Middas, 1:10 PM, 29th of Frostfall, 4E 201

Castle Volkihar

Serana hated sunny days like these. It was like they were purpose-built to make vampires miserable.

Or were vampires purpose-built to be miserable when they were out in the sun? She didn't know anymore.

There was a long list of things Serana hated. Sunny days, cloudy days, snowy days, windy days, noisy towns, crumbling ruins, ancient tombs, dank caves, anywhere in the Reach, bandit forts—well, everyone hated that last one. Serana was pretty sure that hunting bandits had actually been officially decreed as Skyrim's official pastime. But if there was one thing she hated most of all, it was her past.

The only reason she was willingly coming back here at all was because the Dawnguard was behind her.

Literally, at the moment. She was sitting at the bow end of their little sailboat. Castle Volkihar was just a looming silhouette on the horizon. It was usually shrouded in that miserable gray northern mist that blanketed everything up here, land and sea alike, but today it stood right out in the open. The icy wind had apparently just blown away all the fog. There was nothing out here but clear blue sky, and the lone castle standing on the sea. It looked sort of naked. She couldn't take her eyes off it.

This was her past. The home of Clan Volkihar. The oldest and greatest stronghold of vampires anywhere in Skyrim. The place where she'd been raised.

Maybe it was bad to stare at it this whole time. She turned back around.

The entire Dawnguard attack team fit in this one little boat. They'd only brought the people they needed. Isran was sitting just behind her, looking like he wanted to stand up and wring her neck, so basically like normal. Behind him were those two outsiders, Erandur and Tolan. Sorine Jurard was manning the sail, and Florentius was at the stern end of the boat. Besides Erandur (and obviously Serana herself), all of them were wearing Dawnguard armor. They looked like a real army, with that uniform on. Serana was just a guest coming along for the ride.

Everyone had brought their own tools for the task ahead, but this was basically the Dawnguard inner circle at work. The only exception was Gunmar. Isran had asked him to stay behind just in case the attack failed. It wouldn't do for the entire Dawnguard leadership to be wiped out at once.

Plus, they wouldn't have been able to fit all those trolls of his in the boat. Armored trolls. Such a perfectly typical Nord thing to come up with. It was a pity they couldn't come along. Serana would've loved to see her father's reaction to a horde of those things storming the gates.

"We're getting close," Sorine said, peering past Serana out over the water. "I'm guessing five minutes."

Serana nodded. "I take it you're all ready for the landing."

Isran glared silently up at her some more. He liked to communicate in glares when he didn't have to resort to guttural growling.

Tolan said, "It's been near two months. If we're not ready to take on Lord Harkon now, we'll never be."

Ever since she'd been woken back up, Serana had been hearing nothing but derision toward the Vigil of Stendarr. Many of the Dawnguard—even Isran himself—had once been involved with the Vigil, only to end up abandoning it and its particular doctrine. But despite that bit of popular opinion, Tolan seemed to still identify as a Vigilant even now. All he was missing was the strange half-armored outfit those fellows wore.

Serana said, "You know, if you want more time to prepare, he's still waiting for the Elder Scrolls to drop into his lap, so we could just leave him here for another few thousand years."

Isran smirked. He actually smirked. It was disturbing. "Oh. Is the vampire getting cold feet about seeing her old home?"

Serana glanced over her shoulder. Castle Volkihar was definitely closer, by a little bit. Then she turned back to Isran, and shrugged. "I'm certainly not in a hurry. But I'm probably less afraid of my father than any of you are."

"You think I fear your father?" Isran squinted incredulously. Disturbing or not, his reactions were fun to watch. He made the best expressions when his strategic sense kept him from just bashing his conversation partner's head in with a war hammer.

Erandur said, "I'm no strategist, but normally, I would consider it inadvisable to attack a castle with six people in a boat. On the other hand, anything is possible. I'd wager we have a few circumstances on our side today."

"Months of preparation," Tolan said.

"A month and a half," Erandur said.

"We stormed Nightcaller Temple with no preparation at all."

