Good evening, ladies and lords, marquis and marchioness, baron and baroness, count and countess, their vassals, honored guests and members of the house, and of course the never still servants for without them our occasion in this special evening would not exist. We must express our gratitude for this once in a lifetime chance to deliver our stories and songs in front of venerable hosts. Now we remember telling most of you in your private holds the story of Dragon born and her trials against Alduin, how she fell from Akatosh' claim into Molag Bal's realm. Milord personally requested that we ought to continue such story…
To you, milord and lady, t'is story would be nothing but a tale to invigorate thine imagination. Yet to us, this tale is our reality. Therefore we must ask before we proceed, would you know the truth? We must be honest and tell milord and lady this story does not end well, not be the same as the bedtime stories where princesses would be reunited with their beloved, princes saving their betrothed from beasts and dragons, not even peasant woman married a man they fancy. Alas the truth is far from such luxury, milord and lady. We do not wish to smear your dream with harsh reality. Pray tell, would you still know the truth then?
Ah…woe, woe to us all. In thine ignorance thou hath chosen truth. Very well, this feeble troubadour shall sing in praise of the Dragon born…nay, the Vampire Lord and the Knight . The battle between children of day and night. An epic song depicting the last battle between them. Clashes of heart and steel. Vows made on a whim. Now, behold! T'is is the truth milord and lady yearned so much for!
The grand gate leading to Volkihar's hall had opened then, letting in the freezing snowstorm raging outside the warm and dimly lit hall. One haggard looking man came through the gate, his graying hair reflected orange hue coming from the torches. His equally gray orbs gleaming and fire burned in his eyes and war tattoo covered around the orbs, much like his younger version decades ago when he was but a whelp in the halls of Jorrvaskr. Skyforge steel made quite a noise meeting the stony floor, yet the man was confident still as he was not planning on sneaking but meeting his adversaries head on as he did and as he would always. The man walked the stony floor and met a small balcony overlooking the great hall of the vampires.
He was not surprised when he saw none of the occupant, for he knew their leader had hidden them somewhere out of his reach. He knew by heart who their lord…or rather lady was and he was sure the eternal girl would not let them fighting a losing war. The Harbinger had heard stories of those surviving ordeals offered in Volkihar halls. Bloodied stony hall, cannibalistic creatures feasting on human raw flesh and organs, endless carnal feasts, and endless blood letting. But what he saw was not represented in the halls for it was neat and properly taken care of. He realized then that the man was half delirious. Then he saw the vampire lord sitting on a crimson throne by the end of the hall. Behind a long table where she would enjoy the feast. The other long tables at the hall's left and right was properly decorated with golden chalice and plate, decaying flowers put between the plates, under it was equally golden bowls where he noticed some bone and marrow for the hounds to feast from. The forementioned hounds strolled around behind her throne.
"Hail, Companion. To what honor this visit granted?" the eternal girl raised from her seat, putting the book she had been reading on the long table in front of her. Her hounds restlessly circled her and she caressed them in gentle manner, a gesture the Harbinger thought was impossible of her then. She observed her visitor. Only high ranked member of the Companions, Skyrim equal of Warrior Guild, were allowed to wear wolf armor. The armor itself had changes in design. They used to wear bandage instead of chain mails beneath the armor. But then, the Companion seeking audience in front of her wore it underneath, covering most of his body and had collar circling the once neck revealing armor. To avoid vampire bites, the girl mused. She would not be sure her fangs could breach through fine steel.
The grayed man climbed down the stony ladder as the vampire lord circled around the royal long table and both stood facing against each other right in the middle of the hall. Neither had their weapon unsheathed. The hounds barked yet did nothing to attack the Harbinger. They both knew the man wearing wolf armor was beyond them. Rarely the death hounds felt fear in their blood, that one occasion was one of the exceptions. "Do forgive their manner, they have been restless as of late, honored guest"
By the Divines, she looked the same like when she left us years ago, the Harbinger thought. Her manes were still wheat golden with streaks of silver showing her actual age or distress, her visage was still as pale as it could, and the lips…though crimson blood but the shape he yearned to kiss was still the same, it curved forming a sincere smile. There had been no fear in her once emerald eyes. If there were anything, it was neither anger nor sadness but sheer happiness. The only thing that changed was she wearing vampire royal armor revealing her cleavage. The fire had died long ago from within the Harbinger, when the vampire girl had left him two punctured holes in his neck. The physical scar had gone yet the one carved in his heart was still open, gushing out blood if it was possible. He grieved not for the betrayal but rather the fate brought them to that day. He'd do his final task as a Harbinger fulfilling a promise he had made decades ago, a promise made on a youth whim when the two spent their midnights reading in the warm halls of Jorrvaskr.
