[A/N] Sorry about the delay and the shaky chapter - "real life" struck again.
[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 is my original character, and he belongs to me.
CHAPTER XXXVI – The Light of Day
The Chantry of Auri-El was like no other structure that Ronan had ever seen. From the outside, with its white stone walls and arched doorways and sweeping stairways and the vast courtyard dominated by an elaborately carved statue of Auri-El, it looked like a palace from a fairy tale; on the inside, where time had taken its toll more, it resembled more of a mausoleum. Cold, grey, and shadowed, the halls of the Chantry were crumbling and scattered with Falmer frozen in ice, snarling in startling tableau. It was profoundly unsettling, and as he and Serana crept through the passageways, trying to make as little noise as possible and studiously avoiding getting too close to the frozen Falmer, the Breton would have sworn he felt their eyes on his back – if they had eyes, anyway, he amended.
But at least they're not coming after us, he reminded himself, squeezing through a particularly tight section where a wall of ice had formed over fallen pillars. And after Darkfall Passage and the dragons and more Falmer, we're so close to Auriel's Bow I can practically see it.
Thinking of the battle against the dragons reminded him of the kisses he'd shared with Serana, and despite the cool air, he flushed hot. That was... something I could never have anticipated. But nice. Very nice. He glanced ahead of him to see the vampire sliding herself between one of the fallen pillars and more rubble, and he smiled a little. Serana is... gods, how do I even describe her? How I feel about her?
An image of Jolaine and her sensual smile resurfaced in his mind and Ronan instinctively pushed it away. I'm going to have to tell Serana about her at some point. He swallowed. How hard could it be? She already knows about my father and my family, and I know so much about her –
Eyes sharp, Ronan, Nocturnal chided. Look to your little vampire.
Snapping out of his thoughts, the Breton realized that the two of them had emerged into an open, empty hall. The original stone walls, covered with sheets of ice forming dangerously sharp spikes, were barely visible, and even the floor was covered with a sheen of frost. More frozen Falmer lined the length of the hall, like grotesque courtiers, with their unseeing eyes all turned to the raised dais at the end and the throne upon it – and the one sitting in it.
"Did you really come here expecting to claim Auriel's Bow?" Vyrthur stood, a sneer twisting his angular features. "You've done exactly as I predicted, and brought your fetching companion to me."
Serana froze mid-step. "Is he – is he talking about me?" she murmured, shocked.
Ronan had no answer for her; he merely stared. How did Vyrthur know –?
"Which, I'm... sorry to say," the Arch-Curate continued, sounding anything but remorseful, "means your usefulness, human, is at an end!" He thrust one hand up into the air, and a sharp, shuddering crack echoed from above.
"Ronan, watch out!" Grabbing him by the arm, the vampire yanked him back. "He's pulling down the –"
No sooner had she spoke than a massive chunk of ice crashed down where they had been standing only seconds before. Desperately, the Breton glanced back towards where they had entered, only to see more ice spilling down over it and blocking the entrance.
A hiss caught his attention, and he whipped around to see one of the Falmer break free of its frozen prison. Pulling out both daggers, Ronan thrust one of them forward, embedding the blade in the creature's chest. No sooner had the Falmer fallen to the floor than gargling shrieks rung out around him, and he realized with dread that the other Falmer had woken as well.
"Stay close!" Serana, at his back, fired off a bolt of Chain Lightning, electrocuting two of the Falmer closest to her. "We can fight them off!"
On the dais, sheltered behind spikes of ice, Vyrthur laughed mockingly. "I doubt that."
"Don't think we've forgotten about you." Unsheathing her own dagger, the vampire stabbed another Falmer and then raised its corpse with a deft flick of her fingers. "Your life ends here!"
"Child, my life ended long before you were born." Raising his hand again, obscured by a dark void, the Arch-Curate flung it down on the ground before him; the scattered, broken ice flew together to form a monstrous frost atronach. "Yours, on the other hand, ends now!"