"Yes, but everyone in it was asleep. It's different."

"You don't suppose this place has a Daedric artifact hidden somewhere inside, do you? Something we can banish to Oblivion?"

"If it does, Lord Harkon's been doing a sad job of putting it to use."

Those guys.

In all seriousness, Tolan and Erandur seemed closer than anyone else around her. Isran and his partners in vampire-hunting obviously had a long history together. But it wasn't much of a happy history, or Isran wouldn't have had to track them all down when he revived the Dawnguard. They would've been at his side from the very beginning.

Isran wouldn't have gotten far without those two. Serana wondered if he'd ever thanked them for their aid. That'd certainly be a sight.

"Last I checked, no, there aren't any Daedric artifacts at Castle Volkihar," Serana said. "Or at least, there won't be, until we bring them Dawnbreaker."

"Well, we're not exactly presenting it to them handle-first," said Sorine.

"Yes, thank you, that was the joke. Thanks for putting it in the past tense."

"What, you mean because I explained it?"

Serana laid a palm on her forehead. "You know what, Sorine?"

It occurred to Serana that Florentius was staying oddly quiet. Usually he would've made some kind of Arkay-related interjection by now. But he was just staring out into space, doing nothing. Maybe Arkay was giving him a detailed list of instructions for how to not die in the next half-hour. Or, 'Arkay'. Serana had heard Erandur's theory about that entity's true nature. It remained to be seen what its true colors were.

But it had gotten them Dawnbreaker, so that was definitely a point in its favor. As Serana pondered that, it also occurred to her that she'd unthinkingly put herself as far as possible in the boat from the sword and its wielder. Figured, really. She didn't imagine it'd be pretty if she touched that thing.

Some minutes passed by in silence. Serana went back to watching Castle Volkihar. It was getting closer, bit by bit. She wondered if anyone there saw them coming. The castle had never had an abundance of sentries, but a sailboat coming up from Skyrim's direction on a crystal-clear day wasn't exactly an example of stealth.

That said, as Serana understood it, it would be just lovely if they massed all their defenses at the front gate. That'd be perfect for stage one of the attack.

"All right," Sorine said. Serana looked back at the Breton as she spoke. "I need to get ready now. Tolan, take the sail."

"Got it." Tolan and Sorine promptly switched places. Most boats of this size used oars, not sails, but Serana's understanding was that this was another of Sorine's fun little experiments. As it happened, so was stage one.

As Tolan took up Sorine's spot, he asked, "Are you sure that toy of yours will do its job?"

"Of course," Sorine said, a bit irritably. "Well, I mean, I haven't tested it in such a cold climate—"

"Have you tested it at all?"

Sorine didn't answer. She just set about preparing that toy of hers.

The waters around Castle Volkihar were treacherous. Anything larger than this sailboat would probably get dashed to pieces on all the rock formations. Even after some thousands of years, they still stood jutting out of the water, defending the castle's shores, like teeth.

Tolan took them on a slow, cautious path around the outermost rocks as long as he could. Serana sort of morbidly appreciated the chance to get a nice thorough view of her old home. There was an old, lonely watchtower out in front of the bridge to the main gatehouse—it'd looked old even before Serana had been sealed away—and it shifted from out at the castle's left to directly in front of it.

Eventually, there was no point in circling around any farther, so Tolan changed course and the boat slowly veered to the right. The water was decently calm today, but this was the sea, not some inland lake. The waves weren't making his job easy. Come to think of it, they probably weren't making Sorine's job easy either, with the whole boat bobbing up and down every second or so.

"Serana," Isran growled. Well, how about that, he actually addressed her by name. Maybe he was starting to like her. "Should we expect resistance from that tower?"

Serana shrugged. She kept her eyes on the castle ahead. It was getting big. Very, very big. There weren't a lot of structures in Skyrim that could match its size. "A token amount, if any. My father never paid that much attention to fending off outsiders. Not much point. The past few thousand years, he's kept a low profile, by the sound of it."

