It was a quiet night in Skyrim. Walking through the woods, animals keeping their distance and insects keeping themselves silent until you passed, normally that would be concerning, eerie. But when you knew exactly what they were so cautious of, the effect was lessened. The effect was negated when what they feared was no threat to you. It was something else even then when the creature in question was allied to you. Still, it was a strange feeling for the world to be so still; even after months of experiencing it.
"Up here!"
"Ahh, yes, finally our goal crests the horizon; a cave. Truly brilliant, my master."
The sass was no less effective despite the warped voice which casually huffed it at her. Freylia blinked her blue eyes and looked up, pulling her furry hood back and letting her blonde hair free to the small breeze. She knew it was ineffective, but it still felt right to glare up at Zalkyviir; the Dremora she called thrall.
"A cave that has valuable knowledge hidden inside, according to the Dawnguard." She reminded him of their apparent objective, and in return Zalkyviir merely sighed something of a groan, nodding absently.
"Yes, yes, the careless mortal with a loose tongue bragging about his glorious mission. If he should happen upon us within this cave, I will rip that tongue from him before it gets us into trouble. It's up to your command, master, whether or not he chokes to death." Zalkyviir huffed a smile as he raised his poleaxe with one arm, the Daedric metals glinting dark in the light of the moon. Freylia gaped for a moment at his back, then blinked, closed her mouth, and hummed gravely.
"I… suppose that might be necessary."
"We can't exactly expect him to spend all night at the inn when he should be working." He spoke with a lilt of sarcasm; not in the least believing they really had to worry about that Dawnguard. Zalkyviir turned and held his poleaxe over his shoulder, shrugging as he watched Freylia walk by him, "I don't overestimate this mortal for any reason other than caution, my master." As always, the title of master is spoken loosely and almost drawling from Zalkyviir's lips. Even bound, it has never sounded like a genuine title; there was no scathing insult to the sound, it merely lacked conviction. There was plenty other titles he would give in its place if Freylia said he could; which she had, when she first summoned him. It was a mere hour before she took back her kindness and deigned him to only call her master. Though that was months ago.
"Let's head in, then." She muttered, watching idly as deer ran off in the distance.
Together the two entered Dimhollow Crypt; Zalkyviir's especially noticing the small lit braziers on either side of the cave. He hummed quietly at the implication, looking forth into the dark and stepping in front of Freylia. She blinked up at him and nodded. He could see just fine, his Deadric eyes allowing the dim light to be used most effectively. For Freylia, the shadows were thick.
They walked through the cramped cave entrance, snow crunching quietly under the fall of Daedric metal as Zalkyviir marched ahead. Freylia let him go, the metres between them growing as they walked out into the open cavern within.
And heard voices.
Zalkyviir stopped, weapon in both hands as he glanced over his shoulder to Freylia, then motioned with his poleaxe toward two conversing people. Freylia turned to them, looked hard through the dark, and quietly shook her head. Zalkyviir scowled lazily and knelt on the spot, lowering himself to be somewhat in cover as Freylia crouched by him, peaking over the stone.
"Those vigilants never know when to give up. I thought we'd taught them enough of a lesson at their hall."
"Vigilants?" Freylia asked quietly, whispering. Zalkyviir hummed, sticking to his master's wishes in being quiet as he mumbled back.
"These beings are vampires." He pointed subtly, "Their Deathhound hides in vigil, though its eyes are clearly growing dull given our secrecy." Slowly, he lowered his hand, lifting his poleaxe from the snow. He looked aside to Freylia, letting the gaze speak for itself as it had before; this time, meeting his eyes, Freylia nodded.
Immediately Zalkyviir stood, rushing aside and grinning as he slammed the pommel of his weapon into the wall; the Deathhound perked onto its feet with a growl as the Vampires snapped around to see him.
"Ready to die, worms?!"
He charged forward as Freylia concentrated a restorative golden glow between her hands, walking after him slow and rather casually as she noticed the Vampires lacking ranged equipment. They did, however, still have their magic, though that was little trouble to her; she remained further from her companion as she would normally like even so. Vampires could move faster than bandits after all. That said, she didn't expect them to actually get passed him.
Zalkyviir felt his body undergo the magical boost of vitality and power, his bound nature impowering him to protect his concentrating master; a strategy often proving most effective.
