[A/N] ... Okay, I'm really sorry for not updating for two whole weeks. One, I was in Spain for a week (and what a fantastic week that was), and two, the beginning of March has just sucked as far as schoolwork goes. So I was really determined to get a chapter up this week, even if it sucked.
At least, I don't think this chapter sucks. But I'll let you be the judge of that.
[DISCLAIMER] I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim or anything related to it; that's Bethesda's deal, not mine (sadly). However, Ronan Sorleigh and "Nightingale" are my original characters, and they belong to me.
CHAPTER XXV – Soul of Darkness (Part III)
The first thing that Ronan noticed was the air – it almost felt solid, sinking down into his lungs like a heavy stone. He tried to force his breath out, but it refused to rise; panicking, he attempted to exhale again, pain pricking his sides with the force.
Suddenly, his breath rushed out all at once, the weight in his chest relieved, and he gasped for air, nearly doubling over. Too late, he saw the crumbling, disjointed stairs floating in the air beneath him and realized he was falling –
Two cold hands caught his shoulders and righted him with surprising strength. The Breton reeled back, his heart pounding hard as fought the urge to look down. That was too close...
"Are you all right?" Serana asked from behind him; she sounded worried.
"I think so," he managed. "I – I couldn't breathe for a moment."
Only the Ideal Masters trying to claim your soul, Nocturnal said matter-of-factly. It's not often that someone living passes through their domain; they seemed quite curious.
Ronan shuddered. Please tell me you're continuing to keep them at bay.
He could almost imagine Her eyebrow arching. Those were the terms of our arrangement, were they not... Champion?
The vampire carefully let go of him, stepping out from behind him to scan ahead, her expression dismayed. "Look at the sky," she murmured. "What kind of place is this?"
He raised his eyes to where she pointed – at the purple sky roiling ominously overhead – and then leveled his gaze. Stretching out before them was a bleak landscape, shrouded in murky mists. From above, Ronan could see the craggy black skeletons of trees and the tops of crumbling ruins that emerged from the mist; far beyond lay an immense black wall, crowned with broken turrets. And all along the ground, pale, indistinct shapes flitted in and out of view.
"I feel terrible for the dead who end up here for eternity," Serana said quietly, "but I can't imagine anyone besides the dead living here. This – this is an awful place."
The Breton nodded. "I don't even know the first place to start looking for your mother and the Scroll," he confessed. "The Soul Cairn is... much larger than I expected."
The vampire didn't respond.
"Serana?" Ronan glanced over at her. "What is it?" Now that I willingly accepted the favor of a Daedric Prince, is she loathe to travel with me?
Serana sighed. "It's just – I was thinking about my mother. This whole venture... it's starting to make me a little nervous, if you want to know the truth."
"How so?"
"My mother was no coward, but that didn't mean that she was foolhardy, especially where her experiments into necromancy were concerned." Her golden eyes betrayed her worry. "I can't imagine a better place to escape to, but she knew about the perils of the Soul Cairn. What if she just meant to hide the Elder Scroll here and return to Tamriel?"
The Breton frowned. "But wouldn't she be in danger from your father then?"
"I don't know whether she considered the Ideal Masters or my father the lesser of two evils, so to speak," the vampire responded. "But if all I've read about the Ideal Masters is true – if they somehow trapped my mother here – if they –" Her voice broke off and she glanced away briefly before continuing. "I just hope she's all right. We need to find her; I need to find her."
"Agreed." Ronan started down the steps, watching his footing very carefully. "When we find Valerica, though... what if she doesn't have the Elder Scroll?"
"Then we find out where she hid it." Serana followed him down. "My mother would probably have it with her. I can't imagine her being separated from it – not willingly, at least."
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the Breton turned back and took the vampire's hand, giving it a small squeeze before helping her down. "We'll find her, Serana. From what you've told me about your mother, she sounds clever enough to survive for... well, a long time."
Serana smiled slightly, but it wasn't enough to replace her apprehensive manner. "I just hope she didn't prove too clever for her own good."
