[A/N]: Hey guys, I just want to thank all my followers; you guys truly mean the world to me! Thanks for all the reviews and the support. I would like to make a special thanks to Blue, she has been so helpful with this story.

Also I just wanted to say that chapters will be coming out just a little slower now, not by much; I wanted to make it my goal to have one chapter every five days. That gives you guys have enough time to read and review my chapters; I don't want anyone to fall behind. Here we go...

[DISCLAIMER]: I don't own the Elder Scrolls Series or Bethesda so I'm just giving them the credit they deserve, but Arela and Enden are my characters.

~Skillet, Monster

I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

Her eyes jutted open and for the second time in one day Arela woke up with no recollection of where she was. Again she was lying on a grimy floor next to a pile of rubble. She felt the grit under her nails and the ache behind her eyes but at least Arela wasn't surrounded by Skooma addicts this time.

Arela's sore eyes roamed the room; her vision was blurry at first. After blinking repeatedly her eyes became clearer and everything began to seem brighter and more vivid as everything was stretching before her.

Her eyes saw with a blinding clarity that before she couldn't have even managed to explain. It was painful as the colors of the world screamed at her, announcing their existence and the details of a crack in the stone floors made their way into her acknowledgment.

Her eyes were like that of a newborn, they felt new and unused, even the dullest of details seemed thrilling and interesting.

The room around her appeared to be a cathedral, with a few windows exposing the room to an amount of fragmented, scattered light. The dust floated through the murky room and settled on mighty and frightening statues made of worn stone and nightmares.

The light touched the room in frightening ways, it decorated the room, drawing attention to the grotesque shapes of the unmoving stone gargoyles that littered it, the dried blood that stained the floor and the shadows that seemed darker.

She saw fleshless corpses laying on the floor in front of her and she almost wished she had been blind folded, or left in the dark. The ivory bones crumbled when she moved away, some were old and some were fresh, but they were picked clean by their predators. Arela bit her lip, to calm the nervous tension pulsing inside her.

Arela knew she was different now. She wondered if anything about her was the same anymore, the way she moved when she stood was silky and catlike. The feeling of stone felt colder and rougher when she ran her fingers along it to test its texture, and her eyes were sharper than an eagle's.

Darting her head around the room, she found herself a murky puddle of water. Kneeling down she looked and looked, but the more she looked, the less she could recognize.

Her eyes frightened her the most.

She looked like a painting done by a madman, her skin was the color of the bones at her feet, and her eyes the color of the bloodstains. The faintest of life could be detected on her cheeks in a mild tone of pink.

Her eyes flickered in the reflection, flecked with orange and yellow; her sensational new vision was gifted beside burning eyes.

Pale blue veins littered her white neck, dancing under her translucent skin, caressing the curves in her throat. She put her hand to her small neck in shock.

She was so frightening to look at, yet her fingers glided across her skin like silk, it was soft and faultless, and she pulled her fingertips to her face and tested her new features.

Arela pulled her darker lips back, revealing a feature she expected but still felt a tremble run through her when she saw – pearly teeth, and much sharper than before. She had two fangs on either side of her top row stretched down in dangerous sharp spikes.

Running her tongue along her new mouth, she tasted the metallic copper of her own blood and shuddered.

Everything seemed foreign to Arela. The face she had once been accustoming to seeing and had loved had been dismantled, and reconstructed into something that somewhat resembled her.

She felt like it was a dream, that the face she saw was not her own, the unfamiliarity of it was overwhelming; she was like a beautiful animal – a predator. She searched her face again, and in her now brightly burning eyes she could still see the fervor she always kept locked away inside.

Arela turned away, and noticed that the empty room was now filled with another singular presence. Harkon stood at the end of the cathedral with his arms glued together in angst and his eyes piercing hers.

Arela's gaze was called to a shrine next to Harkon, where blood flowed from it like water, endlessly pouring into a pool. There was a foul face carved into the shrine, she knew of the daedric Lord of Domination, the Father of Immortals, and those were his features carved into the fountain of blood.

