Various short stories: Falced

  • [This story is about Falced, an imperial.] I wake up with a start. Both me and my sheets are drenched with what I hope is just sweat. My dream had seemed so real, their faces screaming in pain. I think back on my life regretting most of it. All the people I had harmed, their blank, empty eyes staring at me. I get out of bed and walk out side of my small cabin. The shines down on the verdant forest in front of me. I walk until I reach the river. I take long gulps of the water and then sit down. I think once again about my life. A cool breeze blows against my wet skin causing me to shiver violently. I once was an adventurer, raiding caves and ruins for money. But in one ruin I had found more than I bargained for. It was the third era, not long before the Oblivion Crisis. I was exploring some ruins when I heard movement. I grabbed my sword and ran forwards, hoping to catch my adversary by surprise. I stabbed the man in the stomach before he had the chance to react. He slowly looked down at the blade inside him. He walked forwards, pressing the blade deeper and deeper. He was at the hilt now. I looked at him horrified, my hands still clutching the sword. I was frozen in fear. The man grabbed my head and moved to the side revealing my neck and dug his fangs into my flesh. He died whilst drinking. I left immediately, abandoning my sword in the dead man's body. I stayed in bed the following days with a fever. My wife called all the best mages in hopes to heal my illness. Three days later I was fine though, in fact I was better than fine, I felt like I could do anything. My life was fine for a while, I would feed on random travelers that no-one would be able to connect to me and maintained my disguise, I cared not of the fact that I was hurting innocent people and no-one was aware of what I had become. Everything was going perfectly until my wife suggested we go on a holiday. We journeyed to a small hut near Riverwood. I thought I would be able to cope going a few days without feeding, but I was wrong. I enter my bedroom and sit on the bed. I look at Camilla. She was still fast asleep. I look out the window. My wife and had been in Skyrim for a week. I hadn't fed in a week! I kept trying to slip away but she would always catch me and make me stay. The sun's light was starting to get blinding and incredibly hot. My skin was getting paler and I felt it tightening. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had too feed! One night I managed to sneak away from my wife and run into Riverwood. The streets were deserted and all the houses were locked. I started to feel weak. I felt my fangs with my tongue. I was no longer able to hide them. I was going to die if I didn't get some blood soon. Then I got the idea. It was a horrible one that I'm incredibly ashamed of, but in my half crazy condition it looked like the only option. I returned to the hut I was staying in and looked at my wife sleeping peacefully. I bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. I dug my fangs into her neck and drank, tears streaming down my face. I drank until there wasn't a drop of blood left in her body. I spent the rest of the night crying and staring at my wife's corpse from the corner of the room. It was from that day that I changed my ways. I would only feed on dying bandits and other criminals whilst searching for a cure. I found it years later during the fourth era. I was free from the curse, but not from my past. The faces of all those I had ever harmed would stay with me forever. I lie down in bed staring at the ceiling. I can't keep it in any longer I need to tell Camilla about this. She had a right to know. But what if she leaves me? She'll never think of me in the same, that much is sure. But how much will her opinion on me change? Will she somehow be able to forgive me? No! I'm over thinking this. Just breath and calm down. Tomorrow morning I'll tell her, hopefully it won't go too badly...