It was mid-day in Solitude and Nephili lay in bed, looking up at her hand and unable to sleep. She frowned at the calluses forming on her palm, the result of a bad habit of gripping her spells too tightly before releasing them. The Old Man and Tarerane would have chastised her if they could see her now. Magic is like any appendage young one. You no more need to grab it than you would grab your own arm.
But I want my spells to be stronger. The world is so much more dangerous than I had imagined. I wish I could ask you...
From the moment they had entered the cavern, it had felt like a great burden had been placed on Nephili. Seeing the vortex of magics had revealed why she had felt that way but it did not make her feel any better. Unlike the quiet of the blue orb inside Saarthal, this collective of power raged like a thousand screams. She wondered how the others could not feel its pressure. Instead, the Nord and the Dunmer showed bravery and power and wit in battle that she... couldn't match.
When they had reached the top of that tower, the housecarl had charged the instant the skeletal warriors came into view with Brelyna just a step behind. Nephili had willed herself up the final steps only to freeze, her mind suddently gazing down at the fray. The Breton could see the Dunmer turn to face her below, asking her to join the fight just before a necromancer blasted her with a stream of Cold. Watching the Adept fall to the ground had jolted the young Breton, finally bringing her back into the moment. She threw Firebolts into the skirmish, destroying the last skeletal warrior and freeing the housecarl before picking up her friend. They would win the day but not without serious injury to Brelyna. Her magics helped to balm the Dunmer's pain but the frost damage was too much for the Breton's skill level. They had hobbled all the way back to Solitude that very night so that the healers at the Temple of the Divines could attend to the Dunmer's injuries.
This is pointless... I can't sleep!
The Breton got up and headed downstairs into the main room of the Winking Skeever. She spotted the housecarl eating her midday meal near the fireplace and enjoying the company of the boisterous crowd. Hoping to avoid her notice, the Breton slipped quietly past and headed towards the door.
"My Thane, are we headed out?"
She turned to find the Nord warrior already behind her. "No. I just wanted to get some fresh air, you don't need to get up. If it's all the same to you, I'd like some time alone."
The housecarl paused to speak but nodded once and headed back to her table.
Outside, the young mage stood in the main thoroughfare of the city, busy with speech and footsteps. The capital of Skyrim, it was also the current stronghold of the Imperial army, fighting to bring order to a country racked by civil war. Abled men and women milled about as they prepared to join the legion, brave souls that had risked the dangers of lawless highways to come here. Walking through the business district, Nephili readily took in the clamor to distract her own thoughts. Up above at the castle courtyard level could be heard the sounds of a forgemaster, no doubt fulfilling the Legions orders to outfit the new recruits. The sounds reminded Nephili of her father's forge and the home she had left behind. She walked a little faster.
Just outside the market district sat a Temple of Arkay. It was a small building, holding court just above a garden cemetery with a small adjoining structure. Among the headstones were three children arguing. A young girl seemed to be pleading with her friends who were clearly unhappy. She walked by and could hear the young lass talking. "You have to come! You have to help me get Uncle Roggvir's amulet back!"
The other girl responded. "That place is scary; I don't want to go."
A young boy spoke in turn. "I... my dad says I have to help at the forge today. I think I better get back." The boy turned to leave.
"Kayd? I'm coming too." Before turning away, the other girl pleaded with the first. "Don't go in there. My mom says it's not safe. I... have to go."
Nephili watched the two friends run out of the small cemetery. Sensing a need for an adult hand, she walked in and spoke to the young lass. "What's wrong?"
The little girl looked up at the stranger and took a step back. "...Mother says I shouldn't talk to people."
The Breton blinked at the pronouncement and smiled ruefully. "Your mom sounds like she loves you very much." She proceeded to leave.
"Umm, wait..."
The apprentice turned back.
"Can... can you help me?"
"Perhaps. What do you need help with?"
"Well... ever... ever since Uncle Roggvir went to Sovngarde, my mom has been really sad and she stopped going to Temple and, my dad, I don't think he knows what to do. Uncle Roggvir wanted to give my mom his amulet. I know because he told me but his friends from the castle came and took him away. My dad says he's in the catacombs now and that's where good Nords go to Sovngarde and... umm..."
"... and you want me to help you get his amulet. Is that it?"
"Yeah. Can you help me? I just need someone who'll go with me but my friends, they won't do it."
"Hmm. Why don't I go in for you? I'm pretty sure your mother and father would be very angry with you for going inside. If I go though, then you won't have to get in trouble."
"Really? You would do that? But..." The little girl looked up at the Breton with guilt on her face. “But...”
"It's all right. I'm a big girl and I know how to handle myself." The apprentice gave the young lass a big smile.
"All... alright ...you're pretty nice for a stranger. My name is Svari."
"And my name is Nephili. This shouldn't take too long so, I'll see you in a bit."
The Breton mage turned to the catacomb structure, happy to distract herself from her own worries. It was a small, nondescript building with a set of stairs leading down to a pair of heavy iron doors. The hinges looked well oiled. No doubt, a cemetery for a big city would be used often and was perfectly safe.