Erandur said, "By the Nine. I just realized that they must have all been feeding on people from the mainland this entire time. Can you imagine how many people they've killed?"

Isran made a dismayed grunt.

"Yeah," Serana nodded grimly. "Really makes you want to sail up to their doorstep with some friends and kill them all, doesn't it? We should try that sometime."

Castle Volkihar was looming high over them now. A huge, solid structure of frosty black stone, in true Nordic fashion, with stark imposing walls and towering vaulted roofs. They were close. Another minute, and they'd be running up on the shore. Serana took a deep breath in. She wasn't looking forward to this. Not that that made her special. It wasn't much to do with being a vampire. Besides Isran, she doubted anyone in this boat was looking forward to this.

"All right, I think it's ready," Sorine said.

Serana paused. She could see the bridge clearly from here. It was more of a ramp than anything, really. It made a steep, arching path from the ground a short distance behind the watchtower all the way up to the gatehouse. There were half a dozen gargoyle statues dotted along its edges, two by two, just hunched there like they were simple decoration. They looked like tiny little dark lumps, this far out.

"The bridge has gargoyles on it," Serana said back. "They'll come to life and attack you. We need to deal with them first."

In response, Isran picked up his crossbow from the floor of the boat and deftly pulled back its lever. "Deal with them," he growled. "I think we can do that just fine."

The shore of Castle Volkihar's island—which, Serana just noticed, didn't really have its own name, being that it was barely any bigger than the castle on top of it—didn't have any proper sand. It was all dark gravel and pebbles, not very pleasant to walk on. Fortunately, there was a small pier just by the watchtower, for boats like this one to moor at. Unfortunately, the pier's front half was collapsed and mostly underwater. Tolan brought the boat up to the shore on its left.

Serana was the first one on the beach, followed immediately by Isran. Without a word, they both turned and started hauling the boat up onto the gravel, Isran with the crossbow on his back. As the others clambered out around them, and the boat lightened bit by bit, the job became that much easier. Soon, barely any of the boat's hull was touching the water at all.

Erandur was already on the shore when Sorine started to disembark. She handed him the device before trying to climb out of the boat. As she did, she said over her shoulder, "Tolan, don't forget your contribution."

"How could I ever?" Tolan chuckled as he fetched the item in question and slung it around his shoulder. "Come on, Florentius. It's time."

Soon enough, all of them were standing in a loose semicircle around the boat, looking up at the castle ahead. Frankly, standing here like this, it looked insurmountable. It had been here for thousands of years, as had those inside it. But Serana hardly even cared. She was just enjoying being able to stretch her legs after so long in the boat.

"High tide," Isran growled, pointing to the pier. The wooden supports were dark and visibly slimy starting a couple feet below the deck, but barely any of the dark portion was visible above the waterline. "Lucky. Our boat won't wash away."

Serana nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. It would've been a real shame to have to stop and moor it to the side of the pier. We would've had to tie knots, with rope."

Isran ignored her and started on his way up to the bridge. With one hand, he unslung his crossbow again, and with the other, he pointed to the right. "Erandur, secure the tower."

"On it." Erandur handed Sorine's device back to her, threw on a mage armor spell, and strode off to the lonely watchtower. It was only a stone's throw away. The start of the bridge was a couple stone's throws past it.

Tolan asked, "Do you suppose they've noticed us?"

"Doesn't matter," Isran growled. "Gargoyles. Now."

For a moment, it looked like Isran was going to take the lead. But all of a sudden, Florentius Baenius strode out to the forefront of the group, Dawnbreaker in hand. He didn't even look back. "Arkay told me all about this part," he called out confidently. "Stay behind me. This will only take a moment."

Isran rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "Stendarr's mercy, he's talking again."

The trek up the bridge was really quite short, compared to the time they'd spent in the boat. Walking felt even better on Serana's legs than standing. It was strange. She'd expected to be near-overwhelmed with apprehension right now, but instead, she just didn't feel anything. It was like coming home any other day. She just happened to be coming today as an enemy.

