Chapter 9

Saber woke sometime during the night, thirsty and disoriented. His first thought was he was back in prison, sleeping on the cold slab of unforgiving stone in a dark cell offering little in the way of comforts. The second thought faded into a memory of his childhood, having been forced to sleep in a dark closet with barely room to stretch his legs. Not that he wanted to now. Movement in the attempt of sitting up reminded him of his wounded leg, shooting jolts of pain that made him want to pass out again.

"I've seen you in better health." A voice growled in the darkness.

Startled, the Dunmer jerked to full alertness, and immediately regretted the sudden movement. He nearly fell back from the agony that wracked his lower exterminates. The voice could be only one person…no, thing…a monster that haunted his dreams since childhood. The broken voice was too unique to be anyone else.

"Nekros.." Fear nearly choked him, warring against the sense of helplessness. There would be nothing he could do if his old master decided to mete out retribution now. The ragged voice was caused by a young elf's dagger. He had been a child then, desperate to end his master's life before he killed everything he'd come to know as friends. He hadn't known Nekros was already one of the undead. Saber's vision had adjusted to the darkness of the cave, only a lantern to offer any light at all.

The vampire half-crouched a few feet from him, having been watching him for God only knows how long. The bright hue of inhuman eyes glowed back, unmoved at his predicament. He hadn't bothered with the usual illusion of being human. Saber wondered if this was to frighten him, or merely because they both knew what manner of creature he was.

"What are you doing here?" Saber croaked, feeling nauseas and lightheaded from the pain and fear. He hoped the latter was hidden behind a pretense of bravery.

A soft chuckle echoed in the cave. The sound was grating, almost like a cough. "Have you so quickly forgotten?" The vampire replied, shifting so he sat just out of arm's reach. "Our bond?"

Ah yes, the bond. Ever since that time beneath Kogoruhn, when Nekros had hoped to transform him to a vampire, Saber had sensed another more profound change in himself, as if something dark and sinister had entered his soul. He frowned. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

A light shrug of shoulders was dismissive. "What can I say? Curiosity got the best of me when I sensed your pain." A crooked smile twisted his lips, revealing his fangs when he spoke. "I had to see for myself how the Nerevarine will get out of this little mess he's gotten himself into."

A number of insults came to mind, but Saber simply didn't have the energy to say them. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, hoping the room would stop spinning.

"You don't look well." Nekros commented at the obvious. His head tilted, the undead gaze scrutinizing. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"I just need rest…" Saber told him, hoping he'd take the hint and leave. More importantly, he hoped the vampire wouldn't kill him. Saber swallowed against a dry throat. He was thirsty, likely from the blood loss, but his stomach rebelled against any thought of drinking anything.

An uneasy silence filled the short distance between them before the vampire gave a dramatic sigh. "So, you're not going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"Why I spared your life after our last meeting."

This time, Saber frowned. He had been curious at the time, but felt likely Nekros' presumed moment of morality shaded something akin to self preservation. Nekros knew he was the Nerevarine from reading his journal, knew why he'd been brought to Morrowind. The threat of Dagoth Ur reached everyone, apparently even vampires.

"I can guess why." Saber told him in a droll tone.

Brows arched. "You think you know my thoughts now?"

Presumably, Saber felt the bond would allow such insight. Oddly he only had his own assumptions. "I'm a bit indisposed at the moment." He muttered with a grimace. "So I can honestly say I don't really care why you 'spared my life'."

The vampire looked away a moment, his face a mask of stone. Nekros had excelled at hiding what he was thinking. When he looked back, the bemused expression was back in place. "Your doubts of my intentions are a bit disturbing, but nevertheless…" He tossed something at him, a small bottle that glittered in the fire glow of the lantern. "Here's something else to ponder on."

Saber knew what it was by the seal, recognizing a glyph of healing. It wasn't just a homemade brew, but an expensive potion that promised to set him completely right again.

Hope of actually surviving this ordeal flared quickly, only to be stifled by stubborn resentment to the vampire offering his help.

"Poison?" He asked. The comment was to remind his former master of he remembered the 'lessons' he endured as a child. Sipping poisons to build resistances were to teach the would-be assassin the effects of each type of toxin. Many were painful lessons, leaving him sick and hurting. If not for taking a substance called Shadowbane, to help build resistances, Saber felt he may have died a number of times. The same substance also left him sterile, leaving him to never have a family of his own. One more reason to hate Nekros.

