Chapter 49
Aldric inhaled sharply as he faced the monstrosity before him. In all he had done over the past several years, he had never seen anything like this.
It hunched in front of him, near the gate where it had been terrorizing Rory. At first glace, he believed it to be some kind of bizarre mutation of Falmer—it shared with the race a skin color and twisted, ghastly face. But it was far too emaciated to possibly be a living Falmer.
Its body had wasted away to unbelievable proportions. It was hardly bigger than a skeleton, and Aldric wondered how it still lived. Then he saw its eyes, glowing in its skull.
A vampire.
He tightened his grip on his greatsword. Having never encountered one quite like this, he had no way of knowing its strength or abilities. Behind him, he heard Farkas' heavy boot steps as he approached.
Aela had stayed behind, her injuries being tended within Kyrr's cabin. They had finally defeated the vampires attacking Snowpoint, but many were dead. Aela would have fought on, if not for Aldric and Farkas forcing her to stop. The stab wound in her shoulder was too serious to ignore.
"Gods," the other man muttered. "What is that thing?"
"Some kind of vampire," he answered, not taking his eyes off it.
Farkas looked past it to the gate. Rory was shouting something at him, her voice hoarse and desperate. He could pick almost nothing out of her unintelligible yelling except that she was warning him away.
"Rory is upset," Farkas observed.
"I think she's afraid for me. She may know something about the creature that I don't," Aldric said. Slowly, he began to back up, drawing the vampire away from the gate. "Be careful, Farkas."
Slightly behind him, at the halfway point of the tunnel, they had passed a gap in the wall that Aldric vaguely recognized—a hidden room, revealed by a stone door flush with the rest of the wall. The blackness beyond the hidden door reeked of death and horrible things, and he had assumed that was where the creature had come from.
The vampire let out a guttural growl, and Farkas stopped in his tracks. He was halfway through drawing his own sword when the creature leapt.
It moved blindingly fast, almost too fast for his eyes to track. Aldric dodged to the left, putting distance between him and Farkas. The Companion grunted as he was pushed into the tunnel wall by a glancing blow.
The vampire scrabbled against Farkas, attempting to climb him and get him to the ground. The other man's arm bunched as he leaned away from its snapping face.
"It's strong!" he shouted, strain evident in his voice. "Stronger than—aah!"
Rearing back, the creature plunged his fangs into Farkas' forearm. Blood spurted out of the sides of its mouth to roll down Farkas' skin in thick rivulets. Aldric kicked at it from behind, and it snarled at him without letting go, the sound muffled by the arm he was biting. He was latched on like a crazed dog.
Sheathing his greatsword, he stepped forward and seized the creature's head in both hands. He gave a careful pull backward, and Farkas yelled in pain.
"Don't rip him away from me!" the man cautioned. "He'll take part of my arm with him!"
"How am I supposed to get him off?" Aldric grunted. He could feel the raw power vibrating from the creature's body as he held him in a headlock.
"I don't know!" Farkas roared. "Stab him!"
With a massive effort, Aldric pulled an arm away to grab the dagger at his hip. He unsheathed it, and the vampire saw the movement, recognizing the weapon. Suddenly, it let go of Farkas and spun from its perch on the other man's body. The back of one of its hands crashed into Aldric's head.
His vision flickered as he went stumbling back into the wall behind him. Falling heavily, he barely caught himself before his head smacked into the stone floor. Farkas had been right—the vampire was strong. Stronger than anything he'd ever fought in hand-to-hand combat.
He shook his head, not sure if the ringing in his ears was from inside of his head or if it was Rory's distant yelling. Farkas moved unsteadily next to him, and he heaved to his feet, blinking hard.
Farkas was one of the biggest, strongest men he'd ever met, and the vampire was slapping him around like a troll might amuse itself with a skeever. Barely able to keep the creature from toppling him, Farkas wrestled to stay upright as the vampire slammed him into the wall repeatedly.
"I'll distract it!" Aldric shouted. "Shift while it's on me!"