Eager to get off the subject, Ronan pointed ahead, above the mists and towards the great black wall in the distance. "What do you think that is? A fortress of some kind?" he guessed. "Maybe that's where the Ideal Masters live – for lack of a better word."
The vampire shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that the Ideal Masters are corporeal beings. In all my readings, no one's ever said what they looked like. They could be flying above us, or underground... maybe they are the ground; I have no idea."
"I hope we don't have the chance to find that out," the Breton commented, laughing weakly.
A soft voice came from behind them. "If you continue to disturb their domain, you might."
Both he and Serana whipped around, the vampire summoning twin ice spikes over her palms and Ronan's hands going to the hilts of his daggers.
A spirit, pale and translucent, stood behind them. Judging from the slight stature and the long, thick braid over one shoulder, it had been a woman once. Large, clear eyes gazed at them from a careworn face that still held some beauty, even in her state.
"Who are you?" Serana asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "What's your name and what do you know about the Ideal Masters?"
"My name," the woman repeated quietly, her brow furrowing. "I – I knew it once. I knew who I was, what my life was, but now..." She sighed. "This godsforsaken place may have my soul, but my memories are deserting me, one by one." She peered at Ronan, her eyes thoughtful. "But you... you are familiar to me somehow."
The vampire glanced over at him. "Do you know her?" she whispered, confused.
"Maybe," the Breton said slowly. Strangely enough, the spirit seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place her. Where do I recognize her from?
"It's been a long time... Gervais." The spirit smiled slightly.
Suddenly, he remembered that smile: the one so dazzling in the morning sun, aimed at two Riften guards by a woman in brown Guild leathers... a woman who saved him from prison. "You!" he exclaimed as the memory came rushing back. "I – I know you!"
"I thought you would." The spirit's smile turned a bit melancholy. "I'd hoped you would not forget me. I – I prayed that we would meet again, some day, but... not like this."
"How did you end up here?" Ronan asked tentatively.
Her smile faded entirely. "My soul was trapped by the one who freed me," she said simply. "I – I don't think that he meant to do me harm, but..." She cast her gaze around the Soul Cairn. "This is not the afterlife I had wished for myself." The spirit turned back to him. "But somehow, I don't think this is your afterlife. Unlike your companion, you are still living."
"We're searching for someone," Serana said, desperation tingeing her voice. "My mother, Valerica, a vampire of the Volkihar bloodline. Have you seen her at all?"
"The one that the dragon guards? Yes, I know who she is."
Serana and Ronan exchanged startled glances. "A dragon?" the Breton echoed.
"The Ideal Masters' little pet. I don't know what its name is, but it calls itself Durnehviir, and it only seems to fly around the ruins that I've seen the vampire in."
"So Mother was trapped by the Ideal Masters," Serana murmured fearfully. "The situation is worse than I thought. Please," she begged, addressing the spirit, "can you show us where my mother is? We need to reach her."
The spirit smiled. "I can take you there myself."
Serana let out a pent-up breath, her tension briefly alleviated. "Thank you –" She paused. "What shall we call you by, if you can't give us your name?"
The spirit thought for a moment. Then: "'Nightingale' will serve. After the bird of Nocturnal." She flitted past them, stepping over the barren ground with a light step. "Follow me and please stay close. There are many perils to be avoided in this place."
With every step he took, Ronan had been constantly fighting the urge to turn around and run back to the stairway to Valerica's laboratory as fast as he could. But now that Nightingale had guided him and Serana past the immense black wall, now that they were this deep in the Soul Cairn, he feared that if he panicked now, he would be swallowed up by this malevolent realm for good.
Your fears are unfounded, Ronan, Nocturnal chided gently. You are under my protection, remember? The Ideal Masters cannot harm you.
And what about Serana? he asked, his eyes focusing ahead. Serana was trailing closely behind Nightingale, looking about the Soul Cairn warily, her eyes watching for any signs of movement.
The Daedric Prince made an indelicate sound. What about your vampire?
Is she protected from the Ideal Masters as well? If they went after her mother, then she's in just as much danger.
Nocturnal sighed. Still worrying about her safety? I'd have thought you'd be more concerned with – what is it that she calls herself? – "Nightingale." She chuckled. Don't you think it strange that the woman who set you on the path to becoming a thief should be here?