Arela forced her stiff legs to move cautiously over toward Harkon and the foul shrine of Molag Bal.

"Awake at last, good. I would have been quite... disappointed if you wouldn't have survived. I would have lost a new valuable asset." Harkon remarked elatedly. "The power is growing within you, and now you must now learn to wield it." He said calmly, but his eyes glowed with anticipation.

"What happened?" She looked up at the towering man. "How did I get here?" Her voice was shaky but it stood firmly on her lips.

"My blood is potent. At first, the body is overwhelmed by it. After my bite you collapsed on the floor and fell into a slumber. Now your flesh has acclimated to the new blood that courses through your veins. I assure you, no harm was done." His smirk was twisted between wicked and a slightly provocative smile. "In truth your strength surprises me, no mortal has been able to survive my... embrace."

Arela felt passionate rage throb through her, she knew that death was close by when she accepted his gift, but she never knew she was at its doorstep. Her white fists clenched and she attempted deep breaths, one word out of turn might cost her an eternity of a life not worth breathing for.

"Then how did you turn the other vampires in your court?" Arela asked. She was unsure if the past was a border not to cross.

"The senior members were not turned by me, they were turned by my wife – Valerica," he spat the name out as if it were distasteful. "The younger members were turned by other members of the court or I turned them, but they were all weak blooded vampires, wishing for me to award my gift to them. Weak blooded vampires aren't overwhelmed by my blood, because I'm not granting them any real gift, not like what you have received." There was a small pause, and Harkon's eyes became like chips of golden ice; his expression was a cold sorrow.

"I have tried to turn a few mortals in the past, but their mortal forms were too weak. They could not withstand my strength but you – you are curious indeed."

"Well, I guess that makes me one of a kind," she implied giving him an arrogant grin.

"Perhaps, keep your thoughts in balance, however. I am the lord of this court and you will do well to remember, or lessons shall be taught of obedience." His voice was stern and hard, brutality bled through every syllable.

She stammered on her words, not wanting to appear weak and pitiful but the vampire lord had an iron face and iron fists to strangle out any word said against him. He was not to be trifled with, but she wanted a firm ground. Before she even knew what her capabilities were, she knew it was best to stay silent and observe.

"As to answer your other question we are at the shrine to the mighty daedric prince Molag Bal, he is father to all our kind. Our power is a blessing from him. It is he who first bestowed the gift of the ancient blood upon me."

"You made a pact with Molag Bal?" Arela asked in an inquisitive tone.

Arela herself had made a pact with a daedra; taking a promise with a daedric lord is not a shallow promise, it is a curse and a gift in the same package. Nocturnal, her Lady Luck, made a pact with her and two others as Nightingales so that they would receive her favor, the price to pay in return was not much, in this life.

Harkon shot Arela back to reality with his powerful throat that could rival even a dragon's.

"In an age long forgotten to history, I ruled as a mighty king, my domain was vast, my riches endless, and my power infinite. And yet as my mortal life neared an end I faced a seemingly invincible enemy – my own mortality."

Arela had a hard time looking at him and considering him old by any standards. He was older than her of course, but he didn't look old enough to be considered close to death. Unless people died younger back then, but Arela thought it was highly unlikely.

"I pledged myself to Molag Bal and in his name I sacrificed a thousand innocents. In reward, he gave everlasting life to me, my wife, and my daughter. And so I have defeated mortality itself." He declared, his words dripping with condescension.

He has major ego issues, she chuckled internally. For some strange reason Arela was finding herself more or less intrigued by his cockiness. His high faith in his abilities was to her almost comforting.

Even if sometimes, he had a bad temperament. Harkon reminded her of Mercer, the one man that had taught her everything about being a thief. Yes, he had been a crude mentor, but it had been precisely what Arela had needed to motivate her. Mercer had known how to push Arela to her limits, and it had been as simple as praise.

Arela fed off the words and encouragement of others, and especially those who had power. Arela was intrigued, how powerful was Harkon?