The Deathhound leapt and it's jaws met only metal as Zalkyviir caught it on the pole of his weapon. He lifted and slammed it down on its back, amidst its yelp kicking it screaming into one of the Vampires just as she'd drawn her weapon. The male scowled as he sidestepped his falling companion and rushed in, hand shooting forward with that sickly draining spell.
Zalkyviir smiled as he felt it nip. However, it could do little more than that. He healed so fast this close to his master that the spell had no real way to drain his lifeforce. He grinned and lifted his poleaxe high, pommel aimed toward the enemy to avoid tangling.
"Ha! Pointless!"
The Vampire simply clenched his fist to cut off his magic, instead stabbing for Zalkyviir's exposed abdomen. He brought his arms down and the pommel of his weapon smacked the sword away; the pole subsequently being smashed into the Vampire's face when Zalkyviir pushed his arms out. As the Vampire stumbled away, Zalkyviir turned his body and swung his arms, the blade of his axe gleaming in the torchlight.
SLICE
And so the Vampire's head fell to the ground, then so too did it's body. Zalkyviir twisted back and drove the spike atop his poleaxe into the Deathhound's neck as it again leapt, driving it from the air to the ground; he stepped around, switching his hold and ripping the poleaxe out of the beast directly into an overhead crush with the bludgeoning, hammer-like edge at the back of the axe. The Vampire woman's eyes went wide and she quickly moved; only for Zalkyviir's attack to twist on the fall into a sideways cleave with the axe as she was mid-sidestep.
"Foolish!"
She screamed as the axe ripped through her chest, flipping back halfway from the strength behind it and landing on the back of her head against the stone. Torso and skull both bleeding, Zalkyviir simply stepped over, lifted a boot, and crushed the Vampire's skull.
A few metres behind him, Freylia dispelled her unused healing magic, dropping her hands with a smile, "Quick work."
"As is only right for such pests. They aren't worthy of a more impressive death."
Freylia turned to the bodies, looking to the trio of corpses that had already been there which she'd not seen at first; two more vampires, given their similar attire and look, as well as what had to be a Vigilant of Stendarr. She hummed gravely; there likely wasn't just one Vigilant, from what she knew they didn't travel alone. Her attention turned to the gate before them and quickly enough she noticed that it lacked a pull-chain.
"Uh…" She glanced side to side, humming. Perhaps it was hidden? Maybe in one of the further areas of the small cavern-
"Hrn-Hrgh!" The grunts came amidst the screech of resisting metal, and Freylia snapped around to see Zalkyviir standing with one hand raised, holding the gate above his head. His poleaxe almost scrapped the ground in the other hand, and he motioned with it for Freylia to pass. His face was only a little bit strained, not from the weight; more likely the no-doubt resisting mechanisms gave him some trouble.
"Thanks." Freylia chirped, walking through with her eyes examining the stones and crevices around her as Zalkyviir stepped forth and dropped the gate. It landed with a crash and Freylia jumped, glaring back at him with wide eyes. He shrugged.
"I'll kill any who come running to the sound."
Freylia sighed and motioned him ahead, "In that case, take the lead."
"As you wish, my master."
They walked calmly through the stone halls, Freylia's head on a swivel at each shadow. Zalkyviir's own looked over each one too, making sure there wasn't anything hiding in wait as they moved deeper. They quickly came out into a larger cavern than the previous one; there was constructed pillars deeper in with large, lit braziers on them. Water flowed through the ground and coffins were numerous.
Zalkyviir dropped the few feet into the cavern, the stairs rubble, with a small grunt. Freylia sat down and eased herself off the ledge, looking around with caution. Zalkyviir motioned ahead, mumbling, "A Fledgling patrols."
"I'll summon a Flame Atronach by i-"
"It has seen us." Zalkyviir started forward, and then stopped as coffins were thrown open, skeletal Draugr climbing from them. He rolled his shoulders and stepped back to Freylia, and she begun concentrating her Magicka once more. However, this time it was not Restoration. Her eyes morphed from the blue iris first; they became the gold of flame as the sclera of her eyes turned black and red, fiery like a Sigil Stone. Purple fires of Conjuration at the tips of her fingers, she pushed a hand forth and from a burst of the same fire flowed a burning Flame Atronach; the Vampire Fledging, startled, leapt aside from the sudden summon so close by, drawing her blade with haste.
