Challenges

Chapter 28 Nightmares

Too weakened to stand, Saber shuffled feet trying to stand or walk. Two of the vampires dragged him along behind the man named Valos. He neither looked back nor seemed concerned that he might try to escape. He must have faith in his spells, Saber glared behind him.
Nekros followed behind where he couldn’t see him. Only the sound of boots clicking on the stone floor gave any indication the vampire was near.
Nekros is alive!
His mind refused to accept the monster was anything but dead. It had been almost ten years since he’d killed him. Memories flashed of his death, the blade sliding across his throat, and blood pooling about his head. He’d dragged the lifeless body to the river and watched in horror as the unblinking, and dead…yes, they were very dead...eyes stared up at him.
Saber made another attempt to struggle against the vampires that held him, but whatever magick the mage used against him left him weak as a baby. Feet scrabbled against the floor as they hoisted him by his arms to stumble along between them.
Nekros…after all this time…alive! No…dead, or more specifically undead. How long had he been living the life of a vampire? Saber had no memory of ever seeing him drink blood, sleeping in a coffin, even baring fangs. Memories include, however, a nocturnal lifestyle, how curtains covered windows, rarely if ever did they see the sun. How could he have kept his vampirism so well hidden?
As they entered the locked room he’d passed before, Saber felt his stomach lurch at the sight of the dungeon that the room held. Once a room that might have held battle plans of the ancient Dunmer, the Imperial now arranged an executioner’s dream, and a victim’s worst nightmare!
Along the walls, the man had chains for just as much decoration as to hold his victims, several in fact. Splayed next to one another, the bodies hung almost as if to show off the damage done to each one. Tables were set into rows to display organized tools of his trade from razor blades to jagged edged knives, bodkins, prongs, and things Saber couldn’t even recognize. A cage sat off to the far corner, and the center of the room rested a slightly raised dais placed between two stone pillars. Fastened into each support was a unique web of chain and pulleys. Saber felt his mouth go dry at the sight of it.
He jerked against the vice-like grip of his captors and found himself practically thrown to a raised dais. Before he could try to run, they were forcing manacles at wrists and ankles. He fought as best he could, even daring to bite at them, but a quick wave of Valos’ hand, everything went black. The spell of blindness frightened him more than the draining weakness. He could now see nothing of his enemies as they forced him into his confinement.
“Feryl…really.” Nekros chided him, clucking his tongue. “I thought you’ve grown out of that type of behavior.”
Blinded, every fiber of his senses on edge, Saber found it difficult to breath. He roused anger, hoping to keep terror abated. As chains pulled arms and legs. Joints protested and the pain brought him sharply into focus. Any movement now only served to shoot agony into his body.
“You bastard-“ Saber growled, using anger to mask his fear. He cringed when he felt someone approach. He heard the footsteps, felt their presence standing too close. Splayed like a carcass, he felt vulnerable and wide open.
“You’re not an easy mer to find.” Nekros spoke now, definitely too close. The tone was low, the voice gruff and torn. “I’ve spent almost ten years seeking your whereabouts.”
Saber heard his own breathing quicken too much in panic, and he forced himself to calm. He said nothing, refusing to respond. He would remain impassive. He’d not want to give Nekros the satisfaction of knowing the extent of his fear.
“Valos.” Nekros commanded, “I want him to see me.”
A sharp pain stabbed into his eyes, and Saber jerked back to find Nekros inches away from him. The Vampire smiled, baring teeth, and the glowing eyes remained unblinking as he studied his victim. Saber was still grasping the truth the man was before him. Here before him stood everything that terrified him, that woke him in cold sweats from nightmares, which brought back a flood of memories he had wanted to forget.
Nekros had changed somewhat, and the differences were more than just the apparent transformation of being a vampire. Back then, Nekros kept his shoulder length hair loose and unkempt giving an almost vagabond appearance. Now hair was bound back in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Brilliant yellow eyes, once dark, were set wide, the nose straight, and his lips thin. He was handsome by some standards, except for the complete lack of humanity in his expression. He was like a statue, cold and devoid of anything human.
The vampire wore mostly blacks, accentuated with deep burgundy and wine colored trim. There was a certain level of elegance to him now. Years ago, he held little concern for appearance. To Feryl, he had always been a large, viscous looking man. Nekros wasn’t so large now, Saber noticed. In fact, Saber guessed he was as tall if not an inch taller, although not carrying the weight. Imperials were stocky and built with bulk. Elves were lightweight, but carried speed.
