"For the last time, I will not search the entrails of your decaying child to tell you what happened to her! Now get out or I'll report you to the guard!" a hooded Redguard shouted over his tankard.
"So nice to see you again, Falion," I replied dryly. His head snapped to look at me with bloodshot, jaundiced eyes. Anger burned in them like a senchal tiger, then fled into the shadows under his heavy lids. Rising, he swayed across the room, which was small, dirty, but otherwise uncluttered. A small girl sat on a fraying hay bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. In the corner stood an enchanter, its yellowing candles lighting a troll skull perched in the center. Another troll skull yawned at the ceiling, flanked by more candles; all of which lay on a bookshelf containing soulgems, books, potions, and a further assortment of skulls. It was, in essence, precisely as I remembered it.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he accused as my gazed turned back to the man. I lowered my hood for a moment and his eyes lit in recognition.
"I've come to ask more more questions."
"Ah, still having problems with conjuration are we?" he said, looking at me with intense pity. "I have a potion that might help you. Just let me see here..." His bony fingers searched the bookshelf frantically for a particular bottle, many of which looked suspiciously like skooma.
"This isn't about conjuration, I'm afraid. Though it is a magic-related problem."
"Oh? It's not? Well... Please, sit down. Tell me what's wrong, maybe I have something for you." Instead, I paced the room while Valindor sat on the edge of one of the beds. I tried to figure out how to phrase the question without revealing too much, but in the end, I opted for the direct route. In this matter, I've always been as bad as the Nords when it comes to secrecy.
"The Dawnguard tell me you know how to cure vampirism," I began.
"I have found a kind of remedy, yes. Have you been stricken? If so, you have my condolences. I know it's not easy to handle the hunger. There is a little bottle of blood here, I could give it to you for a pittance. Or, if you like, I could try to employ the greater remedy I've discovered." The Redguard's hands shook as his hands absently meandered through his stock for the various items mentioned.
For a moment, I pondered his eagerness to sell me one of his services. Falion must be hurting for money if he's pandering to me now. I don't remember him quite so eager a few months ago, I thought. Absently, I scanned his bookshelf, leafing through a tome, which he practically threw himself at me to sell. When I had him sufficiently sweating at my apparent indifference, I finally responded. "Actually, Falion, I do have a friend who is afflicted. I just wanted to know, what is it you actually do to rid people of that curse? I would love to bring her here to be cured, but I don't want her to be harmed."
"It's a very simple process for the...client. No harm comes to them at all. I merely require a filled soulgem of a certain type, and I complete a ritual out in the marsh that retrieves their soul," he explained offhandedly. I noticed his eyes darting to my friend frequently, as if either trying to remember him or trying to assess him as a patron. Suddenly, I found that I didn't like this new Falion at all.
"What kind of soulgem? What ritual?" I pressed, a vague sense of hope filled me for Hrefna's future. She could grow up, grow old, and die, like a normal person should.
"A b-black one, of course. It must be filled with the soul of a p-person. And the ritual is... It involves..." Falion wrung his hands violently as his whole body shook as he met my intense gaze with a watery glance. "Cuss it! Stendarr have mercy on me! There is no cure. It's a sham! A fraud!"
"What?"
"I needed the money. Some Bosmer from the Dawnguard seemed so ready to believe there was a nonviolent way to accomplish the order's mission. She just took the bait so easily. I couldn't help myself! I mean, yes, the participant is no longer a vampire, but I condemn someone else to that accursed realm! But the money was good. I just knew it was a matter of time before they caught on..." Falion confessed.
I reeled, and then remembered that I hadn't told him about the shipment of soulgems right outside his door. Let him discover that for himself. Then there was-- "What realm are you talking about?"
"The Soul Cairn. The gods forsaken Soul Cairn. We send the captured soul there as a trade for the vampire's soul. Please, don't tell anyone. No one would believe me, or you, but I'd be thrown out of town! I can't go anywhere else."
"Do you know where it is? How to get there?"
"What? No, of course not. I only open up a dialogue with the spirits there." Sitting uneasily in a chair, the Redguard snatched a small vial from the insides of his robes, uncorked the bottle with a soft pop, and downed the contents. A low moan trembled out of his lips, like the sound one makes after having held their bladder for a particularly long time. His eyes flickered shut and a contented expression slathered its way across his face. It was some minutes before he remembered we were in the room. "You won't report this, will you?"
"No. I won't. I'm not here to enforce the law. Listen, I need to be going. You'll find compensation just outside your door," I nodded to Valindor, who followed me to the door where I paused. "Take care of yourself, Falion."
"Thank you, my dear. If you ever need any magical items, I'll be more than happy to apply a discounted price." His eyes were practically weeping with relief.
Outside, night had well and truly fallen for the stars gleamed overhead in the cold, clear night sky. I sucked in a deep breath and released it as a plume. The smell of stale, unwashed skin and old smoke had been getting on my nerves, so the cold air was a balm to my senses--a clean wash of the palate as it were.
"He looked a little like that when I ran into him in the inn. This was far worse. I've seen men and mer alike waste away from skooma addiction. That man's on the verge of killing himself," Valindor commented as we strode briskly toward the inn, the dark of the night chilling and unnerving us both. Something larger was afoot, but I couldn't quite grasp what it was. Still, I knew I was on the trail of this elusive prey and the way to the Soul Cairn seemed to be both growing closer and further away at the same time.
When we reached the inn, we slipped inside and gratefully accepted the warmth of the round hearth in the center of the room. Renting a room, we sat together in a pair of chairs leaned against a wall opposing the bed and ate our dinner in private. After a time, Valindor retired to the bed, while I sat recording my latest advances in my research.
Just outside the door, heavy boots thumped across the stone floor to the bar, where a stool scraped hoarsely as someone moved it aside.
"You look particularly hangdog tonight, Gorm. Trouble with the missus again?" croaked the bartender, an elderly Redguard from what I recalled.
"Nah. Just been talkin' to Hroggar on my way here. Still looks at me like I don't exist."
The woman sighed, and I heard the soft rasp of a cloth against wood, "Tell me about it. Ever since those vampires attacked his wife, he just hasn't been the same. Falion neither. You know they stole that shipment of...whatever it is he usually gets?"
"No. Wizard's so doped up on skooma, I don't think he noticed it was gone. Poor Idgrod won't have much help from him soon. They ever catch the blood-suckin' bastards?"
"Not that I know of. The Vigilants were supposed to take care of it. Said they found a lair not far from their hall. Haven't heard from 'em since, though. It's been, what, three months now?" Gorm grunted in response and the conversation moved on to other less interesting topics.
With a yawn, I stood and stretched, eyeing the ostentatious draperies. They looked much too formal for an inn in the province's poorest hold. Then my eyes fell to the sleeping form of Valindor. I felt tired and in need of some proper sleep, but suddenly, I was nervous about sharing that bed. Derkeethus and I had eventually gotten to the point where sleeping near each other was no problem. I thought nothing of it.
But this was different. Val constantly made me nervous and exhilarated, and while I was no stranger to the sensations of attraction, this variation felt...more intense somehow. Either way, I was tired and the bed looked too comfortable. So, with no small amount of trepidation, I curled up on the farthest side, and welcomed sleep's crushing abyss.