Florentius gradually sped up to a jog, then a full-out run, straight up the bridge, towards the gatehouse. And sure enough, with a crunching crumble of stone and a hideous squealing roar, the first gargoyle burst from its pedestal. Then the second. Florentius ignored them. He just kept running, all the way to the end of the bridge, awakening each gargoyle on the way.

Serana squinted. "What in Oblivion is he thinking?"

"Let's find out," Sorine remarked blithely.

The curvature of the bridge's arch meant that from its lower end, the gatehouse wasn't entirely visible. After a point, Florentius vanished from sight, with four monstrous creatures of living stone running after him. A moment later, there was a blossoming, rumbling flash of fire from the other side of the bridge.

Isran and Serana glanced at each other wordlessly, then looked back up. There was another flash, and then another. The gargoyles were grunting and screeching like crazy.

Tolan raised an empty hand in Florentius' direction. "Uh… Should we be, uh…" Another flash. "Should we be helping him out?"

"No," Serana and Isran said at the same time.

Footsteps came crunching up through the gravel behind them. Erandur's voice asked, "What in Oblivion is going on here?"

"I don't know," Tolan said. "Florentius just ran off and got all the—" Another flash of fire. "… Gargoyles, to chase him."

Five flashes of fire so far. Six gargoyles, five flashes. Serana looked to Sorine. "Are you ready?"

Sorine nodded. "Once the path is clear."

And then came the sixth flash.

"Then get moving," Serana said. "Don't wait. Get up there, do your job. Go. We'll watch your back."

"You don't give orders," Isran snapped.

Sorine was already walking up the bridge, device in tow. And Serana was already following him. Isran grumbled something best not repeated around sensitive ears, then joined them.

Florentius came into view quickly enough. He was sauntering back towards them with Dawnbreaker resting on his shoulder. Behind him were six mangled, broken gargoyle bodies.

Sorine gaped. "Florentius! How did you do that?!"

"A simple trick Arkay showed me," Florentius replied coolly, before completely ruining it with: "I think it involves explosions. It involves fire? I used my sword. I'm sorry, I don't know. Perhaps I can show you again later."

"Please," Sorine said.

Serana, for her part, wasn't even surprised. Dawnbreaker was a Daedric artifact. It treated the undead like a sledgehammer treated a window pane. She was plenty happy to not go anywhere near Florentius while he had that thing out.

"Set up your device," Isran said. "They'll be sending reinforcements any second."

"That, or just closing up the gate and leaving us out here," Serana replied.

Isran sniffed. "Let's see them try."

Sorine's device resembled a length of dwarven pipe, about as long as she was tall, and as wide as her leg. It was made out of the right metal. Must've been hollow, because Sorine didn't seem to have any trouble carrying it, and it hadn't exactly sunk the boat or anything. But it was set in a frame that it sat inside at an odd angle, and it was covered in little switches and valves and incomprehensible dwarven things.

It also had thirty-two grand soul gems on it. Not an exaggeration. Four rows of eight, running down the length of the pipe in a continuous X shape. Serana wasn't sure she'd ever seen so many soul gems of any kind in one place before. These must have cost enough coin to buy Riften. As in the entire city of Riften. This was going to be interesting to watch.

At least on principle, Serana understood the reasoning of the device. She'd been in more than her share of Nordic ruins. But still, as Sorine set the giant contraption down in front of the gate and started throwing switches, Serana couldn't help but feel like she had no idea what she was looking at.

Sorine was putting the device down maybe fifteen feet away from the outer portcullis of the gate, which was closed. There was a small gatehouse chamber behind it, and then the heavy wooden doors to the inside of the castle. No one seemed to be in the chamber. That was convenient. No one was bothering Sorine while she worked.

The Breton took a deep breath in, then flicked one last switch, then stood up and scurried back towards Serana and the others. "You might want to move back," she said.

Serana took exactly one step back. She didn't want to take her eyes off this.