"I hope you're not learning Necromancy, girl. Else I'll have to cut you down for it"
"Of course, I'll let you know first hand when I do"
She did let him know in the winter morning when she left him. Tears felled from her once emerald orbs and touched his cheeks as she confessed to the man pretending to be asleep that she had broken her promise not to learn necromancy and she had joined the ranks of the vampires. She was pained. The pain he intended to liberate her from. The Harbinger sometimes envy his brother's ignorance for he lived a full and contented life. Despite that he willingly chose the hard path leading to the final battle against his own beloved. She stood before him bearing the same appearance but wearied soul beneath her sweet façade. He could see what years had done to her. The grey orbed man could stand it no longer, he unsheathed his Skyforge steel great sword and pointed it against the girl's neck. He could lift the great sword one hand despite its' weight, years of training had its advantages. He had prepared well for the fateful day and hoped it was enough. He prayed to the Divines that they would grant him iron will and strength to carry out his task.
The vampire lord could feel the cold on her pale skin. The girl moved forward slightly and the point cut into her neck, letting the crimson life fluid out. Her face was the vision of confidence itself. The harbinger pulled his great sword in surprise. The girl casually wiped the blood with her thumb and licked her blood smeared on it. The wound closed in inhumanly possible. Flesh regenerate , veins reconnected, leaving no scar on the pale skin as if nothing had happened to it.
The girl sighed, "Does the years wear you down, Harbinger? You used to be more talkative and snobbish at that. Here I was hoping for a good debate. I even prepared some topics to choose from". The girl reached for the book she read before and threw it to her guest which he repelled with his gauntleted hand. An action of reflex instead of repulsion. "Not much of a bookish man anymore, eh? I'm hurt. Still, even in your twilight year you still look as handsome as it could possibly be. Then again…I must be blind". She was still a tease, the Harbinger thought. It brought him good humor and he was forced to smile despite the situation they were in.
He would play along in her game. He reached for the book he repelled seconds ago and took a quick look at the title, "Necromancy: Taboo or Development. I'd choose another topic if I were you. What about 'The Talos Mistake' instead? Pfft…neither of these topics would be of interest to both of us. If not take the whole night to tear our ears off". The grey maned man put the book on the long table beside him. The girl leaned on her side of long table, absent mindedly caressing her hounds. Once, he had hoped they would be able to live together, with a son and a daughter and perhaps a dog as house pet. Were they not thrown into such predicament they would be in Breezehome enjoying their twilight years instead of pointing steel at each other in Castle Volkihar.
"We can't afford a whole night's dance" the girl wearing ebony clothing crouched and let her hounds nuzzled against her. The pair knew it would be the last they could feel her presence. Despite the longer years the two spent with their previous lord, they fancied the young vampire lord better. Finally the girl patted their heads and the onyxian hounds ran off. The seemed to be melding into the shadows. She stood up and faced her adversary, knowing their last dance would be a deadly one. Violet hue formed around her hands.
"Ah, but we could have a song, no?" the Harbinger suggested. A song they could afford. The time remaining for the both of them to be together before one of them should pass from Nirn. For a second the two thought they were behind Jorrvaskr as a rush of déjà vu planted an image of the young version of them sparring in the backyard of Companion headquarters. The older man took out a septim from his coin pouch and threw it into the air. Imaginary bard started strumming his lute in one shadowy corner.
As the coin fell onto the stony floor and even before the echoes could be heard throughout the halls, clashes of steel covered the whole room. The harbinger swung his great sword whilst the vampire lord parried it with her twin swords she conjured out of nowhere. Purplish hue reflected on Skyforge steel when the blades meet. Fiery sparks and violet fire spew out from where the blades met. Shadows dancing on the stony walls and floor.
"I can't believe you come here on your own, Harbinger!"
