Chapter revised 31/12/2017; please see chapter 11.
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Howdy, Folks, how's it going?
I hope you all had pleasant holidays.
Right, so, here's the thing.
I have kinda made it into a tradition of sorts to always release a chapter for this story in the last day of the year.
This year however, most of my focus went to the next chapter of "Of Red Petals and Black Feathers", and between that and some other stuff, I have been a little pressed for time.
That said, what follows is not so much a chapter as it is an interlude, a little something that hints at things to come.
I hope that you all enjoy it.
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It was a cold night.
The biting winds roiled and danced around the snow-covered land.
And around the grey castle that stood atop it.
It was a majestic building of stone, located in an isolated outgrowth of a steep, rocky cliff by the sea, a fortress that withstood the tests of time and calamity even as the land around crumbled and collapsed.
Once, not too long ago, its age was sadly apparent, chipped pathways and cracked, ruined areas abound. The very city in close proximity to the place had been little more than a ghost town, a Hold in barely more than name.
But, as observed by a lone figure admiring the night atop the castle's balustrades, this was no longer the case.
The castle, once so decayed, was now splendorous, fully reflecting the glory it once had, and once more deserved.
The town below, once barely more than a few buildings, was alive again, growing steadily with each day passing, and even at this late hour booming with activity, if the firelights that could be seen even from here were anything to go by.
Even a recluse such as herself could only marvel at the change that had been wrought upon Winterhold.
And she could only briefly smirk at the thought of the one who had made it all possible.
The one who had done so many things to help so many people, herself included, something that honestly still to this day surprised her.
The one who was missing.
She had been among the first to notice His absence, and had been among the first to conduct searches.
Alone, she had had no luck, and thus, somewhat reluctantly given her… condition, she reached out to others He had marked, in the same way He marked her.
The Companions of Whiterun knew not of His whereabouts, nor did the loyal (and that was putting it mildly) Housecarl of the Thane.
The Dawnguard had been just as clueless.
The Blades not only did not know, they also apparently made an effort not to care.
The Bards College and the Thieves Guild had been Dead Ends.
As had been the High Queen and the Jarls, though to be fair, they had extended their aid in her search.
And the so-called Augur of Dunlain, when she finally resorted to consulting it, merely replied that He was "where He was supposed to be".
Luckily for everybody, His disappearance hadn't caused any panic or distress among the general populace. He did have an… unfortunate reputation to disappear for long periods of time, and many had just assumed He was off somewhere doing as He always did, saving lives and performing deeds of song and legend.
Not too unlikely an idea, she recognized, but she did know Him better than most, and she knew He wouldn't just vanish without warning anyone. That had been what spurred her to search.
But only when she approached the mages of Winterhold had she found someone as determined to discover what had befallen Him as she was.
And after an agreement to pool their resources, a breakthrough finally occurred.
It was with a dwindling hope for success, that she had ventured into the Soul Cairn a second time, seeking the aid of the one Being who might hold the answer she sought, and for once luck had favoured her.
Durnehviir told her where He was, told her of how He had ended up there, and most importantly, told her that He was safe and sound.
By the Nine and Lord Molag Bal, trust HIM of all people to suddenly be flung into other worlds…
Once she had taken this information to the College, theories were made, research was conducted, and ultimately, a choice was made.
Now, she need only wait…
"Serana." A kind, elderly voiced called.
Broken out of her musings, Serana Volkihar turned towards the voice, to find an elderly Nord standing not too far, his hair as greyish white as the surrounding mountains and mismatched eyes of green and hazel, smiling kindly at her.
"The preparations are done, Child. It is time."
That drew a soft chuckle from her lips. She was quite easily one of the oldest beings alive in this Era. Compared to her, this elder didn't even qualify as a child, but it seemed that the man before her had taken after Him in how he treated her.
She liked Tolfdir, though, he was one of the few humans who never thought any less of her for what she was.
"Of course." She replied good-naturedly. "Lead on, Old Man."
With that, the Old Nord led her into the College, leading her through its stairs and pathways. Occasionally, they crossed clusters of beings, young and old, masters and students, of every race and every rank, but other than a few curious glances, they had been left alone.