"I'm curious, how did you become a king?" The question was one that tempted her all along, one she could not resist.

"That's a story for another day, perhaps. Now, are you done asking question so we can move on?" Harkon said, his voice itching with irritation.

"Well, I suppose," she said softly, she was doubtful; Harkon intended to teach her of her new powers but she was intimidated.

"With my guidance you will become a deadly instrument, striking terror into the hearts of mortals wherever you tread." His voice kept its dark, sadistic tone. But Arela was still caught on one word, instrument.

Arela wasn't sure at first how to respond, to his claim, she knew that she was far from a tool. And if she had to she would prove him wrong, so be it. Before Arela could stop herself she blurted out her itching question.

"I am no ones instrument." Arela stated righteously. She wasn't an instrument to anyone, not even a Lord of a castle.

"I will be the judge of that." Harkon sneered coldly. "Now, listen to my words and do exactly as I instruct." He said impatiently. "The true form of the ancient blood is found in the form of the Vampire Lord. Assume the mantle of the Vampire Lord and we will continue."

She couldn't hide her dreaded the thought of transforming into a vicious monster in front of Harkon. Arela looked down at her feet in a skittish habit. "I– I don't know how to transform. I–I" Her stammer was very slow as she was trying to organize her thoughts. She felt ashamed before him, helpless.

Harkon raised his hand in an intolerant manner. Arela couldn't break her stare away from his glimmering yellow eyes, they had her so transfixed she felt as if she was frozen solid.

Harkon frowned, "I will teach you the basics. I expected you to able to pick up lessons faster."

Arela smiled, flashing her new teeth, "I can be an observant learner."

After what seemed like an hour, Arela had gained some coordination in her new 'body', Harkon had taught her the basics about the Vampire Lord, but the power of the Vampire Lord hadn't grown on Arela.

Actually she despised this new form, it left Arela feeling like a monstrosity from a child's book. She had never been so delighted in her life to be herself again when she was able to revert back to her previous form.

But being a vampire was sensational. Arela had superhuman strength; exceptional speed and agility enhanced well passed any mortal. Her other senses were heightened beyond Arela's own comprehension. She could only imagine what it would be like once she could control herself as a vampire. Just the few moments she spent in the blue grey body she felt the power equal to a daedric lord run through her.

She could hear a water droplet hit the floor a hundred feet away. Her sense of smell was so keen she could decipher multiple smells apart, it was almost maddening.

It was disappointing to even think Arela thought her skills were masterful before, but Harkon's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Do you not feel the raw power the vampire has offered you?" He exclaimed as if trying to promote its abilities to her.

"Well, yes I do." Arela uttered, trying desperately not to insult him.

"Now that our lesson is complete I would advise that you meet the members of my court, they are eager to meet you, I'm sure." Harkon was now staring into the distance as if lost in thought.

"You should report to Garan or Feran Sadri from now on until one of them assures me that you are ready for your first true assessment."

There was a short pause. "Oh I must mention that we are Volkihar vampires; we are very different from the weak blooded vampires. Some of the members of the court have rare talents. You might discover soon that you have inherited this trait. Many of my senior members have gifts, as do I. Inform me if you discover you do possess a talent."

"What's your ability then?"

Harkon stiffened at the question before a cloud of anger crossed his face. "My gift is my own, I trust you'll soon learn to not ask so many questions." Harkon exclaimed in rage before turning away and making his way out of the chapel styled room.

"Wait. I'm sorry, but I have one last question!" Arela yelled across the chapel before he left. Harkon spun around. His brilliant golden gaze was resting on her with a demanding demeanor.

"Why did you let me live, I know that mortals don't normally survive this. So why me?" Arela inquired softly, she could not let this opportunity pass, she had to know the truth.

Harkon look at her with an insightful gaze, as if trying to unlock a puzzle. "It's because of your blood." He stated simply before exiting the chapel leaving Arela with her swirling thoughts, and a small amount of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.