"Believe me, they are outside waiting for you. They will be ready to plant steel into your corrupted flesh". She knew he was bluffing. She knew the man she loved so would come alone into her territory. A snob he was and always be one. "…and I can't believe you waited for me alone, where are your vassals?"
"Somewhere you cannot reach. In a century or so they will rise again, with or without me". The Harbinger knew she told him the truth. The vampire lord had sent her vassals into Soul Cairn and told them not to emerge before a century had passed, not before the people had forgotten about the ancient vampire clan. Serana parted with her unwilingly but she obeyed her words, for she would be the one leading the Volkihar vampire when they return to Nirn. Even before the separation, the vampire lord had done another pilgrimage to Forgotten Vale to hide Auriel's Bow as no mortal should get a hold of it. The temple was in ruins from the lack of care. She took it as the last snow elf's failure in turning his brethren back into light.
"How's the old man?" the girl referred to Kodlak White-mane, whom she cared for like she did to her own dead father, as the two exchanged blows which was getting stronger the longer they engaged in the fight. They crossed swords, parried each other's strike, keeping distance and closing distance. Should another soul witnessed their fight, one could see they fought like they were dancing. Nay both of them were dancing a dance of death. They moved as graceful as northern fighting stance allowed them.
A true daughter of Nord, the Harbinger thought. "He's gone to Sovngarde for decades, in case you lost track of time"
"A better place to be than anywhere on Nirn. He managed to be rid of lycanthropy I take it?" The young vampire lord parried the great sword and used her enemy's strength to alter the great sword's swing. The Harbinger knocked back by the sudden movement, as if the girl herself swung his sword. She proceeded and thrust her violet sword towards his collared neck. Made of steel it might be, magical force could breach through it better than claws and fangs. To her surprise her sword met air instead of flesh as her reach was not long enough. She stepped back a few times before the old man could bash his elbow into her head.
"With your help he did" the elder wolf chased after the girl and swung his great sword trying to cut her in half. He grinned remembering the girl used to call his un-enchanted swords 'butter knife'. The vampire lord was faster than most human. The story about their supernatural reflexes was not exaggerated as the Harbinger had a hard time keeping the pace between them. Then again the fallen Dragon born was an agile one to begin with. Her stamina should run out soon, he cursed.
"Oh how did you know?" asked the girl as she jumped onto the long table on the northern side of the main hall, turning gracefully on one leg and jumped onto her throne and used the impact to leap towards the balcony overlooking the whole hall. The same balcony Lord Harkon made his speeches decades ago, promising fortuitous life to those pledging their lives to him. It was the greatest irony that his trusted vassal would turn on him and planted Sunhallowed arrow into his heart, instantly turning into ashes as the power of the sun itself rejected the ancient vampire's presence on Nirn. She turned and saw her adversary awed by her prowess. Though such power came to her against her wish. She allowed herself to be smug for that one time. Leaning against the balcony, she smiled at her once traveling companion.
A vision of beauty. The elder wolf remembered he had read about such story somewhere. A story of a princess waiting for her lover to come, singing to her under her balcony. The story had ended well. His would not finish the same manner, unfortunately. "I know"
"Blasted wolf. I could never win" She pouted. She pouted, the elder wolf mused, holding off a smirk he used to let out whenever the girl was irritated at him. His visage betrayed him though as his lips curved forming a smile the vampire lord knew well. She was recuperating from their recent exchange that drained her stamina off. Sustaining magic for her bound weapon was also taxing. The girl regretted not practicing often post vampire turning and she remembered the wolf often reprimanded her for having weak stamina.
"You'll see him soon enough" Vilkas said as he climbed up the stairs leading to the balcony. He was ready whenever the girl would Shout at him. White breath formed in front of the girl and she breathed fast, revealing her stamina was running low. Whilst her adversary's breathing was still normal as if their fight was nothing to him. The Harbinger knew they were natural enemies on battlefield.
"Ha! There is no Sovngarde waiting for me!" cried the girl. She Shouted, air crippling in front of her and formed shockwaves. The gray maned man blocked it with his great sword and found the girl missing when the shockwave subsided. He ran towards the balcony and found the girl running into a corridor on the east side of the hall. He followed the girl and found himself in the dungeons. The pen the vampires had used to keep their cattle and thralls in, waiting to be devoured whole. He saw no trace of the girl and finally saw a trap door by the end of the dungeon. Vilkas figured it was the dumping area after the victims had no more of use. He also thought that the half crazed witness of Volkihar's cannibalism escaped in such manner. How he reached civilization left for the imagination.