The device was humming. Building up with some sort of internal energy. The sound was slowly, steadily growing louder and higher. A white light flashed in the air beyond the front end of the pipe. The end that was pointed upward at the gate. Then another light, then another. They were fragments of solid light, snapping and fluttering like ribbons of brilliant cloth. Serana wondered if anyone had seen a device like this before in the world. Didn't seem likely. She was still wondering about that when it happened.

There was a split-second moment where a beam of solid white light shone from the end of the pipe, straight into the gatehouse. Then the air cracked apart in Serana's ears. The heat was incredible. It was like she was hanging over a roaring furnace. It took her a moment for her to register that she couldn't see. The light was too bright. She squeezed her eyes shut, and it was still too bright. The noise was deafening. She could barely even hear herself think. And the heat! Her skin felt like it was about to burn. There was an acrid, smoky smell in the air. Everything was going to burst into flame. She was going to die. This was actually going to kill her.

And then there was a sharp, metallic pop, and the noise stopped. The light stopped too, just like that. But the heat lingered.

Serana slowly lowered her hands from her face. She hadn't even realized she'd put them up. The dwarven device was still there, but the metal was scarred and burnt. The soul gems were all riddled with cracks. The whole thing looked dead.

The gatehouse was gone. The entire structure was simply missing from the front of the castle. In its place was a gaping hole. The hole continued quite a distance inside, like a huge cone of matter in front of the device had been just erased from being. It was a literal cut-away image of the castle interior. She could see the keep's main hall from here, now. All of the exposed stone surfaces were glowing bright orange, dripping and crumbling. If anyone had been standing in this space, there would be no way of knowing.

A few seconds went by in silence. No one said or did anything. Serana was just staring blankly. She was fairly certain of what she'd just seen, but it didn't seem right. Strangely, part of her was offended that Sorine had just destroyed part of her old home. Like it still belonged to her, somehow, if it ever had to begin with.

Then a voice inside the castle screamed in fury. A legion of other voices joined it. The vampires started to emerge into view.

Well, well. It looked like the Dawnguard hadn't been the only ones out recruiting.

"Stage two," Isran growled.

Stage two was Tolan's to handle. He already had the scroll in his hands, from the satchel he'd fetched from the boat. Serana didn't see him cast the spell it contained. She was already turning and running back down the bridge, along with all the others. But she did hear it. At first, it was just a sharp release of magicka, and then the very familiar noise of a certain magical effect taking place. And then:

"I SMELL WEAKNESS!"

Serana couldn't help but laugh to herself as she ran. It was so perfect. The one active Vigilant on the entire team, and he was conjuring that.

The six of them regrouped about halfway down the bridge, at what would've been its crest if it started and ended on level ground. Behind them, the Dremora that Tolan had just conjured was roaring and shouting in that faintly-garbled Daedric voice of his, audible even above the clamor of the vampires and their own supporting forces. One bound Dremora could hold his own against too many mortals to count. From here, Serana couldn't see him at work, but she wished she could. It probably would've put Florentius' mystery antics to shame.

Tolan took the opportunity to mingle with the others and make sure they were all properly equipped. Isran seemed eager to put that crossbow to use. Serana was just curious how long the Dremora would last. No longer than a minute, presumably. It was a simple law of conjuration, just like the law that conjured creatures couldn't leave or take anything from the local environment when they left, or the law that one person could only conjure one creature at a time. The Dremora was running on a limited amount of time. It was just a question of whether he'd be slain before the time expired.

Her question was answered when the Dremora's battle cries abruptly cut out. Someone had finally overcome it. There was a brief lull as the vampires realized that they'd actually defeated their attacker, and then they all came pouring out the gates. There were so many of them. Dozens upon dozens. Serana swallowed. She was fairly sure she actually recognized some of those faces.

"Get ready," Isran said. Then, a moment, later, "And—now!"

And with that, all six of them—Isran, Serana, Tolan, Erandur, Sorine and Florentius—all threw down their conjuration spells at the bridge before them.