Farkas didn't look at him, but nodded to show that he'd heard him. With a mighty kick, he shoved the creature toward Aldric.
Aldric caught the vampire and attempted to turn it toward him. The creature whirled around and threw itself at him. He felt its fangs scrape his jaw as he narrowly avoided blocking an attempt to his throat.
He sucked in a giant breath and felt the power curling inside of him. Struggling to keep his grip on the vampire's shoulders, he opened his mouth and Shouted.
"Fus…ro dah!"
The full power of his Thu'um erupted and blasted into the vampire. Caught like a wilted flower petal in a storm, it tumbled away from Aldric, ten, twenty, thirty, forty feet down the tunnel, arms and legs flopping limply as he rolled again and again.
Behind him, Farkas' heavy breastplate clanged to the floor. He silently counted the seconds as he heard him start to shift. Ahead of them, the vampire had rolled to its hands and knees, shaking its head. It was good to see that his Thu'um affected it, but unfortunately Aldric could not do it again immediately. He had to wait for the power to settle inside of him before calling on it.
To his left, a towering black figure walked to him. Farkas, as his beast, crouched and faced the vampire with him, hands and feet spaced widely apart. Once again, Aldric drew his greatsword.
The vampire scuttled on hands and feet toward them, its face contorted in a fearsome grimace. Farkas took the offensive and struck out at it with a massive forearm, trying to slam it into the wall in order to stun it.
It barely stumbled, and in turn seized Farkas' arm. Unbelievably, the giant werewolf staggered, but he regained his footing and roared in the creature's face. He struck the vampire in the chest with his other hand, knocking him away.
Aldric heard the distinct sound of one of the vampire's ribs snapping like a dry twig. Its face did not register the injury in any degree. It lunged at Farkas again, clinging to his upper body with arms and legs, trying to tear into his throat.
The thick ruff of fur that flowed from Farkas' head also protected his neck from exactly that kind of attack, but he still clawed and scrambled to pull the vampire away. The creature pulled back, bloody tufts of black hair spewing from its mouth.
Aldric regretted bringing only his greatsword with him. The blade was so massive that he was unable to make any kind of tactical strike for fear of accidentally hitting Farkas. If he'd had smaller weapons, like Rory's ebony swords, it would have been easier.
Then he remembered his dagger. Sheathing his greatsword once again, he drew the smaller blade and sank it into the creature's side. It completely ignored him, concentrating solely on his attack on Farkas. Aldric realized that whatever it was, it was beyond feeling pain.
It kicked out at him, however, and he was not fast enough to avoid it. He coughed, the wind knocked out of him. Farkas snapped and snarled in pain as the vampire raked sharp claws down his chest.
This is ridiculous, Aldric growled in his head.
He stood straight, ignoring how winded he was, and crushed the creature between him and Farkas. It writhed like a wild thing, but Aldric hung on, no matter how much it hurt when its elbows slammed into his ribcage.
Wrapping his arms around the creature, he trapped him in his embrace and began to stagger away from Farkas. The vampire locked his fangs into Aldric's arm, and he felt the sting as his sharp teeth punctured the thick leather of his armor.
With both feet, the vampire lashed out and caught Farkas full in the chest. The werewolf yelped and flew back into the wall with a crunch. Aldric swore when he saw the air shimmer around Farkas—he was shifting back to human form.
Naked and injured, Farkas rolled onto his side, his mouth open in a silent cry of pain. He clutched at his side, and his hand came away bloody.
At the sight and smell of the blood, the vampire in Aldric's arms went insane. Aldric thought the muscles in his biceps might tear from how hard he was flexing to keep the thing trapped.
He lurched forward, doing the only thing that occurred to him at the moment—using his body weight. The creature squealed as Aldric pinned him to the ground. Before he could lose his advantage, Aldric made a desperate grab for the dagger on the stones in front of him. His fingers hit the edge of the hilt and the weapon skittered away.
The vampire was almost completely enveloped underneath his body, and yet Aldric still swore in surprise as it almost bucked him off. How could something so thin and weak-looking be so powerful?