A chill passed through the Breton. What are You saying? he demanded.
That is for you to decide, She purred.
Nightingale's voice intruded on his thoughts. "We're here."
Ronan stopped in his tracks, looking up at the building of black stone before him. Had it not been for its location in the Soul Cairn, he would have said that it looked almost like a church, with its pointed roof and spires and the three stairways leading up to an elaborate doorway. But the twin bell towers were crumbling and broken off at the top, with strange beams of pale purple light shooting out towards the darkening, swirling sky, and the entrance was barricaded off by a curtain of the same kind of light.
A prison, the Breton realized grimly. So Serana's theory was correct...
Somewhere in the shadows by the tall double doors, something moved.
Serana reacted first. "Mother?" She dashed up one of the sets of stairs, taking the steps two at a time, then stopping abruptly before she reached the barrier. "Mother, can you hear me?"
Leaving Nightingale at the foot of the stairs, Ronan followed her, ascending the stairs just in time to see a tall, proud woman emerge from underneath the shadow of an archway. He was struck by how similar she looked to Serana – same coloring, same facial structure, even armor similar to her daughter's – but Valerica's hair was gathered on top of her head like a crown, and her golden eyes were cold and suspicious.
She caught sight of them and her eyes widened, the hostility draining from them. "Maker, it can't be," she murmured. "Serana? Is that you?"
"Mother!" For the first time since they'd entered the Soul Cairn, hope was on Serana's face. "How do we get inside? We need to talk to you!"
"Serana, what are you doing here? Where's your father?" Valerica sounded almost fearful.
"He doesn't know we're here. I – I really don't have time to explain –"
Her mother cut her off, her face grim. "I've failed, haven't I? After all this time, Harkon's finally found a way to decipher the prophecy."
"No – no, you've got it all wrong," Serana pleaded. "We're here to stop him – to make everything right."
"'We'?" Valerica asked archly. "Are you not alone?"
In silent response, Ronan tentatively stepped forward, into the light given off by the barrier.
Valerica's eyes snapped to Ronan, narrowing at the sight of him, and then her cold gaze went back to Serana. "Serana, have you lost your mind?" she hissed. "Who is this man?"
"Ronan's a friend, Mother," Serana insisted. "He's –"
"– a mortal, one belonging to Nocturnal? And a vampire hunter, no less," Valerica spat. "Do not tell me that you cannot smell the blood of our kin on him, that you cannot sense the darkness in him."
"Mother, you don't understand," Serana pleaded. "Please, let me –"
"You!" Valerica turned her attention back to Ronan. "Come forward. I would speak with you." Her tone held a threatening undercurrent.
Steeling himself, the Breton hesitantly moved a little bit closer to the barrier, trying not to look intimidated by the vampire.
Valerica crossed her arms. "What is your name?"
"Ronan Sorleigh," he answered, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded.
"Ronan Sorleigh," Valerica repeated, almost mockingly, "how has it come to pass that one such as you are in the company of my daughter? I will not lie: it pains me to think that you'd travel with Serana under the guise of her... protector in an effort to hunt more of us down."
Ronan swallowed his anger. "This is no ruse," he said. "I want to help Serana."
"Coming from one who murders vampires as a trade, I find it hard to believe that your intentions are noble." Her voice was bitterly sardonic. "I have sacrificed everything to keep Serana safe, to keep my fool of a husband from completing the prophecy. I would have expected her to explain that to you."
"She has, and I understand," the Breton insisted. "That's why we're here. We need an Elder Scroll – one of the ones that shows part of the prophecy."
Valerica's gaze hardened further. "You think I'd have the audacity to place my own daughter in Dimhollow Crypt for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone? The scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself."
Ronan frowned. "What – what do you mean?"
"Ah, so she did not tell you that much," Valerica mused, glancing at Serana before turning her attention back to him. "When I fled Castle Volkihar with Serana, I was in the possession of two Elder Scrolls. One scroll – the one that I presume you found with Serana herself – speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel's Bow. The other declares that 'the Blood of Coldharbour's Daughter will Blind the Eye of the Dragon.'"
