A/N: Well, this collection seems to be going over well! I appreciate it, y'all. =D So now we have a one-shot featuring that horrid book, the Mysterium Xarxes. Please tell me I'm not alone in liking the way Martin says the title...

LAURELS: "But it looked so harmless..."

Brynn frowned at the book in her hand, then back at the door to the Lake Arrius Caverns.

“All this,” she murmured, “for a book? Must be more of a book than I’d thought.”

She’d barely made it out of the caverns with her life; those Dagon cultists certainly got bloodthirsty when provoked. And she didn’t have the Amulet of Kings as she’d intended. Instead, she had a book, the Mysterium Xarxes. She had no doubts that it was written by Mehrunes Dagon; that was why she tucked it neatly into her saddlebags, mounted Ebonheart, and started off across the mountains. After a few hours of traversing the almost-forgotten mountain trails in the Jeralls, she found herself on the main road just outside Bruma. The rest of the ride up to Cloud Ruler Temple didn’t take very long; she was more than glad to see the old fortress, for the day was long and she’d collected more than her fair share of bumps, bruises, and sword cuts. Ebonheart trotted up the steps to the courtyard of the temple, snorting when she reached the top. Brynn just slid out of the saddle, handed her horse to the stable boy, and started off for the interior of the Temple. Jauffre met her on the way, and they exchanged a few words; he was upset that the Amulet hadn’t been recovered, and Brynn sympathized with him before she dug out the Xarxes to show him.

“Incredible,” the old Blade murmured, looking it over. “Yes, Martin will want to see this. I believe he’s in the great hall, probably reading again. Do take it to him.”

Brynn nodded and hurried off, holding the book tightly in one hand while she shoved open the door with the other. True to Jauffre’s word, Martin was sequestered at a table in the great hall, surrounded by books. Brynn recognized a few of the titles: The Amulet of Kings, The Trials of St. Alessia, The Book of Daedra, Modern Heretics.

“Someone’s been doing his research,” she called out as she walked in. Martin glanced up and spared a quick smile.

“Well, don’t tell the Blades,” he said, lowering his voice when she approached, “but there’s very little else to do here.”

“I hear you,” Brynn sighed, sliding onto the bench across the table from him.

She paused to collect herself before meeting Martin’s gaze, finding him already studying her. His brows were furrowed as he leaned forward, hands folded on the tabletop.

“You look like you’ve bad news,” he told her. “You... didn’t find the Amulet, did you?”

“No, Martin; I’m sorry,” Brynn replied. “I did everything I could. But I do have this for you.”

She lifted the Xarxes and held it out to him. Martin seemed to recognize it and almost instantly recoiled when he saw it, eyes widening as he pushed it away, startling Brynn.

“By the Nine! Brynn, let go of that! Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!”

Brynn hurled the book onto the table as if it were a venomous snake, promptly rubbing her hands on her greaves.

“It’s just a book!” she cried. Martin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I know it’s ‘just a book,’” he replied tightly. “But this... Do you know what it is?”

“Y—yes, I—”

“Then let me see your hands.”

“Why?”

“Just let me see them!”

Brynn held her hands out, palms up, noticing that she was shaking as she did so. It was then that she realized that she was terrified, not by Martin’s sudden exclamation but by the evil she had somehow neglected to see and understand. Tears welled in her eyes as Martin took her hands in his, studying them, turning them over.

“What’re you looking for?” she managed to choke out. He looked up at her, total seriousness in his eyes.

“Any signs that the book might’ve corrupted you so soon,” he answered somberly. “It is said...” He sighed. “It is said that those who have been affected by the power of the Mysterium Xarxes bear the mark of Dagon on the skin that has contacted the book, even the cover.”

Brynn bit her lip; a tear rolled, unbidden, down her cheek, and she felt like a fool for crying despite the fact that Daedric power tended to be dark power. Swallowing hard, she looked at her hands. There were no marks; they seemed as if they were burned, though. She hadn’t felt them being burned when she had carried the Xarxes. After a moment, Martin sighed, patted her hands and gave them a squeeze, and gently set them down on the table.

“I think you dropped it just in time,” he said. “The burn marks are temporary, though they are the manifestation of the dark power on your body. But look; even now they fade.”

He turned Brynn’s palms upward; she peered closer to see that the burns were fading back into healthy skin, yet she started shaking harder. She had come terribly close to being corrupted by the power in that book.

“You’re a very lucky elf,” Martin told her with a relieved sigh. “I think you escaped by fortune alone.”

He looked up, saw her tears and her tremors, and reached across the table to grab her shoulder.

“Hey, now,” he soothed. “You’re all right. You’re not about to be possessed. You’re safe.”

“I—I know,” she sputtered. “I just—”

“Shh, Brynn. You did right to bring it to me. Just... oh, don’t touch it again. I know ways to protect myself; I’m not sure you do.”

Sighing thinly, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb, using his other hand to squeeze her shoulder. Brynn took a few deep breaths, blinking rapidly and inhaling slowly to try to calm herself. After a moment, she nodded, managing a smile.

“I’m all right,” she said. “I’m all right.”

Yet there was still one thing that bothered her. If she felt this disturbed after a mere encounter with the book, then what would she have felt like had she kept it, fondled it, and actually studied it?