Glancing up from slaying another Falmer with a quick slash of his daggers, Ronan saw the atronach just in time to pull Serana out of the way. The creature swung one of its huge, misshapen fists, sending ice and pieces of the floor everywhere.
"Give him all you've got!" Hurriedly shoving his daggers in his belt, the Breton pulled out his crossbow and loaded a bolt: no longer fumbling, but steady and sure. "Let's see how he likes this."
He pulled the trigger, and the bolt struck the atronach where one of its eyes would have been. It reeled back, but not by much.
Hissing in rage, one of the Falmer rushed at them. Without thinking, Ronan swung the crossbow, hitting the creature squarely in the ribs and stunning it. Serana immediately followed with an ice spike through its chest.
Regaining composure, the frost atronach began to lumber toward them, the ground shaking with its steps. Resurrecting the Falmer, the vampire directed it towards the atronach before striking it with another bolt of Chain Lightning; like before, the atronach was barely moved before it swatted the undead Falmer out of the way.
"It's too powerful," the Breton said, despairing. "We need to find some other way –"
"How about this?" Serana raised her hands; fireballs crackled and burned over her palms, already starting to become pink and raw from the heat.
"Be careful!" Ronan pleaded. "You'll get hurt!"
"Well, we'll be worse than 'hurt' if this doesn't work." With that, she lobbed both of them at the frost atronach, striking it in the chest. Groaning out a wordless roar, the atronach stumbled, its frozen body beginning to melt.
Snatching a magicka potion out of her satchel and downing the whole thing with a grim, determined look on her face, the vampire summoned more fire. This time, she pushed it out, sending a wall of flame rushing towards the atronach and the advancing Falmer.
Ronan shielded his face from the intense heat, but he could still hear the shrieking echoing shrilly off the walls, now freed from the sheets of ice, as the Falmer burned and died. When the fire cleared, all that was left was scorched stone and blackened, shriveled bodies; the frost atronach was nowhere to be seen.
Pulling his eyes away from the gruesome scene, he turned to Serana. Her entire body was shaking, and the pale skin on her hands was red and raw, but her eyes glowed with triumph.
"No!" Vyrthur's savage cry startled him. "I will not let you ruin centuries of preparation!" He raised his hands more one time and a nimbus of white light swirled around him, pulling the icicles around him inward with their wicked points out.
And then he released it.
The force ripped through the hall, and Ronan, blinded by the intensity of the light, dropped to the ground in an attempt to avoid the ice spikes shooting outward. He heard stone and ice cracking around him, and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to be buried in rubble.
Five seconds. Then ten. And then after what felt like an eternity, a cool, but blistered hand gripped his own.
"Are you all right?" His still-ringing ears struggled to pick out Serana's desperate voice. "Come on, Ronan, you can do this; get up."
Preparing to wince, the Breton opened his eyes cautiously. Save for Vyrthur's throne, the hall's back wall had been completely blown away, leaving nothing but chunks of stone and ice in the explosion's wake. Strangely enough, Ronan had never been quite so happy to see a blue, cloudless sky in his life.
"Where is he?" he managed, struggling to his feet. "Did Vyrthur escape?"
"I think he's on the balcony." The vampire helped him up. "Come on!"
Nodding, the Breton immediately started forward, racing up the stairs and into the light. The balcony was largely plain, of the same construction as the rest of the Chantry, but a sunken wayshrine was at its center, set before another, smaller balcony led up to by twin staircases.
Serana ran past him and up the stairs again, stopping once she reached the top. Catching up, Ronan realized why: Vyrthur stood there, both hands on the railing, staring out over the mountain peaks with his face turned from them.
"This has gone on long enough." The Breton almost didn't recognize Serana's voice, grown sure and commanding. "Give us the bow, Vyrthur!"