He jumped in the opened trap door and found himself falling into human bones. The victims' bones. In a great number and piled as if they were midden of clams found by the shore. How many victims those vampires had taken, how many abducted against their will, questions formed and left unanswered. The Harbinger could not bring himself thinking his old lover devouring human flesh as if it was nothing. Before he could recover from the shock a figure launched a fireball towards him. He rolled on the bones, avoiding the fiery hell. Her magical power grew stronger by the year in the least, the man thought. He then followed the slim figure towards the sewage system of the castle. She was nowhere to be seen as well. The girl might be hiding behind the pillars.
Then he screamed as shadowy canine teeth digging into his shoulder and leg. The hounds. It did not run but prepared themselves for an ambush. Was the girl so desperate that she would rely on such cowardly tactics? To his surprise the girl emerged from her hiding place and looked as surprised as the Harbinger was. "CuSith! Garmr! No! This is not your fight! Obey!" The hounds refused to obey. Not because of the vampire lord's lack of authority but rather out of the hounds' twisted loyalty.
Seeing that the two would never relent, the elder wolf used his last resort. His flesh and muscle grew dark and fur grew fast on his skins and soon covered him whole. His mouth formed into canine grin and teeth turned to fangs. Claws grabbing one of the black hounds biting into his furred shoulder and threw it into the stone wall. It's dead from the sheer impact. The other one was pulled from the werewolf's flesh and the black wolf torn it into two. Black blood gushed out. When he had finished dealing with the hounds, he turned his attention at the girl trembling on the other side of the sewer. Beastly rage fired up within his soul. Instead of stopping the fallen dragon born, the turned Harbinger was filled with the urge to rip her apart.
"Oh, by Talos, this ain't fair" her voice faltered. She remembered the first time the younger twin transformed into werewolf in front of her eyes. They were surrounded by the Silver Hand during her trial to enter the Companions. Farkas acted as her shield-brother and judged her worthiness. The younger wolf was about to find another lever to save the dragon born from a trap when the Silver Hands intervened. He turned into his other form without hesitation. Such transformation was still scary no matter how many times she had witnessed the Circle perform it. She would not transform into her other ugly form, not in front of her beloved…and she would never forget the blood thirst sensation she felt during her own transformations. Degrading.
The girl was not prepared when the black werewolf suddenly charged towards her, running on four. The Harbinger's other form gave him unnatural speed and strength. On the last seconds before the impact the girl jumped to the sides and watched her adversary crashed against the stone wall. The sewer trembled under such force. The girl was shocked and it took her seconds before she could remember she should be fighting for she saw the hungry orbs right in front of her. Sharp fangs snarled at her seconds before the impact and the roar unnerved her. An equally angered grunt by the cracked walls returned the vampire world back into reality. Before the turned man could recover, the girl formed lightning bolt between her hands and launched it towards him. In seconds the wolf was paralyzed and the girl scrambled on her feet. She used the time to run. She knew there were limitations to werewolves transformation and she would have to buy time until the wolf form worn off.
Running towards the garden, the vampire lord stumbled on the moondial where both her and Serana managed to solve Valerica's puzzle and gained the access to the ruined tower. During her reign, the vampire lord repaired most of the castle and returned the glory. It was a shame that her rule was not long enough for her to enjoy the fruit of her labor. Serana's mother had replanted the weed and wild plants in the garden and it had become as beautiful as it was before Harkon went mad. But the turns of events must lead the castle to be abandoned again. The young vampire lord had no time for reminiscing as the werewolf was behind her, crushing the wooden door leading to the undercroft. She managed to evade in time although the black wolf landed a strike on her right arm. Her sleeve shredded into pieces, revealing three bloodied wounds across the arm. Cursing why she had not learnt undead healing spells, the girl stumbled into the tower leading to Soul Cairn's entrance, evading claws and fangs. She launched a fire ball with her spell arm before she opened the tower's entrance. It hit the wolf in the middle and burned the fur wildly.