He locked his hands around the vampire's upper arms as he felt himself being thrown off. When his back hit the wall, he managed to keep his grip, and the creature rolled with him.
But his edge didn't last for long. It ripped free from him with a screech, and prepared to launch itself at Farkas. Aldric yelled a warning, afraid that he was going to watch his friend die in front of him.
A black blur took out the vampire just as it leaped. Aldric sat up in shock, watching the other werewolf grapple with it. After a second of observing, he realized it wasn't Aela.
The other wolf fought viciously, snarling and growling with wrath in its eyes. It tore into the vampire's gut with his claws while he had it pinned to the ground with his other arm and both legs.
Shrieking, the vampire flailed as it struck back. The werewolf's muzzle closed around the creature's collarbone, and with a grunt, the wolf flung the vampire away from him, over his shoulder and toward the gate trapping Rory.
Fangs still bared, the werewolf circled back and assumed a protective stance over Farkas. He lowered his head while keeping his eyes on the vampire ahead of him. When Aldric got to his feet, the wolf spared him a quick glance, and he felt a shock of recognition when their eyes met.
"Vilkas," he breathed.
The Companion answered him with a low rumble.
"Stay with your brother," Aldric told him. "This ends now."
Vilkas gave a deep nod.
For the third and final time, Aldric drew his dragonbone greatsword. He approached the vampire cautiously, watching it.
Blackish, sludgy fluid trailed from its injuries. Entrails, withered and slimy, hung in loose tatters from its abdomen. It crouched low to the floor, and Aldric could see that its mouth was opening and closing in slow gasps. They had wounded it greatly, and even if it didn't feel pain, its body was still shutting down.
Rory had given up on trying to say anything coherent. She was screaming wildly and throwing herself against the gate. Anxiety rose in him while he tried to ignore her. Blood was streaming down her naked body, and he had no idea if those were wounds she had sustained in a fight or right in front of him as she tried to pull the gate down with her bare hands.
He readied his sword as the vampire eyed him. Part of his mind was focused on the task at hand, and the other part could not help but be focused on Rory. She hurled her shoulder against the metal bars over and over. The sound was incredible, like two sabercats wrestling. At one strike, he heard the screech of metal as the gate—unbelievably—began to give.
A slight tremor had started to shake the vampire's body. It hissed at him, and Aldric forced his attention on his target. His arms tensed, waiting.
This time, he anticipated the vampire's lunge. Its feet had barely left the floor before Aldric unleashed his Thu'um again.
Just as he'd done earlier, only one word was required to stumble the creature. The shockwave had barely faded before Aldric swung his sword in a mighty blow over his head and straight across.
The vampire's head bounced to the floor, rolling until it came to a stop against the gate.
Rory screamed, and fell to her hands and knees. She screamed again, and then began to retch, her back curving with effort as she gagged. Nothing came out of her mouth, and she crawled away from the creature's head.
Aldric dropped his sword and ran to her. She lay on her back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted for breath. Her eyes stared up at him, and the look on her face was alien. It was like he looked down at a stranger.
"Get…away from me." Her voice was barely understandable, but he heard it.
He started to say something, and then he heard Vilkas call out behind him.
"Aldric!"
Torn between Rory and Vilkas, he finally turned when he heard Farkas groan in pain. He jogged to the brothers and looked down at where Farkas laid on the floor of the tunnel.
One of his ribs, broken badly, had punctured through the skin of his side. Farkas breathed shallowly. Aldric refrained from touching the wound, and dipped his head down to examine it.
"I think you'll be fine, Farkas." He turned to Vilkas. "Go up and see if anyone can be spared to heal him. If you cannot find anyone, bring Aela."
"Yes, Harbinger," Vilkas replied, turning and running from the tunnel.
"It's dead, then?" Farkas gritted out, jaw clenched.
"Yes." Aldric turned to look down to the gate where Rory was. Then he frowned, standing.
She was gone.
Once again, the sun rose over Snowpoint to bring a new day with the death and carnage. At last count, fourteen men and women—nearly a third of the entire pack—had been killed in the night.