Valos selected among his array of tools a particularly nasty curved dagger before he stepped forward and began slicing through the light armor leather Saber wore. The Dunmer flinched, hoping the blade would not cut too close, but the man worked the blade like a surgeon.
All leather and clothing were removed and cast aside. The dampness of the room caused him to shiver. Amid the armor and clothing, Valos continually found secreted weapons and tools Saber used. Lockpicks, slim blades, a dagger, even throwing stars, were hidden in pockets or folds of clothing. The vampires snickered at the growing pile of items, clearly impressed with the amount of weaponry the elf had on him.
Nekros eyed him curiously, golden eyes narrowing. “You’re very quiet, Feryl. What are you thinking?”
Saber was finding it very difficult to hide his trembling. He wet lips before speaking. “I was thinking you look shorter than I remember-“ At least he sounded braver than he felt. Even before he finished his sentence, a hand shot up and clipped him under the jaw, snapping his head back. The blow left the taste of blood in his mouth.
“Well yes,” Nekros spoke as if nothing had happened. “I might seem a bit shorter, being you’ve grown up.” The yellowed eyes flickered across and down his body, noting the handiwork of his henchman. “Grown up rather well, I might add.”
Nekros moved to circle him, taking slow deliberate steps to let boots click against the floor. He prowled around his ‘apprentice’ and seemed to revel in the scene before him. Something in that look made Saber feel fear pinch his determination to give the man nothing of his apprehension. Memories of this man and what he’d enjoy doing to his ‘pet elf’ made him feel sick. He swallowed the metallic taste in his mouth, and wondered if this bloodsucker intended on killing him now.
“I can see you still hate me…fear me as well.” Nekros purred, enjoying the drama. He paused behind him to lean in from behind, blowing cool breath against his ear. “I can practically taste it. Good to know you still have so much fire in you. I must admit your killing me was unexpected.” He paused to chuckle gently. “I knew eventually you would try. However, I hadn’t considered you to attempt my murder so young.”
Saber tried not to cower when Nekros moved in front of him once again, standing too close. Almost by instinct, his reaction was the same as when he was a boy. With effort, he lifted his chin defiantly. “So now what? You kill me?” Please, just end it now. Better that than any other plans he might come up with!
“Kill you? Is that why you think you’re here?” Nekros was aghast. His thin mouth curled into a wicked smile. “My dear boy, I have no intention of killing you.”
That’s what I was afraid of… Saber slumped a bit in his shackles.
The undead creature trailed a long fingernail along Saber’s jaw. “No, my wayward apprentice, I have no thought of killing you-“ The mouth widened to expose his sharp fangs. “Not in the sense that you think.”
Saber recoiled not wanting to be touched. “What then?”
Nekros laughed, a dry wheezing sound that bubbled up from his damaged throat. “You’re too valuable to me to let go.” He sighed, shaking his head. “This was always the case, or hadn’t you figured that out? I vested quite a bit of time and energy into making you what you are. I provided training, discipline…I took a wild Dark Elf from the streets and formed him into …” The vampire paused before placing his hand on Saber’s chest. “This. Yes, your Master Kendari might have given you some training, but I am the one that provided the stronger influence.”
Saber scowled, refusing to respond to his claim. Merthisan and Lyra had also persuasion on the young elf, and in many ways, he considered their lessons more valuable. Nonetheless, there was no denying the influence Nekros has on him, even now.
“Tell me, Feryl.” Nekros’s expression softened. “Did you feel nothing when you killed me? Was it truly out of mercy to end my pain?”
“I felt that I was finally free-“ Saber began feeling an odd sense the vampire might be using a charm spell on him. Why else would they be wasting time in discourse when he should be plotting an escape?
“Free? Freedom is an illusion, dear boy. None of us are truly free.”
“Free from you.” Saber spat.
“Again, an illusion.” Nekros moved hands behind his back to stroll slowly back and forth. The mannerism was often how he’d lecture Saber as a boy. “Being I was not completely dead, you were never truly free, now were you? And free from what? Discipline? Training? Really, Feryl, do you think that I didn’t have your best interests in mind?”
Could he not realize how cruel he was? The man was insane! “You were a monster, Nekros-“
“Monster?” The vampire splayed a hand over his chest, eyes widened in mock surprise. He even gave a derisive snort at the idea. “You are an ungrateful wretch, aren’t you? Yes, I punished you when you were disobedient, but did I not heal you afterward? I cared for you like a son, and how did you repay me? You try to kill me!” He stepped closer, the serene face twisted into anger.