Inside, she barred the door despite knowing it would be knocked down as easy as twisting a twig. The blonde vampire muttered incorrigible language as the skeletons around her mustered from their death slumber and shambled into life. Her long practice of necromancy allowed her control of multiple corpses. Vilkas would never like this, the girl thought in dismay. There were more bones than what she had prepared on her own. Her loyal Garan Marethi must be the one responsible for it. She allowed herself a smile, being thankful to her loyal vassal. She ran to upper floors where she witnessed her pursuer charged in through the barred door and made a quick work of her risen army. The skeletons fell onto the stone floor and thrown into the walls like crimson leaves of fall blown by the wind.
The wolf stared at his prey, trembling on the stone stair leading to the tower's upper tier. The girl used her shreds of crimson clothing and used it to stop her arm from bleeding even further. She scrambled and climbed the stairs. The werewolf chased her when suddenly the stone statues came to life. Gargoyles, the wolf snarled. The stone flesh was harder to yield but he would not relent. Claws and fangs working against the stone until it finally gave way and crumbled beneath his sheer strength. He saw the girl on the top of the stairs then, breathing heavily from her loss of blood and magicka. She turned and run towards the corridor on the second floor. He ran after her and saw the girl snatched bottles of potion from the wooden cupboards.
The turned Harbinger must applaud at her ingenuity, her whole castle was her personal storage and armory. But it could turn to the werewolf's advantage as well. He could snatch the supply she had no time to take for himself. More of the armed skeletons and gargoyles crossed his way, whilst the master ran deeper into the tower's stony corridor. Vilkas defeated the creatures in no time. A vampire suddenly emerged from a dark corner of the corridor. Despite its bat-like visage, the werewolf could see the origin of its' enemy. A redguard. He cut the man in two remorselessly after suffering a few cuts and lightning bolts.
His lady did not realize the sacrifice as she was busy staying alive. Though she had suspicions from the battle cry and thundering sounds echoing through the recently renovated corridor. The leader of Volkihar vampires mustered more gargoyles as she ran their way, snatching few health and magicka potions scattered for no reason. It would be the work of Ronthil, remembering he was busying himself days prior to the exodus preparing potions. The castle's alchemist who acted as Ronthil's mentor had taken Vingalmo's side during the internal fight and was executed with an icy pike impaled through his dark flesh.
Fura and Hestla prepared traps alongside the corridor and installed simple triggers. The two had suspicion their lady ought to be extremely under duress and must move swiftly during the last battle. Though they had mistaken of the number invading the castle, for they prepared traps capable of killing a whole company. Spiked traps, crushing walls, trap doors with spears underneath, and more unearthly contraptions. Unfortunately Vilkas could evade and destroy those machinations as easy as cutting through vegetables.
For many a times the werewolf's sharp claws could reach the blonde vampire lord and each time he tried to catch the girl, she could evade the strong furred arms by spinning and turning, circling around the werewolf with her unnatural reflexes before sending fiery balls onto Vilkas' canine visage and escaped the scene. She did not manage to evade the werewolf's wild clawings, causing her black coat ripped. Ignoring the gory sound, the girl continued to escape, summoning more skeletons to her side.
The vampire lord remembered all the cheesy novels she had read during her study in Imperial City before her arrival in Skyrim. One of the fairy tales accompanied her childhood was about a girl straying off forest path and she got chased by a werewolf. The hooded girl was powerless, as she was not trained in sword nor magic. She could only run. The end was grim. The vampire lord grimaced as she remembered the grim ending. Another was a triangle love between a human, an ancient vampire, and a werewolf. She threw the books away after reading the first chapters. She heard the ending was not a happy one as well.
Yet compared to her reality, the story gave no hint of the horror chasing her at that time. The black oversized wolf ran on four with its only desire to devour her. Grim endings coursed through her head and images popped out in her brain. She did not realize her pace slowed down due to lack of stamina. The vampire lord realized it too late as she heard the fear inducing roar from the stairs beneath her. The girl pressed her hand against the stone walls in panic. She accidentally activated an old trap. A block of pure steel appeared from the low ceiling and bashed its dull edge into the werewolf and it fell off the stairs. It took her few seconds before registering what had transpired.