Nekros's eyes narrowed, and chin lifted slightly at the barb. "Perhaps it can heal your old wounds." After another moment of obstinate silence, he gave a light-hearted shrug. "Either case….I will leave you to your troubles. Dawn is approaching. You may not wish to sit still for very long. I understand the City Ordinators are looking for a particular heretic. I wonder if there is a reward…"

A low chuckle hinted at his considerations of retrieving such a reward, and echoed in the cave long after he left. Of course, he wouldn't dare enter the city so close to the dawn, or confront Ordinators who readily hate vampires.

Saber glared at the bottle. "I really hate him."

The potion, however, completely revived and healed his wounds. Minutes after gulping the contents, the Dunmer refitted his gear to head to Balmora.

Eiryn resettled her pack across her shoulders as she gathered the remaining supplies. The sun had barely risen when she headed out to prepare for her trip back to the city of Vivec. Arathor, who had bumped into her at the mages' guild the night before. He surprised her by showing up at dawn to see if she still intended on going.

"And what am I supposed to tell Saber should he arrive today?" He dogged her with questions.

The young Breton shot a dark look. "I don't have time for this, Arathor!"

"Don't spit your venom at me." He shot back. "Save it for the elf who deserves your anger. I'm trying to the be the voice of reason here."

"Not with that voice, you aren't." She muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." She nudged him out of the way to stuff extra healing scrolls in her belt. "I only plan on going to Vivec, see if I hear of any rumors and I'll come back straight away. I won't be gone long."

Dark eyes rolled dramatically. "Oh sure you will. Why do you suddenly sound like Saber, eh? Isn't that his line?" A dark glare directly at him decided him to change tactics. "Besides, isn't Saber heading the Blades' guild here? Doesn't that mean you have to follow his orders? He told you to stay here."

She finished, taking her staff with her. "Actually he told me to go to Balmora, which I did. I'm here, right? Now I'm going back."

Arathor sighed heavily. "Eiryn, we both know how Saber is going to feel when he comes here and finds you've gone back, quite possibly into danger." When she turned to leave, he grasped her arm, tugging her attention back to him. "He's going to take his anger out on me!"

She knew Saber would never hurt a friend of his, and Arathor's tactic for sympathy fell on deaf ears. "Tell him he can wait for me for a change." She turned towards the door, yanking it open before the wood elf could argue further.

Before Arathor could respond, she looked up to find the very Dunmer in question standing in the doorway. His hand had paused midair to the door latch as if preparing to open the door. By his jerk of surprise, he hadn't expected anyone to be there let alone find her ready to leave.

Relief shook her to her core. He's alive!

A light squeak of surprise escaped her, deflating into a gasp. Eiryn grabbed him in a fierce hug. "You're back!" Her voice was muffled against his chest.

Arms gathered around her, warm and familiar. His chest rumbled a laugh. "Now Eiryn," His voice murmured in a chiding tone, "Please tell me you were not coming back to rescue me..."

Unable to muster anger, she answered. "As long as you don't tell me that you'd do the very same if you were me."

Unbeknown to the young scout, Arathor stood behind her, nodding vigorously, mouthing words "I tried to stop her!"

Saber pressed lips to stifle his laugh. "I'm fine, so no harm done."

The Bosmer thief moved to leave. He paused while shutting the door. "Best consider a new hideout. The Temple will come looking for you." He realized neither paid any attention to him. "I'll leave you heretics alone then, to do...whatever it is heretics do."

Eiryn waved him out to hurry his departure, turning to Saber with a scowl. She pointed a stern finger in his face. "Don't you ever tell me to leave you like that again!"

Unaffected by her anger, the elf gently grasped her hand to hold against his heart. He leaned forward to brush lips against her pout. "We both know this will happen again; its our nature. Besides, we need to be discussing where we go now, not fighting. I have two more Houses to convince I'm the best choice for their Champion. Where do we suggest we go next?"

Lips still so close to her own, Eiryn grinned mischievously. "I have a better idea what we can do..."

Whatever his retort was lost in a passionate kiss. Time enough for hero stuff later, he mused to himself. Discussion on saving the world could wait for a time.

NOTE: This ends this chronicle of House Hlaalu. I'll be starting the next chronicle soon.