Saber sneered, released his contempt. “A father? What you did to me, no father does…”
“How would you know?” Nekros leaned forward, unblinking as he glared anger to his captive. Saber felt small again, trying to remember a time he had parents, or anything remotely similar to a family. A brow rose up mockingly. “Eh? No answer to that? You know nothing of family. I can tell you fathers do indeed treat their sons such as I did…and worse.”
Dumbstruck, the elf was taken aback by Nekros admission. Never once had the thought occurred to him that in his own past, the man might have been a victim of another. He never considered Nekros’ history, what made him into the fiend he was now. Saber had assumed the delight in causing pain was enough, that the man was insane.
“Why didn’t you just kill me?” Saber was curious about this. If Nekros had been a blood-sucking vampire all this time, why had he never tried to drink his blood?
Nekros straightened, perhaps relieved on the change of subject. “I told you. Believe it or not, you were valuable to me. I didn’t kill you when you were a boy because I wanted you grown before I did.” Saber frowned at this, feeling his blood turn to ice as he could only guess the answer for that. “I wanted you filled out as it were, to have all your potential before you were changed.”
Changed? Saber felt his throat constrict as blood drained from his face. Nekros was watching his reaction, pleased with the affect his words had on his victim. “That’s right…” He hissed in delight. “You will be embraced and become as I am, and the rest of my clan.”
Changed into a vampire…
“No…” Saber felt the weight of terror pressing against him, his mind almost numb with disbelief. He can’t make me…can he? “No…I won’t join you.”
Nekros smirked. “Of course I don’t expect you to want to join me…not yet.” The brilliant eyes glinted, his thin brows rose up in pretended revelation. “Valos, however, might change your mind.”
“What makes you think I won’t try to destroy you, even if I’m changed?” Saber challenged him. If he was lucky, he might be able to anger the vampire enough to kill him. “I hate you…I will hate you for eternity.”
“Yes, I know you feel this way now, but trust me, things will be different once you’re mine.” Nekros smirked. He was so sure, so confident in how things were going to be. “Once embraced and once you shed your mortality, you’ll see things my way. I knew that was how it was going to be when I took you in as a foundling.”
Jerking violently against the shackles, something akin to hysteria rose up in the Dunmer. If his legs were free, he might be able to kick at him- “You’ll have to kill me first-“ He snarled.
To this Nekros laughed, coughing out a ragged sound. “That’s the general idea.” He waved his hand to Valos who stood patiently waiting near his tools. “But I am being thoughtless. Valos has his orders. There is the small item of your punishment, and I need you broken before I’m willing to embrace you. I wont have you fight me-“ He paused to step very close against his victim, enjoying the apparent trembling, the rapid breath of his fear. Nekros spoke to Valos without breaking eye contact with Saber. The Dunmer felt cold and alone. “Do not maim him. I do not want him damaged beyond repair. But teach him some respect.”
His laughter echoed in the Dark Elf’s ears….

---------------------
“We can’t take the Silt Strider.” Eiryn whispered to Merthisan as they crouched low atop one of the square houses of Balmora. From this angle, they could see the market square and the strider port. Two of the mercenaries kept an eye on the only means to leave the city aside from walking. They even watched the Mage’s guild, so teleporting to Ald Ruhn was also out of the question.
Eiryn also notice there was more than the five of them as well. She found the city soon crawled with a number of the thugs, and the city guard was nowhere to be found.
The swordmaster and the scout could only assume these men had something to do with Saber, and having few other options, would have to find another way to leave Balmora without being discovered.
“Looks like we walk.” The swordmaster muttered, looking in the direction of the strider port.
“We can head to Caldera, they have a mage’s guild there. We can teleport to Ald Ruhn then.” The scout suggested, feeling practically naked without the weight of a pack on her shoulders and her staff in her hands. The only weapons between them were Merthisan’s long sword and a dagger, for she’d left all her things in her room at the Eight Plates. She’d buy or trade for more supplies in Caldera.
“How long of a walk is that?” Merthisan asked her, moving along the rooftops until they reached a low balcony.
“We’ll reach Caldera by morning if we hurry, and don’t face any trouble.” Trouble, however, was something that was inevitable on the roads in Vvardenfell. If not bandits, then they’d encounter any type of wild beast on the way there. I really need to learn some stealth skills, she thought to herself. How Saber managed to get to and from places with avoiding the Silt Striders was remarkable.