With that, the Daugr reached them; their undead minds were weak to combat even if their bodies weren't. The first to come was merely crushed beneath the hammer of Zalkyviir's poleaxe; with a twist and a second swing, the second was cleaved in two at the waist by the blade of his axe. The third was a summoned skeleton which was firing with a bow at the Flame Atronach from behind as it tried to kill the Vampire.
The skeleton may or may not have had the time, or mental capacity, to be startled when Zalkyviir took hold of its skull in one hand and casually twisted, snapping the spine and decapitating it. He dropped the fading-to-dust bones as the Flame Atronach's fiery bolts finally scored a proper hit against the Vampire. Given just what it was, the scream of agony was expected; the sudden stop alongside a Daedric growl was too, as Zalkyviir cut its head off with a swing of his poleaxe.
"This should hopefully get challenging soon." Zalkyviir muttered, eyeing the black blood on his weapon with a wistful hope and moderate disgust. He leisurely twirled it into a proper hold, swinging the axe down hard enough to rid the wet blood from his weapon. The rest was scorched away from the presence of the Flame Atronach as he held his axe close to her lazily dancing form. The Atronachs Freylia summoned had been incredibly potent for a while now, one summon could take the place of a campfire and act as a sentry.
"Hopefully it won't." Freylia muttered, "I like it better when you cut down threats in one or two seconds. Having them be tough wouldn't be good for me if you can't keep their attention." She waved a hand, eyes still quite evil looking, and called to her Atronach as they ascended stairs, "Go deeper in. Kill any Vampires and Deathhounds you find. Frostbite Spiders too, just in case."
The Atronach twirled a little bit as it made a muted form of vocalisation, like the imitation of a woman breathily moaning for a moment, and then the sound was simply roaring fire. The Daedra flew off into the cave, and Zalkyviir took up a close watch as Freylia searched the few coffins around the place which didn't house corpses. And even a few that did; though she only searched those after Zalkyviir detached their skulls. In those few searching minutes, there was little discovery. She found a few Septims, but no "valuable knowledge."
Then, not too far away, she heard her Flame Atronach explode; that meant it was either dead or it had been forced into using its Greater Power. Either way, afterwards, she stopped hearing any distant fire.
"Let's keep going."
Zalkyviir started walking without sound, Freylia following behind. They left the gravesite and went deeper into the cave via another gate; though this one had a lever to operate it. The Flame Atronach had been smart enough to use it, clearly, as she was deeper in and the gate was open. Within were a few coffins in the corners of the room; Freylia ignored those, making a beeline for the Arcane Enchanter in the back-left corner.
"Is now the ideal time for this, master?"
"Shh."
"As you wish."
She ran her gloved fingertips over the enchanter, frowning at the wear she could feel and see. Crypt or no, surely it would be kept up to allow the Vampires here enchanted equipment? Whatever the case, she took the Soul Gems atop it, again frowning at the petty craftsmanship. But then, everything looked petty once you'd made a few Grand gems.
She pocketed them and they continued deeper in, following after the trail of scorches. They immediately found a few dead Draugr surrounding a Vampire, who, given the few sword wounds, seemed to have been fighting them. Though the disfigured and burnt body, along with the walls stained high with soot, shone light on what had actually killed it. But, concentrating, Freylia still felt that summoner-connection to her Atronach, so it must have continued on.
She followed the trail with Zalkyviir leading. Through another hall and another gate, they came upon the scene of the Flame Atronach hovering above boiling water, slinging fire at skeletons emerging from graves. A Vampire was quickly retreating from the powerful flame creature, disappearing further in, and Zalkyviir scowled a smile when he saw it, "Ahh, they flee from such a pitiful enemy. I wonder if they'll run or freeze when they see me."
"My Atronachs are hardly pitiful."
"Of course not, master."
With those idle words, Zalkyviir marched through the shin-deep water. Which meant it was knee deep on Freylia, and she cringed upon seeing him wade through it. Her eyes faded back to blue as Zalkyviir cut through a skeleton and her Atronach. As it wailed and started sparking, ready to burst into an explosion upon death, he grabbed it by the back of the armour encasing its fire and simply tossed it across the water to the three final skeletons. In a burst of flame, they were all but melted. With green magic in her hands, Freylia pulled her arms apart, spreading magic which flared down her body, glowing around her boots. With that, she walked across the surface of the shallow water, soles of her boots barely damp never mind soaking through as she reached the other side. Zalkyviir was already walking up the hill towards the hall the Vampire had fled down, so Freylia quickly followed.
