Skyrim The Only Cure Novels & Stories

He was to remain in the bathtub for an hour. Lavana was seated on a wooden stool beside the bath, singing a comforting siren melody to him. Doctor Alstein fed Phoenix three white pills and then left the bathroom to rest on the couch in the chamber. This illness was from a dark wiz bloods curse. It was rare and in the past, it had no cure. But his late teacher found the cure and he, being the successor, was taught the cure. He never thought he’d see a live victim one day. …

"I'm sorry you had to go through so much pain." The wolf slumped onto my thigh, crushing my bones, and then shifted. Zephyros lay naked, and I took off my coat and covered him with my old coat. He looked rough and exhausted. "You, Seliora, are the cure to my madness." He groaned in a low voice.

A crooked grin spread across his face, and Slate said, “Command the magic, Nya. Feel it.” Nya closed her eyes, wondering why she hadn’t seen this scene ever before, and put her hand over the wound. “Heart of Magic,” she whispered, “I command you to heal this wound. Heal this man, and make him whole again.” Immediately, she felt the power pulsing through her, stronger now than it ever had before. It flowed from her fingers into Slate’s chest, and he closed his eyes as a warmth embraced both of them, a circling breeze like the hottest of summer days engulfing them and sweeping them up into the air. Nya opened her eyes for a second to see a warm, red light spinning around them before they were

Darius asked as if he hadn't heard his friends question, “Why do you need to go to Silverlake for the cure?” Adolf repeated his question. “Because that is where it all began. King Barroc gave me the weapon that I used in stabbing Emelda and so he is the one who is to give me a cure to save her,” Darius replied. “WHAT?” Adolf yelled, But Darius was too lost in his thoughts to get upset or to even notice Adolf’s tone of voice. “He gave me the weapon and now I need him to give me the cure,” Darius repeated.

Saraphina's POV Three months later, my and Liam’s burns were mostly healed. Thanks to the rare medicines provided by the "Shadow Claws," our bodies were slowly getting stronger. In the sunlight, the burn scars on Liam’s face had faded a lot. I gently ruffled his hair, so thankful that the thrilling "Moon God's Slumber" plan had gone off without a hitch. Damian and Isolde had been completely fooled. Even better, I’d unexpectedly met a master healer from an ancient Druid line.

It wasn’t anything new, it was nothing that Sinclair hadn’t told me about so why exactly was the warning for? The more I read through every page, the more I realized how dangerous my blood was to these people. I could literally end a whole bloodline if I wanted to. Sinclair’s father hadn’t been able to resist the curse, he had died taking an overdose of the very thing his son craved for which was laughable because this was what Sinclair literally begged for anytime he needed a fix. “And the only way he can be free from this curse is by true love, sacrificing himself is the only way the curse can be broken.” I read.

My hands shook in the freezing wind. I looked at the back of the map. There was a list of ingredients. Wolfsbane. Silver dust. Alpha blood. And a message. The Cure. If he survives the purge. I stared at the paper. Vane knew. He knew how to fix it. Or kill it. I needed silver. I needed wolfsbane. I looked at the mountains around me. Wolfsbane grew wild here. It was a purple flower that bloomed even in the snow. And silver?

I said as we stopped a few steps away from Damien. “Can you give us a moment alone?” Damien asked without hesitation. Almira looked at me once, then walked toward the eastern side of the camp. Damien turned back to me. “How can we have order if everyone starts doing whatever they want?” “You would not think like that if you knew what I found out,” I said, unable to hide the excitement in my voice. He stayed silent, watching me closely. “I’m listening,” he said. “There is a cure. And I can also walk in the spirit lands and—”

One of the Seers moved without hesitation, slipping off her robe and crossing the distance to him, offering it out. He limped forward, one hand gripping his shoulder, his face pulling tight with pain. Jace took the robe with a quiet thanks, dragging it around himself without ceremony. Kaelani looked up at him, desperation written across her face. “How?” she demanded. “How do we reverse it?” Jace’s eyes flicked to Julian, then back to her. “With Wyrmwell potion,” he said. “It reversed my mark. Stopped it right in its tracks.” “Where do we get it?” she pressed. “Tell me—and I’ll take us there right now.”

"Tell me what to do." Morwen's hands trembled. "The sickness has progressed. Your blood can slow it, but it cannot cure it anymore." Seraphina's face lost color. "Then what can?" Morwen looked toward Caelan, then toward Lyssandra, and finally toward the horizon. Beyond Blackthorn. Beyond the Dragon Peaks. Toward lands forgotten by history. "There is only one cure." Silence. "What is it?" Killian demanded. Morwen whispered. "The Heartspring."