Liana, Kyrr's daughter, had been one of them. Holding his daughter's body, Kyrr gently told Aldric that she had been defending her mother against one of the vampires. He stroked the little girl's hair back from her forehead as he spoke. She looked like she was asleep in his arms.
Aela, arm bound in a sling, was within the tent he had occupied while living at Snowpoint. Both Vilkas and Farkas were with her, and all three of them were resting. Vilkas was exhausted from traveling without stopping to find them, and Farkas had finally succumbed to the sleeping draught he had been given after his injuries had been treated.
Aldric wandered around the camp, unable to stop or rest. He'd cracked a rib during the fight with the vampire but refused to let anyone come near him.
Rory was gone.
After they had cranked the gate up, they had discovered both Amon and Seraph, dead on the floor within. Kyrr had been bewildered, as Seraph's mangled body attested to something other than his innocence.
The door at the end of the second tunnel was open, snow and ice blowing inside.
When they returned to the surface, a pack member had come up to Kyrr, his eyes wide. He held a piece of paper in his hands, and once the alpha took it from him, he ran away.
Kyrr unfolded the note and read it, his eyes traveling the paper rapidly. Then he looked up, his face shocked. "Rory says that Seraph was responsible for all of this."
Aldric had asked to see the letter for himself. After reading it, he sat down in the snow, lost. Almost everything they had thought they knew was wrong. And he still couldn't understand why she had left. He didn't believe that she was so traumatized by what had happened that she needed to be alone—she would have left word for him.
"Get away from me," she'd told him. He repeated the memory over and over in his mind, trying to strain his recollection for the look on her face, in her eyes.
Somehow, it was him. He had done something.
Hours later, Aela approached him. Her eyes were bleary and exhausted, but she still managed a smile for him. "My Harbinger," she said. "Aldric."
Something in her voice made him stop and turn to her.
She handed a letter to him. "I must have missed this before I went to sleep. I found it tucked under the pillow that has your scent on it."
His heart thudded in his ears as he took it.
You once said you would tear Skyrim apart looking for me, but you must let me go. I never want to see you again.
Kyrr had not left his position in front of his cabin, and would not speak. The alpha was deeply shamed that Seraph had been able to fool him so thoroughly and have such a secret kept from him in the depths of his own home.
As night began to fall over the mountains, Lejla came to him. She was handling the death of her daughter better than Kyrr was, and had taken pity on him. Putting a soft hand on his shoulder, she sat next to him on the ground.
He spoke without looking at her. "I thought the bond was supposed to prevent leaving like this."
Her voice was gentle. "It causes great inner pain with separation, but it is not impossible."
A long moment passed.
"Will it ever fade?"
"The bond?" Lejla asked. "Or the pain?"
"Both."
Her hand rested on his knee, trying to give him comfort. "As for the pain, I cannot say. But the bond's ties will lessen with time. You will not feel it so strongly in the coming years, if the separation lasts."
He stared out near the watchtower. Aela was talking to Kaspar, and whatever the scout was saying to her made her toss her head back with laughter, her hair catching the dying sun's rays prettily. "You mean to say that the bond never goes away."
Lejla followed his gaze and watched the two engage in playful conversation.
"No," she said after a long pause. "The bond never goes away."
"Thank you, Lejla."
She took the hint and stood, brushing snow from her legs, and then she left him alone.
Aldric turned and faced the horizon, watching the clouds drift by. The sun lighted them from beneath, and each cloud had turned a soft, buttery orange tinged with pink. They soared past him in the violet sky. It was amazing to see that no matter what had happened, the world around him still managed to be so beautiful.
He closed his eyes while his face was still tilted up. If he had any kind of religion, he would have prayed to the gods at that moment. He would have prayed for guidance, and for comfort, and for strength.
But Aldric did not pray. He stayed where he was, and he wondered how he would possibly get past this new kind of pain.
When he opened his eyes, he looked above him and saw that the stars were coming out. Aldric stretched out on his back on the cold ground, his hands underneath his head for a pillow, and he watched the skies.
