Nobody Important
Chapter Thirty: Following A Lead
In which a conversation conveniently concludes concerns.
By: N3k0
Lyssi felt the wood between her fingers splinter and crack, shards of the barrel embedding themselves into her right hand and drawing blood.
No.
If she kept denying it, her eyes squeezed tightly, maybe it wouldn't be true.
She opened them again. The package remained. She let go of the edge of the barrel, reaching down into it to pick up the oddly-light parcel.
She sat heavily on the decorative ledge that surrounded the base of the statue, stripping the paper from the box with her teeth. Empty. It was empty, except the letter, a hollow congratulations and another target. Did the traitor mean to kill every last Dark Brother and Sister in all Cyrodiil? It seemed so - the note mentioned a woman named Arquen.
Numb.
She was numb, all over, and so, so tired. This was it then.
She hadn't even gotten paid.
Lucien would be killed. Hells, but she wouldn't be far behind. Too many people wanted her dead, and she didn't really care if they succeeded anymore.
Her eyes felt a bit wet, and red clouded her vision.
She was just so tired.
A man's quiet voice brought her attention back to the present.
"You're looking for Enilroth, aren't you?"
Lyssi looked up and over, her eyes settling on the old Dunmer. She nodded once. Enilroth?
The old Dunmer smiled gently at her. "He's been coming around this statue for a couple of days now, acting guilty. I thought he'd gotten caught up in something ... well, nevermind. I certainly hadn't expected the boy to ... ah, Nine help me. I didn't think he liked girls, you understand."
She nodded once, reaching up to rub at her eyes. Blood?
She was crying?
"Ah, here now, don't cry." She ducked her head, letting her hair cover her face as she wiped at her eyes. She couldn't let him see the dark crimson smear. "If you like, I can fetch him for you ... oh, where are my manners. I'm Enilroth's master, Varel Morvayn. I am the smith here in town." The dark elf sat beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder. The absurdity of it was almost enough to make her laugh.
Lyssi wiped her hands off on the dress, thankful she'd stolen a red outfit. She smiled up at the man, uncertainly.
"Shy then? I don't bite, I promise. Say - I haven't seen you around Anvil before, are you new in town?" She nodded once, gesturing vaguely at her throat. "Ah, I see."
She looked either way, feeling slightly guilty. She thought she might have just enough power ... it felt wrong. The smith was being so nice to her ... She reached up, uncertainly, then retracted her hand, shaking her head. No, she wouldn't make him tell her.
He gave her a long, odd stare, before speaking again. "Look, you seem like a good kid, and I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here. If you like, you can stay at my shop for the night, all right?" He forced a smile, and she relaxed some, smiling back. "There's a good girl." He stood, holding his hand out to her. She took it, following suit.
There was an odd roaring in her ears as she stood up, and her vision grayed out around the edges. She didn't remember anything after that.
She woke to a strange bed, in a strange room, feeling as though her skin were on fire. She opened her mouth in a silent cry of pain, covering her face with a thin blanket to protect it. A voice she didn't recognize greeted her. "I didn't know what you would want for breakfast so I brought you some - hello? Are you all right?"
She drew the blanket up, holding it like a makeshift cloak, the corner dangling in her face. Her skin felt tight where the sunlight had fallen on it, and she peered out from under the blanket at the other Bosmer. He looked young, barely out of boyhood himself.
Her eyes caught his, and his eyes went wide. The tray of food fell to the ground with a loud crash, and he scrambled out of the room, screaming incoherently. "Monster! Monster! Varel! Come quickly! Monster! There's a monster in the bedroom!"
She rubbed at her face, trying to return feeling to it.
There was some juice, and some bread and meat on the floor, so, after wrapping the blanket about herself properly, she stood and looked around. Apparently the smith had made her a bedroll at the base of his bed, raising a question or two in her mind of where the apprentice slept. Probably he stayed at the inn or something.
Oh, hellfire. The apprentice was the boy Enilroth, and she had to try and talk to him, didn't she?
Lyssi spotted her backpack in the corner of the room, the torn package sitting neatly beside it. She collected the package with deft fingers, careful to let no errant beam of sunlight near her skin. Then, she picked her way across the floor, careful not to step on any broken ceramics or now-soggy bread. Hopefully the apprentice didn't expect her to clean ... oh, who was she kidding, he was probably breaking out the torches pitchforks as she worked her way stiffly down the hall. Cleanup was the least of her worries.
"That is a woman, not a monster, and our guest besides. Be polite." The smith's voice came from downstairs.
Enilroth sounded a bit out of breath. "But Master - she ... she's a ... "
The old man seemed ... calm, she decided. "A vampire?" He laughed a bit. "My dear boy, the girl is a bit pale, that's it. Vampires aren't real, and whoever told you otherwise is filling your head with lies. Now, you go back up there, and apologize. I have to watch the shop."
"But Master - she ... her eyes, and ... and she ..."
Lyssi stood at the top of the stairs now, and she could see the balding Dunmer smith shake his head. "If you're that concerned about some red eyes, you must be just terrified of me. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the girl was a halfbreed, but a vampire? Ridiculous. Go talk to her. You'll see she's perfectly normal, if a bit malnourished."
"Yes Master."
The boy trudged up the stairs, looking apprehensive, and she wished she didn't have a good reason for him to be so.
I'm sorry.
She reached out and grabbed his arm.
His scream died before it ever reached his lips.
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