When they moved through the door and up the few steps to an urn, Freylia happily searched it while Zalkyviir stopped and looked to the left, down their path. He chuckled at what he saw. As Freylia pocketed a few more Septims and drank a Magicka potion she recovered, she then looked too as she wiped her mouth.
What she saw were webs. Webs and eggs and spiders. There was only two of the smaller ones, but small Frostbite Spiders are still about the size of her torso. Thankfully, they were both dead. Not so thankfully, a couple of Deathhounds and their Vampire master were at the end of the hall, the former rushing ahead; Zalkyviir tutted.
"You're not the pest that ran." He said with a scowl, hefting his poleaxe as he walked towards them. He jerked aside and thrust his weapon out, the pole cracking a Deathhound in the side of the head as it jumped and slamming it into the wall; he twisted and swung with the pommel to break the other's jaw. He followed the momentum there to spin, cleave, and got blocked firmly by a scowling Vampire with a steel blade. He recovered within a second from the shock and just laughed, "Aahh, you are a challenger!"
He and the darkly dressed Vampire locked in combat as Freylia stepped into the hall, bronze telekinesis brushing the Frostbite Spider corpses into the shadow where they were crushed together into a small ball and left out of sight. She begun to charge a Healing spell, both for in case Zalkyviir needed a sudden quick spike to his innate regeneration this close or otherwise just for the boost it gave him. Started to, but she didn't actually get to hold it for long.
An ice-cold hand shot over her mouth and nose, blocking breathing and speech, and the other wrapped tight around her abdomen and pinned her arms down. She immediately found herself dragged off her feet, kicking as she was pulled into a side-hovel by a chuckling little voice; she saw cold skin appearing at the corner of her eye as the Vampire's invisibility broke.
It was sadistic as it purred into her ear, voice almost like a mere imitation of a woman given the monstrous hiss behind each word, "My, such a young little morsel. Stupid children, I'm told, taste good." It was about then that Freylia screamed into the Vampire's hand and redoubled on her thrashing. The Vampire growled and spun, bending forward to restrict Freylia's movements by putting them against a wall; then, she used the hold on Freylia's mouth to pull her head aside.
By the time she felt fangs against her skin, she couldn't hear fighting anymore. Though that was likely the ringing in her ears.
By the time pain blossomed through her neck as teeth sunk into her, she could hear a quick, rhythmic thump.
By the time her struggle was slightly slowing down, she realised that thumping was heavy, metal boots.
Then, a mere handful of seconds after this feeding had begun, it stopped; as Zalkyviir grabbed the Vampire by the head and the jaw. He pulled with both hands and the Vampire's teeth were ripped out from Freylia's neck, its screech loud and agonised as its jaw was tore bloodily apart. Zalkyviir growled a yell of, "Lecherous coward!" as he turned and swung the Vampire of its feet by the head and jaw, slamming it into the stony shelf it had taken Freylia behind hard enough that its spine audibly crunched. After that, it was still, silent, and quite dead.
Freylia was on the ground, crumpled into a loose ball leaning against stone as golden restoration flared around her hands, clasping against the bloody wound on her throat. Already, she could breathe again, but as the magic slowly faded and her breathing still trembled, she pulled her hands away only to see her gloves and robe soaked with blood. Another second or two and she might not have had time to heal.
She stutteringly looked up to Zalkyviir with wide, trembling and wet eyes, breathing rapidly with semblance of panic, and he frowned uncomfortably. He turned and folded his arms, back to her in the little hovel; though he was also between her and anything else that could try to harm her. He groaned with some amount of irritation when he felt her hug into his leg, sighing all over as he realised he was being used as the comforting presence, but stood without reprisal nonetheless.
A minute passed before he heard the sniffling stop and her breathing growing steady. She stood with the aid of his body and the wall, and then Zalkyviir looked down on her, half-turning. With a slow nod, she motioned for him to move, and so he started walking at a barely slower pace than usual. She kept up with him well, still holding her neck with one hand.