"And what does Serana have to do with this?" the Breton asked.
"My daughter and I were both human once, long ago, and devout worshippers of Lord Molag Bal – and tradition dictates that female worshippers be offered to Him on His summoning day." Valerica's face was impassive, and her words careful. "Few survive the ordeal, but those who do emerge as full-blooded vampires, blessed with a gift of blood by our Lord Himself. Such confluences are called 'Daughters of Coldharbour.'"
Ronan's breath caught in his throat as his mind fitted together the pieces: first from Serana's retelling, and then from Valerica's. "Are you saying that the Tyranny of the Sun requires Serana's blood for it to be fulfilled?"
"And now you see why I wanted to protect my daughter, and why I wanted to keep the last of the Elder Scrolls as far away from her as possible," Valerica said, her tone blunt.
And then the impact of it truly dawned on him. "Harkon means to kill her?"
"If Harkon obtained Auriel's Bow, and Serana's blood was used to taint the arrows, one shot would render the Tyranny of the Sun complete. In his eyes, she'd be dying for the good of all vampires." Valerica's lip curled in disgust.
The Breton glanced over at Serana, but her hair had fallen across her face, obscuring it from him. His heart ached for her plight. To know that your own parents would use you – kill you – to gain power or to bring about their own ends...
"I won't let that happen," he insisted, turning back to Valerica. "I'll stop Harkon somehow."
Serana raised her head, looking over with an emotion in her eyes that he could not place.
Valerica merely arched an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
"I don't know," Ronan confessed, "but we'll need your help. If you can show us where the Elder Scroll is –"
"Have you not been listening to me?" Valerica interrupted, irritated. "I am also a Daughter of Coldharbour, and my presence on Tamriel is as much a danger as Serana's is. I cannot return."
"Not even to save your own daughter?" the Breton asked quietly.
"Do not dare to presume that I do not care for Serana!" Valerica snarled suddenly. "You, on the other hand, care nothing for Serana or our plight. You are only here because we're abominations in your mind, evils to be destroyed for the good of humankind and the favor of Nocturnal."
"That's not true!" Ronan shouted, unable to contain himself any longer. "Yes, I have hunted and killed vampires. Yes, I'm Nocturnal's Champion. But those alone do not define me." He took a deep breath, forcing his voice level. "I don't want the world to be plunged into night, and I'm helping Serana to make sure that Harkon doesn't do just that. Is that really so hard for you to believe?"
Valerica did not look convinced as she turned towards Serana and addressed her in a voice that could have frozen fire. "Serana, this – this mortal aligns himself with our enemies, both those on Nirn who would hunt you down and slay you like an animal and those in Oblivion with the power to challenge Molag Bal. Give me one good reason why I should trust him."
"This 'mortal,' as you say, has done more for me in the brief time I've known him than you've done for me in centuries." Serana's voice was not raised, but there was no mistaking the rage in it; it surprised Ronan greatly.
Apparently, it had the same effect on her mother. "How dare you!" she hissed. "I gave up everything that I cared about – everything! – to protect you from that fanatic you call 'father'!"
"I know, Mother!" Serana cried out. "I know Harkon's changed. But – but he's still my father. You're both still my parents." Her face was anguished. "To be left in the dark by both of you, only to see the light when it's too late for me to do anything but agree... why can't you understand how that makes me feel?"
Valerica was shaking her head. "Oh, Serana. If only you'd open your eyes. The moment that Harkon discovers your role in the prophecy – that he realizes that he needs your blood – you'd be in terrible danger."
"And so you decided to shut me away and hope he'd never find me?" Serana finished bitterly. "I have news for you, Mother: it didn't work. Harkon's court was on the verge of finding me, and – and I think that's because he already suspected my role in the prophecy." Her voice broke. "If Ronan hadn't gotten to me first, there's no telling what might have happened."
Valerica's eyes flashed to Ronan briefly in surprise. "Serana, I –"
"You never asked me my opinion on any of this, about whether or not hiding in Dimhollow was the best course of action," Serana continued angrily, cutting her off. "You might have explained your plan to me, but you didn't expect me to question you: just to nod my head and go along.