"A CHALLENGER—"

"—MEET YOUR END, MORTAL!—"

"—I HONOR MY LORD—"

"—FEAST ON YOUR HEART!—"

"—BLEED!—"

"—FALL BEFORE—"

"—BY DESTROYING YOU!—"

"—DEATH!—"

"—OBLIVION TAKE—"

"—RUUUAAAAGH!—"

Tolan had brought a whole satchel with him. It hadn't contained just one scroll.

The Dremora hit the oncoming vampires like a wall. Bodies went flying. Parts of bodies went flying even more. It wasn't even a battle. The six of them carved their way up the bridge in a span of seconds. Serana wasn't sure she'd ever seen so much blood spilt over such a short time. She could barely process what she was looking at.

It didn't take long for the vampires to break and run back into the castle. Screaming frantically to each other, trying to put some distance between them and the Daedric meat grinder. It didn't matter. The Dremora just ran into the castle after them. They went their separate paths, the noises steadily receded, and then it was back to normal out here.

Besides that now there were a few dozen dead vampires and death hounds and such laying on the bridge. The blood pooling from all their bodies was actually trickling down the bridge's surface, because of how steeply sloped it was. It was going to get on Serana's feet in a minute.

She folded her arms and smirked. She could get used to this.

"So, Sorine," Tolan said, "how did you like the test?"

Sorine giggled in response. She didn't even say anything. She just put her hands to her cheeks and tried not to be loud.

"I hope the five of you are aware that these Dremora won't actually get them all," Erandur said.

Isran nodded. "True. But that's for stage three. We'll get in there soon enough."

Tolan stepped over the bloodied corpses of the enemy, peering at the inside of the castle. The walls were still glowing faintly red where Sorine's device had cut them away.

"This is some impressive handiwork," he said. "I hope you're able to work more on this design, Sorine."

"Just give me some more dwarven cities I can comb through for grand soul gems," Sorine said, sobering up quickly. "I wouldn't count on it anytime soon. There was only one Avanchnzel. I'm just glad it worked."

There was a flicker of movement in the corner of Serana's eye. Instantly, she looked past Tolan into the castle. Nothing.

"Careful," she said. "I think my father may be making an appearance soon."

Isran loaded a bolt into his crossbow. "Well, then. Let's hope we didn't use that dwarven monstrosity too early."

Tolan raised his voice. "Hey! Lord Harkon! If you can hear me, the Vigil of Stendarr has unfinished business with you! Why don't you come out and face your death quickly? It'll save us all some time!"

He drew his mace slowly, purposefully. Like a man who'd faced the darkness a thousand times, and who knew just what to do with it.

Harkon appeared right as he swiped his claws across Tolan's chest. The man spun backwards, teetering on one foot as the blood seeped through his armor. Then he fell limply to the ground, and he was just one more dead body laying on the bridge.

Isran's crossbow bolt bounced aside harmlessly when it hit. Harkon was already in vampire lord form. A too-tall gray-skinned monster, with wings that were too small, a freakishly thick neck, a snarling beastlike face, skin that seemed stretched taut with muscle and sinew, and wearing an obscene minimum of royal finery. This was Serana's father.

She really hated her past.

Florentius charged straight at him with a bellowing roar, sword held high. He responded with a backhand swing that sent Florentius and his sword both right over the edge of the bridge. There wasn't even any water down there. Just more rocks, like the rest of the island.

"Serana," he growled. Not like an Isran growl. Much, much worse than that. "You've returned. I will admit, the circumstances of this reunion are… Disappointing. But I am prepared to welcome you back into your home."

Serana stared silently. Her mind was racing. How, how could she win now? Dawnbreaker had been their one chance at bringing Harkon down, and now it was at the bottom of the bridge. She had to think. She had to come up with something, and fast.

And Harkon kept talking. "Look around you, Serana. Your friends have exhausted their collection of tricks. None of them can stop me. And so it will be for the rest of mankind."

Harkon had never been a loving father. Not a loving husband, either. He had only cared about Serana or her mother as far as they had helped him attain his goals. And if Harkon was showing Serana even a scrap of kindness right now, it was because he still needed something from her.

