“Father,” Niyleen said as the two finally stopped in the middle of a road. “Why are we out here again?”
Her father frowned. “Niy dear,” Narndir said sternly. “I’ve already told you.. We’re here to harness and cultivate your innate handling of magic.”

 

Niyleen looked around at the wilderness and there seemed to be nothing special about the place. “But why are we out here?” she asked again with a hint of caution in her voice.

“Are you afraid, Niy?”

 

Niyleen looked around again and there was nothing, not even a rabbit around as far as she could see. “N-no father. But it seems a bit far from camp… And the last time we did magic training—”

 

Narndir sighed. “Don’t worry dear. I wouldn’t have picked this place if it didn’t have meaning.”

“Besides,” he said after patting her head. “Don’t you trust your father?”

 

(You made me eat rabbit hearts telling me it’d would expand my Magicka pool and had me kill my pet wolf pup so I could embrace the darkness… NO I DON’T TRUST YOU!) “Y-yeah father,” she said as she fidgeted with her thumbs. “Of... of course.”

 

Narndir raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Good. Now then, go stand over there Niy, and I’ll cast a spell enhancing rune so we can get started.”

 

“Okay…”

Niyleen went into the grass, found a spot cleared of tall grass, and stood there. “Is this good?

 

Narndir smiled. “Perfect.” He began to chant something under his breath, then suddenly thrust his hand toward Niyleen—who flinched—and a wave of purple magic spiraled around the young Halfling until it finally settled beneath her in the form of a rune. “Excellent,” her father said. “Now we can begin.”

“Niyleen!” Narndir said, causing her to flinch again. “We are about to delve into some extremely powerful dark magics. I need to know that I have your complete cooperation in this endeavor or we may as well stop before we begin.”

 

“Father,” Niyleen said and then she froze. (I’m scared… but I don’t want to disappoint him again…) “I’ll do anything Father. I am ready.”

 

Niyleen noticed a smirk appear on her father’s face for a moment, but disregarded it. “Good girl Niy.”

“You’ve been learning how to fight from your mother correct?”

 

“Yes father.”

 

“What did she tell you was most essential in combat, no, battle?”

 

Niyleen paused to think for a bit before saying, “To be calm, resolute. Fear is the number one cause of loss in battle.”

“She would say that…” Narndir rolled his eyes. “She probably told you to stay away from me and not learn magic.” Niyleen nodded. Narndir sighed. “Fear is not the cause loss battles. The misuse of fear loses battles. All loss is caused by one thing and one thing only, weakness.”

 

“Weakness?” Niyleen said tilting her head slightly.

 

“Yes weakness. Of the heart, the soul. Weakness of the body or the arm. Low Stamina or Magicka. All weaknesses. If one were trying to kill you Niyleen, poison and Frost would be out of the question due to your biology. But cleaving you in two or squeezing the life out of you from your throat would be rather viable options. Hell, even simply firing an arrow between your eyes would work wonders…”

 

“Daddy…”

 

Narndir upturned his nose and suddenly yelled, “NIYLEEN! Charge up both a Frost and Shock spell NOW!” Niyleen stammered for a bit as she tried to say the words so she could cast, which angered her father even more. “VISUALIZE AND CAST! Incantations—though more powerful—waste time and that time could be the difference between life and death.”

 

Niyleen snapped her mouth shut and immediately began trying to cast both spell and miraculously was able to do it on the first try. “Woah… Father, I did it! Did you see it! I got it on the first try!”

Niyleen kept trying to show off her accomplishment, but to no avail. “Concentrate!” He saw that his sudden outburst had rattled Niyleen and a snarl began to show on his face. “You have a weak mind. Your body is tough, and you have immense Stamina and Magicka, but your mind is fragile, easily shaken, and predictable.”

(Did Father say something?) Niyleen was concentrating too hard to hear what her father was saying. (Must not be important.) She continued to channel her magicka into the spells and it was becoming easier and easier to control the magic.

 

“You want too hard to please me girl,” Narndir said in an unnecessarily low voice. “You should have listened to your mother.” He then said in a thunderous voice, “RELEASE!”

 

Suddenly Niyleen’s knees buckled, her hands felt heavy, and her throat tightened. “D-da..d-dy—”

“Keep channeling your Magicka, darling,” Narndir said with a laugh. “Let up in the least bit and, well, you’re dead.”