I know how to handle myself, huh? Who am I trying to convince?
She opened the heavy doors and entered the crypt.
* * * *
The catacombs beneath the churchyard was very similar in style to the ancient barrows and tombs lost in the wilderness of Skyrim. Long hallways connected by oddly shaped chambers were lined with row upon row of recesses filled with the bodies of the dead. Nephili clucked her tongue at her own naivety for thinking that an oft used crypt would be less unsettling.
She walked through the still air of the hallway and entered the first main chamber and backpedaled. A skeleton warrior stood atop the steps ahead and had turned around to face the intruder. Nephili held aloft her hands and pushed her Flames into the monster. It approached with murderous intent but fell apart in the intense heat. With its bones scattering, the mage bloomed her familiar with one hand and enveloped herself in Oakflesh with the other.
Even in a busy crypt...
The young Breton proceeded cautiously up the stone steps. Peering around the next corner at the top of the stairs, she spied another skeletal warrior in the distance standing in front of a fresh wooden casket. She willed her wolf spectre to attack the monster. It ran to the enemy and drove it's fangs into its forearm causing both skeleton and spectre to tumble to the ground. The skeleton warrior shed it's shield arm to free itself of the familiar's grip and stood up with sword at the ready. A second sword flashed into view and drove its edge into the back of the conjuration, destroying it. A draugr stepped into view and looked towards the steps to spy the Breton.
Nephili's eye's widened at the ancient nordsman. She quickly conjured another spectre and stepped around the corner with Firebolts. Several shots quickly destroyed the skeletal warrior. The familiar lunged at the draugr who nimbly swung his shield to bash its head. The Breton froze for an instant and watched the familiar scramble onto its feet only to be pinned down by the draugr's sword. Another conjuration fell apart and now the monster approached the Breton mage.
...no... No... NO!
The apprentice conjured Oakflesh once more and strafed the draugr, battering it with one Firebolt after another. The creature raised his sword and swung at her head and missed, its great swing easy to read. Flames enveloped his upper body as Nephili backpedaled, trying to create distance now. The tip of his sword flashed through the fire and sliced across her chest. She screamed at the hot flash of pain. A line of blood began to soak her habit. She threw several more Firebolts, her magics now severally exhausted.
NO!
The draugr stopped his advance and roared into the void, beating his chest at this foe. Nephili teared up with desperate anger. More than once did the young mage make foolish judgements out of fear. She had fired magics aimlessly, had thrown herself into battles too incautiously and had stood frozen repeatedly. And now, there was no one here to save her from her own mistakes. She reached down to the bottom of her well of magics, desperately scraping for power and pushed. Hot pain flashed upon her chest, her blood pumping, but the burning seemed to be coming from the Saarthal amulet. In an instant, her well increased, allowing her to conjure one more familiar. The spectre immediately attacked the monster.
She glanced over to the fallen skeletal warrior some ten paces away and ran to grab its weapon. If she was going to die here, she was going to try everything. Picking up the sword, she turned around and swung wildly into empty air. More blood seeped out from her chest. The draugr drove its hilt into the head of the spectral wolf, stunning its movements. Lifting his sword high above its head, he made to drive its edge downward once again. The mage willed the spectre to back away, who narrowly avoided the thrust. The familiar than half circled the ancient and jumped upto to rip into its sword arm, momentarily knocking it off balance. Nephili ran at the draugr and drove the tip of her sword into its back. The draugr barked before falling to the ground. The Breton raised her weapon and awkwardly brought her weight to bare into the downward swing. Repeating the motion several times, she drove the blades edge into the flesh of the draugr. Despite the attacks, the draugr brought itself upto its fours and swung his sword arm towards the mage, knocking the familiar into the Breton and causing both to tumble backwards.
Nephili waded through her daze as the draugr stood up. The familiar rolled back onto its feet and attacked the ancient once again. Feeling her magics regaining, the mage dropped her sword and stood up with Firebolts in both hands. She circled the ancient and began driving bolt after bolt into the undead horror.
"My Thane!"
Lydia was below the top steps, bow in hand, releasing an arrow into the draugr. Drawing her blade, she rushed at the monster and swung her blade into its head. She dropped low with shield up as it swung its blade down to cleave her body. The familiar bit into its leg as it struggled to pull the draugr down. Impaled with a thrust of sword and burning with bolts of fire, the undead opened its mouth as if to speak and finally fell to the floor, lifeless.
Lydia looked to her Thane whose torso was covered in blood. "You're hurt! Let me see to it."
The mage dropped her hands and nodded as she heaved in pain. She stood quietly for a moment as Lydia ripped cloth to press against her wound. "Help me open... that casket over there ...need to grab an amulet for the girl."
The two headed out to the exit a moment later with Roggvir's amulet in hand. Fighting her blood loss, Nephili leaned against the housecarl. "I think... I need to learn more powerful spells. I’ll not put myself or anyone else at such risk again. I will become strong."
The Nord warrior nodded at her Thane's pronouncement and opened the doors out to Solitude.
* * * *
Comments
I really liked the tone of des... more