The blonde vampire returned to her effort in escaping. Was the transformation took that long? The girl started to worry that her beloved had lost himself to his beast side. Should she reach the top of the ruined tower before he reverted back to his human self…she gulped her welling saliva. Another escape down the tower would be impossible.
The two reached a dead-end. A small hall featured in the upper tier of the tower. It was recently renovated and reoccupied. Fire walls formed in front of him but the man would never stop. He breached through the fiery hell and found the vampire lord's shocked expression. Before she could have summoned more of her gargoyles or rose her army of corpses the ebony werewolf grounded her, pinning her under his claw.
That was it, that was the dreaded moment when he had to take his beloved's life. Yet at the same time relieving her of her sadness and grief. The fallen dragon born made no attempt to escape nor fight. She was simply accepting her fate as none she could have done with her sword arm wounded and her spell arm pinned. Claws digging into her flesh but she did not grimace. The girl smiled instead, "..and here I thought you're cured of Lycanthropy. You said you preferred Sovngarde, was it a façade?"
"I'll rid of this curse after I'm finished with you!" The Harbinger's canine jaw moved as claws digging deeper into the vampire lord's flesh. She grimaced from the pain but said nothing of it. The girl knew how fiery the man she loved could be. When Vilkas enraged he would care nothing of the other party's well-being. Not until his rage had subsided. "I'll wage war with Molag Bal if it needs be! As Kodlak will put the Hunting Ground into Harrowing, so shall I to Molag Bal's realm!" The idea of Vilkas leading heroes of Sovngarde invading Coldharbour was pleasing in the least.
The girl cried in pain as she could not withstand the sheer strength anymore. The wolf did not loosen his grip, blinded by beastly rage."I might be there, fighting for the daedric lord" Her voice faltered and her breath fell into unsteady rhythm. The onyx werewolf filled her view and the canine jaw loomed just above her, snarling in insatiable hunger. Orbs brim with fiery anger directed not to his beloved but rather to the daedric lords playing the mortals on a whim as if they were toys. Saliva dropping from his jaw onto the girl's forehead. It's maddening to be the passive one, waiting for the killing blow. She clenched her fists fighting her own fear.
The vampire lord turned her head, giving access for the werewolf to rip her veins off, shivering as the furred jaw nuzzled against her pale neck. Feeling the ragged breath from the canine jaw and nose sniffing and mapping her figure, she gave in the fear of what the werewolf would do to her in his blind rage. He stopped. To Vilkas' surprise, the girl still smelled of summer as the girl often helped Valerica tending to her herb garden. His rage subsided and he noticed the blood flowing out of the cuts he created. The werewolf's grip loosened and the girl raised her left arm, with no intention of casting any spells.
Her beloved knew it and let her rose to sitting position after she circled her arm around his furry neck and used it as leverage. He also helped the girl by circling his own clawed hand around the girl's waist and balanced her. "Might be. Unless I rescued you first"
"I am NOT a damsel in distress" She was still feisty and had the worst tongue, to Vilkas' amusement. Afraid not of death, but strangely she had fear facing spectres and wraiths. Remembering how she trembled behind him whenever their hunt crossed them with spirits. The girl's cheek brushed against Vilkas' furred.
"You never were, my dear" As soon as the girl hear the words she yearned for, she moved her left arm to Vilkas' furred canine jaw, positioned her face in front of his and gently kiss the wolf's canine nose. Then the young vampire lord let her arm dropped beside her and buried her face furred shoulders. Death was approaching and she felt a secure instead of fear. She'd die in the hands of her beloved in the least. Vilkas rose his clawed hand, ready to perform the killing move. "I'll grant you quick death, that's the least I could do". The vampire lord clutched at the wolf's furred shoulder as if she were a lover gripping her partner's clothing during lovemaking, closing her eyes and let fate do her work.
Claws digging into flesh, blood gushed out of the wound. But instead of the girl, it was the werewolf's instead. The hound was not dead. "Garmr!", the girl cried when she saw the hound with its limped limbs challenged its superior. She rose to her feet and ran, her eyes prickly. Her heart filled with happiness acknowledging her hound's loyalty. Not yet, she should not die yet. The girl resolved to live. The girl turned a candle hold, and a secret pathway revealed itself behind an old hearth. She continued climbing the stairs without looking back. Only once she did to see her loyal hound torn into pieces and the werewolf reverted into human form.
