Into Oblivion

22

Five days had passed in the realms of the darkness. Hope had been locked within a box and hadn't seen light since. The Great Dremora, Broga, trained with his armies for the final encounter against Tamerial. Their blades were sharpened and their armor polished thirsting for nothing more then to be soiled once again by guiltless blood. Elizabeth was kept locked away within the Watch Tower for she could only watch from the revered casement as this war began to unfold for its final chapter. Velthada had sat close to Xilivicus' side as his mortal body healed ever so gradually. His transformation had destroyed many of his muscles and left him frail and worthless; surely if Broga forced him to war he would die there just as many other men would die.

Xilivicus' once vivacious eyes now dulled as he sat like a canary within a steel cage. His only light sources were two small torches at either side of the room which were fastened securely onto the wall. His lips ripped apart as he finally opened his mouth after so many hours. His eyelids barely held open as he succumbed to his weariness. Velthada had given him many potions in order to heal his torn muscles and cure his loss of strength. The Spider narrowed her eyes and beckoned the Churl tenderly. His head turned bit by bit and he looked at her with those frozen dead eyes. She leaned down and pushed a few strands of thick ginger hair from his face as she whispered to him, "... are you ready to walk, my brother?"

He turned his eyes to the ceiling and sighed sincerely. His crackling voice had startled the Spider for he had spoken louder then a whisper, "In two more days... I shall be sprinting across battlefields with nothing but a sword to protect me. There is no need to train me, Velthada; I can no longer escape the inevitable."

"Don't speak like that," she scolded while standing tall upon her legs. "Your future is not written in stone, Xilivicus."

"It may as well be," he purred while turning his head away.

Velthada's silver eyes sparked with annoyance. She glared at the table and slammed her hands down upon it. From her palms came a fiery blast and soon the table was engulfed in flames. The room lit up like the morning sky and Xilivicus had disappeared from the inferno and stood a few feet away in a combating stance. He breathed heavily as he glared at his Daedric sister. Sweat drops rolled down his pale slender torso and glistened in the light of the fire. The Spider smirked and shook her head, "... you can outlive this war, brother. You have the determination and the divine aid to do so!" Her smile faded and a shadow of grief overcame her. "Why must you hide within the shadows of your own sadness?"

"Because what do I have to live for?" He questioned with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. "What do I have to look forward to after this war is complete, hmm? The future I see is grim with a Dremora as a master and a dungeon cell as my home. The will to live is perishing more and more by the day."

"Idiot," Velthada spat.

The firestorm ate away at the surface of the table and all contents upon it as the couple stood in silence with conflicting eyes upon one another. Xilivicus' eyes held disarray and impatience. Velthada's eyes held a hidden hope and bravery. The Spider bore her fangs as she snarled; disbelieving, "... you have nothing to live for?"

In stubbornness, Xilivicus stood tall with a sealed mouth. The Spider raised her arachnid abdomen and lowered her torso as she readied herself for a charge. In a moment's notice, she had leapt forward and scooped the Churl up onto her shoulder. Her spiked feet were blurs as she escaped from the room and crawled frantically down the hall. As she came to a bend in the dungeon pathway she road high up onto the wall and continued with her fast-paced pursuit.

Out into the night she had escaped with the Churl flailing upon her back, pleading for her to free him and let him hide within his chambers where he had been for such a long time. Velthada narrowed her eyes and she promptly approached the grand Watch Tower. Her eyes were not set upon the door; they were set upon the wall. Her once moderate trot set into a hastening gallop as she crawled up the side of the wall to the tower's keep which loomed within the heavens. Xilivicus held tightly upon her neck as he could see the ground disappear below him. His eyes blurred in terror and his voice had fell into his belly and vanished like a flame in winter's grasp.