They reached the corpse of the Vampire he'd been fighting. The small challenge had come to a fast end when he'd heard Freylia scream and simply pushed his poleaxe forward as hard as he could. The Vampire was pinned to the wall, its sword shattered on the floor and half of the poleaxe's blade through its chest, never mind the spike at the tip; he'd not had the time to rip it out. Freylia further recovered while wiping her eyes with the dry sleeves of her dark purple, furry conjuration robes. With a bloody squelch and a stony crumble, Zalkyviir freed his poleaxe, the Vampire's corpse sliding down the wall amidst the shards of what had been two small burial urns. He led the way once more, but this time it was with Freylia right by his side, one arm holding her by the shoulder half to make sure she was there and half to keep her moving at a relative speed.
It was only a short moment of walking through the web-covered halls before they passed another Frostbite Spider corpse out into the cave once more, less manufactured structure around them. There was a fence bordering a small waterfall, and a gate across from them; behind which a Vampire fought a Giant Frostbite Spider. The former was clearly stronger than his brethren, moving faster and striking noticeably harder, and Zalkyviir stopped by the gate, keeping Freylia behind his back. They watched the fight. Watching the Vampire draining constantly and swinging his sword at the scuttling legs. It wasn't long before the giant spider was dead, collapsing in a heap as the Vampire panted shortly, winded from the fight; then snapping around with wide eyes when he heard the gate open.
Then letting out little more than a short shout of pain and confusion when a poleaxe was hurled like a javelin into his torso. He left his feet, landing shaking on his back with vague convulsions; they were stopped rather dead when Zalkyviir ripped his weapon out with a grunt then dropped the spike instead on the Vampire's face. He pulled it out once more and nodded; for good measure pushing Freylia into making a wide berth around the duo of corpses.
They walked toward a wooden door within the beginning of a structured hall, candles aplenty lighting the way. Zalkyviir thought about kicking the door down, then thought better of it considering how shaken his already non-combative master was. She couldn't directly defend herself, so unless he really could cut down each enemy in one quick second, it may be best for now to keep somewhat quiet. So he just pulled the door open by its handle, ducking through as Freylia quietly shut it behind them; a pale wave of magic accompanying the sound of a lock clicking without a key.
Upon a small pedestal in the middle of the room they were in was a scroll, and Zalkyviir stepped quietly passed it as Freylia took to reading it. She still seemed slow, lethargic, and also seemed to not be hearing the voices speaking quietly beneath them. Zalkyviir peeked over the stone railing, watching a Vampire swing his sword to cut a tied up Vigilants throat, and felt the disgust of such cowardice crawl up his spine. He glanced over his shoulder. Then blinked, somewhat surprised to find Freylia standing almost directly behind him, holding that scroll in both hands; a strong fire beginning to build in her hand. Fireball was it? She may not be skilled in Destruction, but her aptitude for magic pushed scrolls far enough. He motioned down to the two Vampires, and Freylia nodded; stepping beside him, she pulled her hand back.
Zalkyviir shouted as she threw her hand and the fire, "Burn, little weaklings!"
They had time to start turning.
BOOM
Before they were blown off their feet by a fiery explosion.
CLANG
Zalkyviir landed from vaulting the fence half a dozen metres up with only a grunt. The female creature, alight and screaming, stumbled towards him inadvertently; he cracked her head aside with the lower end of his poleaxe, then brought it hard into her stomach to wind her truly.
Turning around the poleaxe in the midst of switching his grip, Zalkyviir then spun on heel and whipped the Vampire off her feet with a mighty swing which sent her spinning into the water below.
The male managed to survive, patting out the fire and standing with a vague stagger. Zalkyviir motioned Freylia down; he heard her footsteps coming and decided to head aside to meet them just in case. The bridge still smouldered with embers, the Vampire unwilling to cross lest he again catch fire. Zalkyviir and Freylia came to a stop by the executed Vigilant. Freylia furrowed her brow and crouched, picking up a red potion which had rolled from his pocket. Zalkyviir glanced down from the corner of his eye.
"Healing?"
"No… It's not the right colour." She blinked, smiling, and for the first time in a surprising amount of time she seemed happy again, "It's for curing diseases!"
"And what does that matter-" Before he was finished, she was gulping the entire potion down. At the rate she was drinking that stuff she'd have a stomach ache. It's happened before, and he's not looking after a lethargic and complaining master. That's for the Atronachs. He hummed disapprovingly, "I thought you would've considered Vampirism for at least more than a few minutes. That was Lord Molag Bal's own gift, however twisted it may be from these pests."
"I'm not going to become a Vampire when I know next to nothing about it, that's stupid!"