Traveling thru the northern archway, Eiryn heard a voice call after them. She dared a glance over her shoulder, seeing one of the men had caught sight of their exit, and she nudged Merthisan to quicken the pace. “Running might be a good idea…” She told him, breaking into a fast sprint.
Merthisan wanted to stand and fight but good as was with a sword, they were sorely outnumbered. Damn it! What could they want? Like a pack of predators, the men stormed after them.
“Get them!”
“Don’t let them get away!”
“Faster!”
Their voices were growing ragged, as the scout managed to stay ahead at a fair distance. Just as she thought their chances were improving, something hit the back of legs, tying her up to fall forward- hard!- on her stomach. Breath knocked out of lungs, leaving her wheezing and stunned for several valuable moments.
Merthisan drew out his sword, readying to face their foes, to fight to the end. “Get away, you dogs!” He snarled, engaging them with ferocity as they descended upon them. Even as he killed two, the remaining men were obvious on catching them both alive.
Eiryn struggled against the strange bolo that had tangled her legs. Even as she found her footing, she knew they were fighting a losing battle. She had no weapon, and the sheer numbers of attackers would soon have their way. What could they want?

xxxxxxxx
“My lord Nekros.” Valos spoke, giving a respectful bow before the vampire ‘lord’ as he preferred to be called. It sickened the Imperial to serve this vile thing, but Nekros had been persuasive and so far, generous as well. Gold was the most convincing, but moreso was the authority promised to the outcast Legionnaire. Having been unduly dismissed from his post, Valos found life to hold no meaning. Nekros had given him purpose and power. “The Dunmer’s friends will be soon within our grasp.”
The vampire wasn’t looking at him but studying a map stretched out on one of the tables in a lower room. Dressed in velvets, the elegance was almost distracting. “And Feryl?”
Valos clenched teeth, feeling too disregarded as usual. Why does he care so much for that wretched creature? “He is, as you’ve said, quite resistant to pain.”
“A challenge to you I’m sure.” Nekros commented wryly.
“He has yet to yield, but I’m confident in time, he will come around.” The Butcher told him. “You have plans to use his friends against him?”
“Very observant, as always.” The vampire said with a smile. He looked up, motioning Valos to step closer and stand before him. “One of his greatest flaws is this desire for relationships with others. I’ve tried to teach him otherwise, but I believe my plan will prove more effective.”
Valos patiently waited for more information, and more importantly, his role in this plan.
“Once Feryl realizes he has no one in the world left to him, he will see that we are all that he has left.” Nekros seemed pleased with his idea. Valos was not so sure. Understanding close ties to others was not a strong point in either of them. His own family was distant, his marriage arranged, and even the children he had left for schooling before he learned their names. How could Nekros or even he understand the subtle mechanisms of the heart?
“Why not simply embrace him?” The butcher had seen enough with the other vampires and their transformation to know that once enthralled by Nekros, once transformed into one of his clan, their loyalties were surmount. He himself waited for that special moment when the vampire would change him as well. His ‘humanity’ if one might call it that, was still useful however. Valos could still travel in the sun, procure supplies for their base, and keep the human mercenaries in line for the time being.
Nekros leaned back in his chair, touching a finger to his chin in consideration of the question. “Feryl needs to learn who is his master. He understood once, and needs reminding. Once he comes to me willingly, then I will embrace him. Not before.” He hesitated, tilting his head slightly to set a calculating eye on the Butcher. “You don’t like him.”
“I wasn’t aware that I had to like him.” Valos spoke in a dry tone. “You know my feelings about…elves.”
“Don’t think of him as an elf then, Valos. We will all be of one blood. He will be one of us.” His blood, his clan.
“But a Dunmer? How can he ever be trusted?”
Nekros’ smile widened. “He’s no ordinary Dunmer. Even you must see that. That being said, once he is embraced, he will be like the others.”
“Obedient?” Valos questioned this reasoning. All master vampires thought themselves godlike, instilling power over others, creating thralls and new minions only to find within their ranks a traitor or one willing to try to overthrow the leader.
When Valos offered the outcast Legionnaire a chance to be something more, he had to admit, the lure of power was enticing. Now, however, seeing such a unwilling Dark Elf and Nekros’ assurance he will be unquestionably obedient, was raising more questions than providing answers. Would he be just a blind thrall as well?
“You have your orders, Valos. Feryl needs punishment, but more importantly, he needs to know who is master.” Nekros turned back to his maps in a subtle way of dismissing the Butcher. “And remember…he is not to be maimed.”
“Yes my lord.” Valos glared behind the vampire’s back.