The fallen dragon born rushed to Valerica's hideout on the top of the tower. Years of neglect had ruined the ceiling and let the moonlights in. Snowstorm had subsided and the dark clouds were nowhere to be seen. Pure white snow covered the magic circle where the entrance to Soul Cairn used to be. Valerica and Serana closed it behind her as they entered the realm. The dragon born willingly stayed. The people of Tamriel should believe that the vampire threat ended with their lord dead. But the small actions of her loyal vassals had moved her heart. No longer she wished to die. No longer she willingly became a scapegoat.
Yes, scapegoat…of Vingalmo and Orthjolf's betrayal months before this story took place. The two rejected her rule and reluctance to take over Tamriel. They attacked, though in different factions, various holds in Skyrim. Their lady would not let them do as they please. She executed them with her own hands, literally.
Her golden hair glowed silvery under moonlight. Eyes filled with renewed determination. The Harbinger smiled as he preferred fighting an opponent with unrelenting determination than those ready to die for their cause. Martyrdom and resolve to live was different things after all. The pair of golden orbs he had seen inside a vampire crypt was filled with readiness to die, if not hopelessness.
"Why'd you kill your own underlings?" the elder wolf asked, when he saw his long lost beloved's arm breaching through another vampire's middle. He could not see her clearly due to the darkness but he could see the golden orbs gleaming.
Brandishing his Skyforge steel, Vilkas attacked the girl with renewed resolution. He too would not hesitate to cut her down. The vampire lord on the other hand, unsheathed a sword hung by her waist, which she had not wielded from the beginning of their duel. She had run out of magicka.
Vilkas would never know of the intricate politics within Volkihar halls. Most people thought vampires as cannibalistic barbarians. The girl made no mention of it. For it was of no use. Let the men and mer consider her as the enemy. They needed a figure to be blamed upon. Afterall, the fallen dragon born was their lord. The living would march towards Volkihar castle eventually, so why bother delaying the inevitable?
To the elder wolf's surprise, it was the old sword he gave the dragon born as a gift of her joining. Enchantments had preserved it's quality over year. He never told her, but the sword was his own creation with the help of Gray-mane. Runes inscribed on the edges was of old language, a prayer for the girl's safety and the sword's strength to cut whoever crossed her path.
"Why…they are of no use to me no more. They failed my commands. That reason alone is enough for me to question their loyalty" the girl laughed as she threw the sorry remain of her dead vassal into the stone wall. The corpse yielded and fell as if it was a rag doll.
Both of them ran out of stamina but their dance was as beautiful as their limbs allowed. Two figure dancing under silvery moon light, circling each other. Despite their death match, the two enjoyed the exchange like they did years ago in the backyards of Jorrvaskr. Sparks spew out where steel met steel. The two danced despite their wounds. Both of them smiled.
"Come to Castle Volkihar, o' revered Companion. Kill us and no vampire shall disturb your peace anymore. What say you? Will you accept this invitation?" The girl extended her bloodied arm. Despite the shadow, Vilkas knew she was smiling. He agreed then.
How he wished they were not inside the bleak halls but rather in the training yard behind Jorrvaskr where he and the whelps used to train. He wished they were not fighting for their lives but rather in a fight for youth pride like the two used to engage in. He wished Kodlak was there stopping the two before the fight could escalate to something life threatening. He wished they could return to the first spar they shared, with the old man judging their skill and the other Companions cheered for them and secretly bet behind their back. They could not afford such luxury.
Telling no one of his quest, the Harbinger embarked alone to Castle Volkihar. The bleak castle he avoided for long, thinking he lacked the strength to face the vampire lord. But in reality he was lacking the will and resolve. Thinking back to the tearful girl on the day of their separation, he resolved to end her pain.
They made a distance and stared at each other. Both knew their next move would end everything. The charged towards each other and their steel met for the last time.
The two never joined, never shared a kiss nor each other's warmth. Only steel and the harshness of battle. Wipe your tears milord and lady, for this story is not your reality. Let this tale buried under your everlasting dream. Your sympathy for this tragic couple was more than enough. Yet it is high time for us to return to reality where dream has less power over us.
Now, may the dance begin!
Another bumpy ride :(
Don't hesitate to send me feedback if I break some lore or put this in the wrong section