"Ahh, so maybe you were considering things."
"I consider thoughts on everything I come across." She muttered, standing, and then stepped back with a quick, "It's coming!"
Zalkyviir looked to the Vampire, seeing it charging across the cooled bridge with a snarl, "Shouldn't have let me heal!"
"What would it matter?" Zalkyviir asked, lifting his poleaxe.
The Vampire may have been a coward, but at the very least he wasn't a completely weak pest. While Zalkyviir parried his first strike, his own counter was redirected to the ground; though when the Vampire thought that was an opening, Zalkyviir showed that it wasn't by backhanding the creature away.
"Master are you well?" Zalkyviir asked, almost completely calm, while the combat between him and the Vampire continued. Freylia blinked, looking side to side, and over her shoulder, then nodded.
"Uh, yeah. I'm ok."
"Good."
With that, Zalkyviir kicked at the Vampire's leg; off balance, it didn't manage to stop Zalkyviir grabbing it by the hair and turning, throwing it almost at Freylia. She quickly moved out the way of her charging thrall, and as the Vampire recovered it failed to stop the spike of the poleaxe from being driven through its shoulder. Carried back into the wall, Zalkyviir wrapped his arm around the weapon, holding it in his bent elbow as that arm grabbed hold of the Vampire's still-working arm at the wrist. He held it still with a groan at the struggle as it thrashed, crimson draining as much as it could even while held, his hand twisted at an odd and uncomfortable angle to do so. Zalkyviir stretched his free hand out to the side, towards Freylia.
"A blade if you would, my master."
The Vampire's eyes were going wide as Freylia hummed her consent; eyes morphing demonic for a few seconds as conjuration magic summoned a spectral Daedric sword into Zalkyviir's hand. He grinned a sadistic gesture and stabbed the struggling Vampire in the abdomen, pushing the purple fire of the sword through its screaming body; then ripped it sharply out the side. In the same motion he turned and grabbed his poleaxe with both hands, tearing it from the useless shoulder and cleaving from neck to waist as the Vampire reeled from the sheer pain.
It collapsed from the force and went still on the ground, barely twitching and breathing just a little. Up until, of course, Zalkyviir brought his axe down on its neck, decapitating the creature as it laid there. Then they were alone, quiet for all but the drip of decayed blood from Daedric metal. Zalkyviir stepped over to the scorched bridge, looking down to the murky water and seeing the female Vampire's corpse floating face-down. He nodded then, holding his poleaxe more casually, and started over the bridge, "We are alone."
"I've had about enough of Vampires." Freylia muttered, rubbing her neck; she'd healed it, but she still almost felt the bite, "I just want to get whatever this secret is and leave."
"If Vampires were here looking for it, they'll look for you once you have it."
"Yeah, well, as long as I can go a day without seeing another I'll be fine."
"As you say, my master." Poleaxe over his shoulder, he hummed at the podium in the centre of the little stadium they seemed to be in. She hummed, fingertips grazing over the stone for a moment. She studied the patterns, the craft, and her Magicka lightly sprinkled through the stone; it wasn't any ordinary masonry. She hummed, blinking her gaze away from the podium itself to what lay at its head; a button? Blood stained it faintly and the button was not a fully solid thing, there was instead a small hole in it. Freylia removed the glove from her right hand, the enchanted rings beneath shining in the dim light, so rarely exposed to elements and constantly beneath such soft material that they remained sparkling and new despite being months old. She breathed slowly, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as her hand rested over the button. She faintly grit her teeth, closed her eyes, and pushed down.
She flinched, grimacing as she held back her voice into naught but a groan. Her eyes opened stutteringly after she felt the small instrument fade back into the stone, cradling her right hand to her chest as restorative gold flared around it gently. She let out the breath she had held, relaxing her jaw, and blinked the tears out her eyes.
As she nursed her hand, Zalkyviir watched a glowing purple flame spread along an indent in the ground, motioning with his free hand to the silver sconces around, "Master, it seems to be a ritual more than a simple button."
Freylia hummed in acknowledgement, pulling her glove back on and grimacing at the feeling of dried blood. Once her hand had completely ceased its ache, she stepped to the sconce closest to where the fire had stopped, pushing it with a vague grunt; hard to get started, but once moving it all but glided over the stone. Once she got it over the fire, she felt the sconce heating up too-quickly; with a small yelp, Freylia backed away from the sconce as it flared with fire, and then beneath it the trail of fire moved to another location near another sconce. She glanced to Zalkyviir as she stepped to the next one, though he merely shrugged. So she did too, before continuing to line up the sconces.