"How dare you make demands of me," the other spat, hardly deigning to turn. "I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, girl. I was made in the form of a god!"
"Until the 'Betrayed' corrupted you," Serana interrupted with an impatient sigh. "Yes, we've heard this sad story."
Vyrthur started laughing, low and bitter. "Gelebor is an easily manipulated fool." Now, he turned around. "Look into my eyes, Serana, and tell me what I am."
Ronan took a half-step back, startled. The Arch-Curate's eyes were golden.
"You – you're a vampire?" Serana asked, aghast. "But... Auri-El... he didn't protect you?"
"The moment I was... infested by one of my own Initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me," Vyrthur snarled. "But even though I'd fallen from grace, I swore I'd have my revenge on him, no matter what the cost."
"You wanted to take revenge on a god?" Ronan questioned, eyebrows raising in disbelief.
"Auri-El himself may have been beyond my reach, but his influence on our world was not." The Arch-Curate's eyes gleamed, scheming. "All I needed would be his bow, tainted with the blood of a vampire."
The implications of his words hit Serana. "It was you!" she exclaimed, shocked. "You – you created that prophecy?"
"Imperfect, but effective enough that some fool was bound to find it." Vyrthur stepped closer. "But it lacked the final ingredient: the blood of a pure-blooded vampire. The blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour." He smiled unpleasantly at Serana. "And that is where you come in."
"I. Don't. Think. So." The other's voice came out as cold as ice.
Before Ronan could even react, Serana had closed the space between her and her enemy, gripping the Arch-Curate by the neck with both hands. Realizing too late what was happening, Vyrthur struggled against her, but Serana lifted him up off the balcony, leaving his feet kicking uselessly in the air.
"I can't believe it... you were waiting all this time for someone with my blood to come along." Serana's face twisted in anger. "Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I intend on keeping it. Your prophecy will never come true!"
"Foolish girl," the Arch-Curate rasped. "I'll darken the skies with your blood –!"
With one smooth motion, Serana twisted his neck with a sickening crack and flung Vyrthur to the ground. He lay motionless, his golden eyes staring blankly upwards.
Ronan stood still, with no idea what to do. He wet his lips. "Are – are you all right?" He winced, realizing that it was probably a foolish question to ask.
"Not especially." All the rage had drained out of her voice.
Hearing the familiar sound of stone scraping against stone, the Breton turned around to see the dome of the sunken wayshrine rising. Hurrying back down the steps, he was astonished to see Gelebor emerge from the doorway of the wayshrine.
"So the deed is done." The Arch-Curate appeared much more haggard and melancholic in the daylight. "The restoration of this wayshrine means that Vyrthur must be dead and that the Betrayed no longer have control over him."
"The Betrayed weren't to blame." Serana stepped down beside Ronan, her face grave. "He was a vampire. Your brother was controlling them, not the other way around."
"A vampire?" Gelebor frowned for a moment, but his expression slackened. "That... would explain much." He sighed. "It brings me joy that the Betrayed weren't to blame for what happened here, but my brother..."
"What makes you say that about the Fal – the Betrayed?" the Breton asked, confused.
"Because it means that there's still hope that they might shed their hatred one day and learn to believe in Auri-El once again. Despite the loss of my brother, it's been a long time since I felt hope, and it's been long overdue." He inclined his head towards both of them. "My thanks, to both of you."
"You're welcome," Ronan said.
Serana crossed her arms. "What happens now?"
"Now? You risked everything to get Auriel's Bow, and you've restored the Chantry while doing so. There is nothing I can do to fully repay you, but... I cannot think of two more deserving champions to carry the Bow." Gelebor turned slightly, indicating the wayshrine behind him.
Following his gaze, Ronan saw it: a gleaming golden bow, gracefully curved and shining with an inner light, hovering over the wayshrine basin.
Auriel's Bow.
[A/N] Yep... we're drawing close to the end here. But never fear: there's still more to come!
Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!