#this arc is heavily inspired by as above so below ngl

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Arc 4: Suffering

815 words

The dust settled gradually, making the stale air of the chamber even harder to breathe. Gethin stayed low, forcing himself to calm down before he faced his next challenge. He wanted nothing more than to find an easy exit from this bizarrely personal hell of a labyrinth, but he knew in the progressively sinking pit of his stomach that it was only going to get worse.

"You've made it further than I thought you would," a thin voice emerged from the darkness ahead, "The Mastermind promised you would be a tough nut to crack. I must admit I'm impressed, Gethin of Valenwood."

Gethin pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to cough.

"Who's there?" he called out, "Show yourself!"

"Very well."

Torches burst to life along the walls of the chamber, revealing it to be far smaller than Gethin could have hoped for, given its occupant. The tall Altmer who stood mere paces from Gethin wore loose, faded scarlet robes, emphasizing his unnaturally emaciated frame. His pale golden hair hung in lifeless strands around his long face. His cheeks were sunken and shadowed, his eyes an unnerving blood red. A chill gripped Gethin's spine as he realized what creature blocked his path to escape.

"Vampire..." he whispered, feeling a tremble enter his hands. He clenched them into tight fists to hide it.

"Indeed I am," the Altmer confirmed, "Quite ancient and skilled in the arcane arts, as you have seen from my welcome party, but fear not. I will not harm you until you have been given time to prepare to meet me in combat."

"I'm assuming this isn't optional," Gethin cautioned, not comforted in the slightest by the vampire's words.

"If you want the piece of the mask I guard, you must take it from me by force. I will give you time to find a suitable weapon, but when that time runs out, if you have not reached the final chamber, I will hunt you down wherever you hide and drain you of every drop of blood you possess. Have I made myself clear?"

Gethin swallowed, a lump of fear lodged in his throat, and an icy sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

"Perfectly," he answered, uncomfortably aware that the vampire could sense his every microexpression of mortal terror, "How much time do I have and what am I looking for?"

The skeletal Altmer gave what could be considered a smile, but its sinister intent was far too palpable.

"I will give you thirty minutes to find your way through the passages behind me, retrieve your weapon, and meet me in the final chamber," he explained, "This is more than enough time if you don't dawdle. You must select a weapon suitable to you - I cannot tell you which is the correct choice for obvious reasons. In the final chamber, you will find the piece of the mask shrouded in ash and blood. I will not restrain myself in guarding it. You will need to kill me if you want to escape."

"Sounds straightforward enough," Gethin commented, "I imagine there's a catch somewhere?"

The vampire glided towards him suddenly, faster than Gethin could blink. He towered over him, his sanguine eyes piercing through his very soul.

"Gethin. Has anything in your life been easy or straightforward? Have you ever been able to trust someone's word at face value? Have you not been betrayed by every person you believed in the most? Consider my task. I shall be waiting at the end."

Gethin froze solid as the vampire lingered, but managed to keep his voice steady.

"I have one more question for you before we begin," he said, "How do you know me?"

The vampire chuckled and reached into his robes, producing a bound lock of wavy, honey blonde hair, which he dangled tauntingly over Gethin's head. Gethin's gut wrenched at the sight of it. He would recognize that hair in any context.

Alaia.

"Aside from the research done on your history, I have been following your group at the request of the Mastermind for some time now," the vampire revealed, his voice somehow even airier than before, "I know you care for them, despite the front you put up. I know you care for Alaia most of all, and I will take great pleasure in tearing her apart should you fail here."

"Keep her name out of your filthy mouth," Gethin growled through gritted teeth, surprising himself with his burst of courage.

"Her name won't be the only part of her in my mouth if you don't hurry."

With that, the vampire vanished into a fine mist, which then swept into the doorway at the far end of the chamber and out of sight. Gethin's heart pounded hard against his ribs, his breaths becoming uneven and strained. He had to survive now, if not for his own sake, for Alaia's.