Once they were all lined up and Freylia was looking expectant, the ground started to shift. Depressing and opening, she stepped back hurriedly as a purple void of magic was revealed to the air. She concentrated on it with her eyes and her mind, though she couldn't quite place what it was. Her study was cut short as a coffin-like monolith raised from the ground. Her studying eyes blinked with confusion before Zalkyviir stepped before her, poleaxe in both hands and held ready for combat; she peaked out under his arm as the monolith moved. Stone scraped stone as age-old dust was misplaced, then a face of the structure fell, sliding back into the void beneath; as it did, the purple disappeared, leaving only cold stone.
It revealed something unexpected. A Vampire woman in the same clothing as some of the others. Or, rather, similar clothing. But it was noticeably different with more than a glance, more dignified, less like mere armour; a cape pinned on by gold, coalescing in an ornate skull-patterned garment around the neck; smoother, cleaner black leather; richer red fabrics elsewhere. It was generally an upgrade, and it even had a stronger essence of enchantment to it.
As the woman's arms uncrossed from her chest and she was no longer seemingly suspended with magic, both in the air and likely time, she then fell from the coffin to the ground. She woke up fast, catching herself on hands and knees as her breathing started with a quietly shocked gasp, her body noticeably shuddering as she recovered.
"By the Divines!" Freylia all but shouted, stepping out from behind Zalkyviir and staring with wide, sparkling eyes, "S-S-She has an Elder Scroll!" Her gaze turned excitedly to her thrall as he kept his eyes on the Vampire, "An Elder Scroll!"
"I do…"
Freylia's grin faded as she remembered herself and the situation, her eyes blinking back into caution, though not calm, as she stepped half-behind Zalkyviir. The Vampire stood before them with a slight stumble, the difficulty a very subtle thing but something still noticeable. She lifted her head, opening her eyes above a level frown.
Fire. That's what they looked like. Most Vampire eyes she'd seen so far were two-toned bloody red, predatory to be sure, dark and all but black in dim light. Not these, not on this woman. No, her eyes were like pure embers; the sclera noticeable but dimmer than the glowing pupils. Pure orange and shining, these eyes were something more malevolent than merely monstrous.
"…And it's mine."
The guarded tone snapped Freylia out of her study. More so did the chuckle Zalkyviir gave in response.
"For now." The Vampire's frown deepened into a scowl and she took a small step back, one hand holding her Elder Scroll secure as the other took hold of a dagger at her hip. Zalkyviir paid that little mind visibly, though he was quite vigilant even as he motioned with his weapon, "Shall I retrieve it, my master?"
"Uhh, that… depends." Freylia wasn't quite hiding like before, but she was still peaking passed Zalkyviir's form to look at the Vampire, "Are you going to try and kill us, take over Skyrim, etcetera…?"
Her scowl had barely lessened and her glare remained even. Almost deadpan. She opened black lips to mutter, "The former is an option I'd like to remain open just in case." As she spoke, she glanced up to Zalkyviir's eyes for a second. Freylia frowned but nodded, "But as for the latter; that's ridiculous." As she finished speaking, she narrowed her eyes.
Her brow furrowed as she studied them. Her hand stayed resolute holding the dagger sheathed on her waist, though her narrow, glowing eyes scanning Freylia had her slowly inching back behind Zalkyviir.
Finally, it stopped before she actually chose to hide from the startlingly meticulous gaze, and the intensity behind the Vampire's gaze significantly weakened as she spoke, "Who are you?"
"Oh," With a shrug, she just muttered, "I'm Freylia. Freylia Gestor."
"Who sent you here?"
"Uh, I-I sent me here. Not who you were expecting?" She helplessly asked, watching that intensity stir once more.
With narrowed eyes, the Vampire spat a simple, "Why?"
"Knowledge!" Freylia sparked her Magicka, little bits of purple around her hands as she help them up, placating, "I'm a mage; I explore, I learn, that's all!"
"Why here? You had to have a reason."
"I just- I got a lead there was something here."
"What lead, from who-"
"Master, the longer we wait the more she recovers. If she gets comfortable in her abilities I may not be able to take that scroll from her."