She didn't have to wonder very far as to what. Her mother had sealed her away with an Elder Scroll, and it was hidden at Fort Dawnguard right now. Harkon didn't know that. He could guess, but he'd still need Serana's help to find it. And especially to find the other two. Wherever her mother was hiding, she probably had one of them.

There was movement behind Harkon. Serana took one look at it, and sighed. She had really been hoping for better than this.

So she did what her father had told her to do. She looked around her. Isran was standing right next to her, seething silently. Sorine was looking on in numb shock. Erandur looked like he was about to break into tears.

Erandur had just lost his best friend. That took a moment for Serana to comprehend. Her own father had done this.

"Father," she said, her voice wavering, "I understand the situation. But I think there's something you need to understand too."

Harkon narrowed his eyes. "And what might that be?"

Florentius leapt into the air above Harkon's back, and for a moment, Dawnbreaker hung in midair, its orb shining like the sun in the sky. The blade took Harkon's head off his shoulders in one clean stroke. There was a burst of flame, and then the head thudded on the stones.

"That's all," Serana said.

"By the Nine and all they hold dear, you actually did it!" Erandur cried out. "Florentius, you did it!"

Sorine kept staring blankly. "I… I don't understand. You fell."

Florentius let the sword fall to the ground at his side. He took a step back, then another, then slumped down and sat against the low stone railing he'd just fallen over.

"He must have grabbed onto the edge," Isran mused. "Impressive. So the deed is done."

But Florentius didn't reply. He just laid his head in his hands and sat there, silently.

Serana started walking up to him. Dawnbreaker was still right there on the ground, but she didn't care. This wasn't right. "Florentius? What's the matter?"

The Imperial looked up, and focused slowly on Serana. They looked at one another for a long moment.

"He's gone," he whispered. "Arkay is gone. He's left me."

"Oh gods," Sorine breathed.

Serana looked to Isran, who simply shrugged. No help there. She was about to walk up to Florentius, when Erandur cut past her and crouched by the man's side.

"Florentius," he said softly, "can you hear me?"

Isran set about reloading his crossbow. He walked right past Tolan's body where it lay, and peered into the ruined entrance of the keep. Like he was expecting the rest of the vampires to jump out right then and there.

Florentius blinked once, then turned his gaze to the elf beside him. "I'm alone now. I can feel it. He didn't say goodbye, he's… I don't think he's coming back. I… I don't understand."

Erandur shook his head slowly. "You're not alone. You're with the people you were with all along. We're at your side."

Florentius said nothing.

After a moment, Erandur said, "You just lost someone huge. I understand. But we can think about that later. Right now—focus on right now—we're in the middle of a battle. You just defeated the leader of the vampires. But there are still many of them left inside this castle. If you want to stay out here, we'll bring you back home when we're done. No one's telling you to follow us in. But you can make your own choice. Arkay doesn't have to tell you what to do today. If you join us in finishing this fight, it'll be you choosing to do it. Not Arkay, you. And the Dawnguard needs people who can make that choice."

No one spoke. Erandur stood up slowly, and nodded to the others. "Let's get in there. The battle is waiting for us."

Sorine walked up by him, unslinging her own crossbow as she did. "Are you going to be all right?"

Erandur swallowed, then nodded. "We can mourn the dead later. We have a plan. Let's follow it."

The two of them joined Isran in front of what had once been the gatehouse. And so the Dawnguard entered Volkihar Keep.

Serana began to trail after them. She'd already gotten through the worst part of this battle unscathed. And for someone whose father had just died, she wasn't going to be mourning very much. Might as well get on with the fight.

As she reached the ruined threshold of the castle, she stopped, and looked out over the bridge. She expected to see Florentius sitting where he'd been on the bridge, suffering the loss of his eternal guide. Erandur had been right about him. Only a creature with a very specific agenda would guide a mortal so closely. And apparently, this guide's agenda had ended with the death of Lord Harkon. Serana hadn't realized her father's taste in enemies was quite that bad.

She didn't see what she'd expected to see.

Florentius was walking after her. Dawnbreaker was in his hand.