It did surprise her how quickly her presence had been accepted as nothing unusual, but then again, she had Him vouching for her.
Pretty soon, they had reached the Hall of Elements, the grand hall where the teachers and lecturers passed their knowledge on to the younger generations.
It was now empty, except for the few figures that awaited them, while putting the finishing touches in a complex array of runic markings that had been drawn on the floor.
"Finally." A wizened old Orc (and hadn't it been a surprise seeing one of their kind embracing magic…) grumbled. "The Vampire's here, now where's the Cat?"
"Patience, Urag." Tolfdir stated calmly as he approached. "J'Zargo is finishing his own preparations".
"And isn't that a strange thought." A feminine voice interjected with a chuckle, coming from a woman with dark grey skin, pointed ears and blood red-eyes.
"Too true, Brelyna." Another man said as he joined the laughter, before adding theatrically. "The Great J'Zargo needs no preparations."
"J'Zargo thinks he's being slandered by jealous mouths." Another voice joined in from the entrance. "Truly J'Zargo's greatness is too great for your feeble minds to grasp."
The speaker was a Khajiit, his grey spotted fur and feline features reminiscent of a snow lynx. He was the only one besides Serana that wasn't wearing the robes of a mage, opting instead for an enchanted set of Steel Armor.
And while the discussion might sound acerbic to an outsider, Serana knew that for J'Zargo, Brelyna and Onmund, it was all harmless banter.
"About time J'Zargo decided to grace us with his presence." Onmund continued with a grin. "I trust that all is ready?"
"But of course, J'Zargo has prepared for all eventualities."
"That is good." Serana stated. "But are you certain you wish to do this?"
The Khajiit snorted at her question.
"Of course. What kind of a rival would J'Zargo be, if he was not willing to thread where the Archmage went? You and J'Zargo, we look for him together."
"Well spoken." Tolfdir smiled in approval. "But that said, do be careful. Even with what Revered Durnehviir told us, we know next to nothing of this… Remnant. Do strive to stay out of trouble."
"J'Zargo is offended." The catman deadpanned. "J'Zargo does not get into trouble. That is Tristard's thing."
The statement drew a laugh from everyone present, even the wizened Orcish Librarian. Mainly because it was not entirely untrue.
"Well then, let us begin."
As Tolfdir, Urag, Brelyna and Onmund all took their places in the 4 corners of the runic array, Serana and J'Zargo stood at its edge.
The chamber grew quiet.
Then, Tolfdir began chanting in an ancient, almost forgotten language. One by one, the other 3 followed.
Power began coalescing around the chamber.
Slowly, a faint blue glow spread across the runes and lines and circles on the floor, growing in intensity as the chanting grew louder.
At the center of the room, a spark sizzled in the air.
And again.
And again, growing stronger each time.
As the crescendo reached its highest point, an indistinct, blue orb manifested, then quickly spread open into a gate not unlike a conjuration spell.
"It worked!"
"Good, that's one problem dealt with."
"Aye, but we can't keep it up much longer, so you'd best hurry!"
"Indeed." Tolfdir agreed, before addressing the duo near the ritual. "Now, it is all up to you 2. Find our Archmage."
"It will be done." J'Zargo stated confidently, while Serana nodded.
"May the Nine watch over you."
At that, the unlikely duo of a Khajiit Mage and a Vampire Lord approached the center of this experimental ritual.
With a glance and a nod at each other, they stepped forward into the portal and the unknown beyond.
'We're coming, Tristard.'
And with them gone, the light died down, the portal vanished, and silence once more filled the chamber.
Exhausted, Tolfdir let out a weary sigh, before repeating the prayer he felt was well deserved.
"May the Nine watch over you all…"
/
And that's that.
Serana and J'Zargo are making their way to Remnant.
Get Hyped, Folks.
I feel the need to point out that this will NOT turn into TristardxSerana! They are close, but the relationship is strictly platonic
In 2017, this story will begin with my first ever attempt at an Original Story Arc, featuring Team RWBYS and Team CFVY working together.
And before that, I will update "Through the Eternities".
And with, that there's nothing left but to wish you all a Happy New Year.
Cya all on the next one.