Dagger finally drawn, the elven metal gleamed as the Vampire held it back-handed, her other hand sparking with lightning, "You won't take it period." Zalkyviir grinned a growl and lifted his poleaxe. Freylia looked between them both with rapid worry; seeing that Zalkyviir was about to simply go for it and that the Vampire was baring fangs and readying herself, Freylia made a snap decision.
With a flare of purple and black flames, she banished Zalkyviir back to Oblivion.
A long moment passed in silence. With her hands outstretched and frozen as her spell ended, her eyes fading blue from their conjuration-shift, Freylia's mouth slowly gaped as the silence got louder. The Vampire's bared fangs were hidden beneath her black lips and her scowl was instead a frown; though her eyes were wide and so obviously surprised, even shocked. Her body remained half-crouched for a fight, grip on her dagger still tight, but her Magicka had similarly ceased.
Freylia blinked.
"Oh… oh crap." She flinched into movement, her hands pulling back slowly as at once she stutteringly stepped back, mouth working soundlessly as she kept her eyes squarely on the Vampire.
Who, as she watched, stood straight once more; in light of Zalkyviir's massive stature not putting her in shadow, Freylia realised she was actually quite tall. About a whole head taller than herself at least. She slid her dagger away slowly, the other hand coming somewhat forward as if to reassure, though her features were still somewhat confused.
Finally, Freylia managed to ask, "Why-… why were you locked in there?" Her voice was quiet, careful, and her hands were fidgeting subtly by her sides. Her eyes were right on the Vampire's, lest the intensity get to her alone as she was. That and maybe she'd insult her by looking her in the eyes, maybe that was a Vampire thing? She hadn't done much research on them and that was just a no good stupid thing to do- Speak. "I mean… I expected, I don't know, maybe a book? Not- Not a vampire." She blinked, "Uh, to be the secret knowledge that was here I mean." She blinked, again speaking without sound, and then nodded with a sigh, "The uh, the Elder Scroll was the meaning there." Her eyes went wide when she heard a leathery scabbard shift, "Oh, b-but-!" She raised her hands, smiling as well as she could with how scared she was, and the words tumbled, "That is yours, all yours! The Elder Scroll is not ripe for the picking it belongs to a Vampire! Or, n-no you're not just a vampire, I- you-…"
Her hands dropped, frown dull and near to quivering.
"I don't want another Vampire to try and eat me please, it really hurt."
"I'm not going to eat you." Freylia's head barely started to shift, then there was a shrug from ahead of her, "At worst I'd drink you." With that her head snapped up; eyes like Sigil-Stones as her hands started glowing again. The Vampire's hands were raised placatingly, however, and she smiled, "I was trying to lighten the mood. I don't remember the last time I talked to someone that wasn't either family or a servant of. So, I'm rusty."
What the hell was this rough-and-tumble friendliness?
Freylia's eyes were blue again, hands frozen mid-concentration on magic that was no longer there. She was hit hard by the sudden shift in personality. With something that would've resembled awkwardness on a lesser creature because of course a Vampire like this couldn't feel that; she blinked, started speaking, stopped, then cleared her throat and completely switched the subject back.
"It's… complicated, why I'm here." She blinked, looking around slowly and more with her eyes than her head. Freylia jumped and froze at once when those glowing eyes snapped to the side to see her, then the Vampire's head turned back to face her proper, "Tell you what."
"…W-What?"
"Help me get home and I'll give you the whole story."
Again, Freylia paused before speaking, "Home?" In another small voice, "Where-uhm… Where is home?"
"My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I'd… imagine, they still do." She actually seemed unsure, glancing around at the cave; maybe the very rock formation had changed since the last time she saw it? Who knows how old she is, "Help me get there and I'll tell you everything." She shrugged with one shoulder, "Most things."
Flabbergasted even now by the sheer strangeness of this situation, Freylia nodded, slow to start and stuttering to complete, and then she flinched with a hand was suddenly lifted towards her.
"My name's Serana, by the way." She spoke with eyes not narrowed and a smile not forced; a face of genuine friendliness framed by coldly-pale skin, glowing eyes, and the hint of fangs between dark lips, "Good to meet you, after the Dremora was gone that is."
Slowly reaching her hand out, as if still wary that this was all some unneeded trick, Freylia was then shaking hands with a Vampire, "Yeah… Uhm, besides how scared I am, good to meet you too."