"Both of you – you and Harkon – you're obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end, I'm still just a pawn to you, too." She swallowed, and the Breton thought he saw tears coming to her eyes. "I want us to be a family again, but... I don't know if we can ever have that. Maybe we don't deserve that kind of happiness.
"But I do know this: we have to stop my father before he goes too far." She looked her mother directly in the eye. "And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll."
Valerica dropped her gaze. "Serana – my daughter –" she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I – I didn't know – I didn't see that – that I've allowed my hatred of Harkon to estrange us for too long. Please," she begged, stepping up to the barrier, "forgive me."
"I do," Serana said softly, the tears running down her face now. "Oh, mother, I do." She reached out, her fingertips barely touching the curtain of light.
A ghost of a smile on her face, Valerica brought up her hand as well in the same gesture. "If you want the Elder Scroll, it's yours. But it is not quite as simple as that." Her smile faded as she addressed Ronan. "Your intentions are still somewhat unclear to me. But for Serana's sake, I'll assist you in any way that I can."
"Thank you," Ronan said honestly. "Do you know where the Elder Scroll is? Do you have it with you here in the Soul Cairn?"
Something in Valerica's face softened a little at hearing his thanks. "Yes. I've kept it secured here since my imprisonment."
"By the Ideal Masters?" Serana asked.
"Truth be told, it's mostly my fault. But yes: this was their doing," Valerica sighed. "When I entered the Soul Cairn, I intended to try and strike a bargain with the Ideal Masters. I requested refuge here, and in return, I would provide them with the souls that they craved." She shook her head. "But if I had foreseen the value that the Masters placed on my own soul, I would never have tried for such an accord. The Ideal Masters unleashed their Keepers to destroy me and claim my soul for their own.
"Fortunately, I was able to hold them at bay and take refuge in these ruins, where the Keepers could not reach me. So they had their minions construct this barrier you see before you, one I'd never be able to breach. But you two happen to be in a position to bring it down."
"How?" Serana asked.
"There are several rocky spires that surround these ruins. At their bases, the barrier's energy is being drawn from the life force of the unfortunate souls who have been exiled here. If you destroy the Keepers who are guarding them, it should be enough to bring the barrier down."
Serana nodded. "Don't worry, Mother. We'll get you out."
"A word of caution," Valerica warned. "There is a dragon that calls itself Durnehviir roaming the Cairn. The Ideal Masters have charged him with overseeing the Keepers, and he will undoubtedly interfere if he considers you a threat."
"We've been warned about him," Ronan said, "and we'll definitely be careful." I have no desire to fight a dragon. That's Kajsa's business, not mine.
"By who?" Valerica asked, frowning.
"A spirit who guided us here," Serana supplied. "She doesn't remember much of how she was in life, but she calls herself 'Nightingale.'"
Valerica nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I know of her. We have met before; she sometimes keeps me company here." She sighed. "Poor woman. I do not envy her fate."
"Don't pity me while I'm standing here, Lady Valerica," Nightingale said lightly, stepping up beside Serana and Ronan. "And you likely will not meet a fate like mine."
Valerica smiled wryly. "True. Thank you for guiding my daughter here."
"Do you know where these spires are?" Serana asked the spirit. "The ones that the Keepers guard?"
Nightingale nodded gravely. "I do, but I dare not go near them. The Keepers will catch any soul found wandering near there and use what's left of them to give life to this barrier." Turning, she pointed out over the Soul Cairn in three different directions. "The spires are not far from here. If you hurry, you may avoid reinforcements."
"Thank you for your aid. We'll set out right away." Ronan made to leave.
"Sorleigh?" Valerica's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Be careful... and keep my daughter safe." The concern in her voice was evident. "She is everything I have left. If I lose her –"
"You won't," Ronan promised. "I'll keep her safe."
Valerica's gaze softened, but there was still some wariness in it. "I almost believe you," she murmured, turning away. "Now go, and don't make me regret placing my daughter in your hands."
[A/N] Thanks for reading, please don't hesitate to leave a review, and I will hopefully be back next week!