 

Niyleen clutched at her throat and shivered as cold and electrifying sensations coursed throughout her body at her touch.

 

“Hard to breathe?” Narndir laughed. “This is your weakness child. You want my approval too much. If I were to deny you, your world would shatter as it is right now.”

It was getting harder and harder to breathe and it was taking all Niyleen could to concentrate enough to continue channeling her Magicka. Seeing her weak attempts at survival lit Narndir’s eyes up with amusement. “After all this,” he said. “You still believe that I’ll save you. You should stop channeling those spells. If not, they’ll be your undoing .”

 

(W-what… is.. he…)

 

“That rune you’re on,” Narndir said with a snigger. “Drains your Magicka by itself. When you’re depleted it’ll begin to drain your life force.”

 

Niyleen’s eyes widened as she finally realized that she was going to die.

 

That in itself fueled Narndir’s amusement. “I love it when the weak finally realize their powerlessness. Some still try to fight, some lose the light in their eyes, and others,” he said getting closer to Niyleen. “Others—like you Niy, my precious Niy—I put out of their misery…”

 

“Why…”

Niyleen gasped for air and suddenly found herself shrouded in darkness, being stretched and in unbearable pain from around her ankles and her arms. (Was that a dream? It felt too real… Did my father really—) The pain was an instant reminder of the present. The situation was familiar, and it annoyed her that she was back in such a predicament again. (Shit, I’m… I’m hanging from the ceiling…)

The last time she was in this position, she had lost to a pervert mage and was taken to his lair to be… experimented on. Luckily she got through that without so much as a scratch.

 

“Aha, and so the pretender awakes,” said a familiar voice.

 

(That Hermit…) “Telind?” She said looking around in the dark, literally.

 

“She remembers! SHE REMEMBERS! Oh Mistress, the pretender is useful in more ways than one!” He sounded extremely jovial and it was… off-putting.

 

(Is this really the same Telind from Cidhna?)

“What do you want, false hermit” Niyleen said biting her lip. She knew that her pain would be their pleasure and she wasn’t about to indulge them, whoever they are.

 

“Haha! A rude cunt aren’t you?” Telind said. “Beatings, beatings, and MORE BEATINGS await you. Oh how you’ll screeeeeam…”

“If torture is what you want get it over with,” Niyleen spat. “Your whiny voice is pissing me off.”

 

“You’re no better than a flea, worm,” Telind said lowering his voice. “Heh, I could end you at any moment. Do you not understand your predicament? Do you no REALIZE who is in control right now?”

 

“Not you.”

“YOU BITCH! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL LITERALLY KILL YOU! I’LL BLOW YOU TO BITS! I’LL—”

 

“Please quiet down a little,” said… Niyleen? “I’m trying to read over here.”

 

“Ah, oh, of course. A hundred—thousand—pardons Mistress.”

(Was that me?)

 

“Ah,” Niyleen(?) said. “Also, don’t kill my sister. We still need to have a little chat. And I’d like her NOT to be a thrall when we do.”

 

(That’s ME! I don’t know how, but that’s me speaking!)

Telind sighed. “Yes Mistress Nyleine. Oh what are you looking at you mongrel! You got something to say!?”

 

“I said please did I not?” Even Niyleen could feel the iciness in her tone as she chided Telind.

 

“S-sorry, Mistress…”

 

“…” (Mistress… so whoever has my voice, also has my name and—)

“But still, if even if this is just a pretender, it looks so much like the real deal… Right down to the—”

 

“And no touching,” Nyleine said. “I don’t want to hear about any of your conquests of my… sister.”

 

“I-I wouldn’t DREAM of touching her, I was just saying that you two are so… similar…”

“Too similar…”

 

(If he’s telling the truth, then he’s right: we ARE too similar. But I’m not like Carciel or Lucari. I’m a single child. No siblings, no sister.) Niyleen sucked her teeth. “So what, are you just going to leave me hanging?”

 

“Oh there’ll be plenty of time for you, pretender. When we’re done with you, you’ll have rather the entirety of Markarth had passed you around like a dirty rag than have endured what we have in-store. Ehehe… Ahahahahahahaa!”

 

(Keep calm Niyleen. Remember your training… Don’t give into fear… Don’t give into the pain…)