had dislocated.

  Held down with force, the priest felt the pin pricks on his neck before the teeth bit into his flesh, ravenous. Erandur screamed and tried to push his attacker away.

  CRACK

  She felt his neck give under pressure.

  ...someone...

  She chewed his flesh, overcome with heat.

  ...stop...

  An immense amount of blood gushed into her mouth.

  Overcome by the lurid smell, she smiled, spilling the nectar.

   

  Erandur accepted what he already knew. He spoke his last words. "...May Mara forgive you... ..."

  Nephili raised her blood covered face and screamed.

  *     *     *     *

  6:00am, 25th of Hearth Fire, 4E201

  Lydia checked the horizon one more time. The fire she had started outside the entrance had long since died into embers, the warmth that it gave, forgotten. She stretched out her sword arm and loosened the strap on her scabbard. Her Thane and the priest had not returned as promised by sunrise. Quickly downing a few bits of rations, she made ready to enter the temple when a knock could be heard from the other side of the entrance.

  She drew her sword, unsure of what might come but dared to hope. The door opened slowly, revealing a young Breton girl who immediately shaded her eyes against the rising dawn. She stood there for a moment, absorbing the light.

  Lydia breathed a sigh of relief and returned her sword to its scabbard. She could see no injury upon her person and smiled for the first time since arriving at these ruins. "Were you successful my Thane? Did you destroy the evil?"

  Her Thane shifted her focus to the Nord and stared deeply at her eyes. After a moment, the Breton seemed to relax a bit and offered up an anemic smile. "It's... ... ...done."

  From behind the door, she revealed a most hideous staff. Lydia immediately recoiled at the sight.

  "What manner of staff is that? Such a horror..."

  The Breton looked at the weapon and carefully nodded. "It's the Skull of Corruption and it's what had been causing the nightmares in Dawnstar. The priest... Erandur, he was supposed to destroy it using some arcane art."

  The Nord warrior peaked over her Thane's head and into the gloom beyond. "Why is it not destroyed then? Where is the priest?"

  The young mage flinched, her eyes expressing the void within.

  Lydia immediately regretted asking the question. "I see. I'm sorry..."

  Nephili nodded her head in timid jerks, and nearly whispered her response. "It... it was un... unavoidable." She swallowed the rest.

  The warrior nodded knowingly, allowing a moment of silence to pass. Breathing deeply, she spoke, "We should return back to the Inn then my Thane. It's been a long night and we have not rested in a day..."

  "NO!"

  ...

  "... I mean..., no I, I want to return to the College as quickly as possible. There is research to be done, which I need to do with... all haste..."

  Lydia nearly retreated, almost surprised by the strength of the rejoinder. "Of, of course. We were long in coming here. Perhaps returning to the College would be best..."

  The Breton looked on almost remorsefully. She opened her mouth to speak, but then pressed her lips together, swallowing what she might have said. Turning east into the sunrise, the young woman pulled her mage's habit over her head and pulled the cowl low upon her face. She walked up the bright hillside, staff in one hand and her head hung low.

  The Nord warrior followed after.

  *     *     *     *

  The most awful word in the english tongue isn't murder; it's alone.