Serana's boots dragged on stone that she had strode over with a staccato firmness just moments earlier.
She descended into the dining hall with sinking footfalls, boot soles smacking limply against each step as though cold weights were lashed to her ankles.
She couldn't bear to walk by the archway leading to the courtyard again, couldn't bear to so much as look in the direction of the defiled heap of stone that took its place now. She slid past empty tables, the tangy scent of blood only making her shriveled stomach churn with a bloated sickness that rose up to her head in nauseating waves.
It followed, even as she lumbered out of the hall and continued down the murky route drawn in her frayed mental map.
"My Lady."
The words pierced the muffled veil ringing in her ears, the familiarity of them lost in a voice that she had not known long enough for them to feel… right.
She continued walking, suddenly aware of a different pair of footsteps trailing behind her, cracking sharply against the stone over the shuffle of her own.
They eventually overtook her, a lithe figure slithering in front of her path. She shuffled to a halt, dazingly assessing the person that was audacious enough to obstruct her at this moment.
If the man was at all bothered by her numb-stone silence, he didn't show it at all, a saccharine smile drawn over his lips, one gimlet golden and red eye sizing her up and down from beside a curtain of jet-black hair covering his other.
"I don't believe we've been properly acquainted yet. I figured a more formal introduction would be in order now that at all the commotion from your most magnificent return has settled down."
He dipped into a slight bow, his movements gentle and elegant, fingers splaying out lavishly. There was no humility to it.
"The court knows me as Lord Sarpa. Of course, that's just Sarpa to you, My Lady."
Oh. Right. He had been there in the dining hall.
He must've noticed the flash of recognition breaking through her porcelain skinned-mask, as his smile peeled apart into a sharp-toothed grin when he rose back up.
"You weren't around when my mother was," she observed flatly.
A lot of these faces she'd seen in the halls weren't either- but none of them had sat in the circle closest to Harkon during dinner, like this one.
"Mhmm," he hummed sweetly. "I would imagine there's many new faces for you too see as well, aren't there? There was a time I couldn't quite keep track myself, truth be told."
"Right."
"I'm sure you'll have no problem catching up. Half the court will probably be scrambling to make your acquaintance come dusk."
Seconds of silence passed, but Sarpa did not budge. She felt herself instinctively quashing the slump in her shoulders, raising her head over his just a little bit more to glare down at him.
"Was there something else you needed?"
"Why, is it not customary for you to introduce yourself in return?"
"You already know who I am." Her brows furrowed when she saw Sarpa's grin grow wider. "Now get out of my way. Please," she said, a slimy sweet venom dripping from that last word.
"Of course. It would be unwise for you to keep Lady Marian waiting." Sarpa stepped aside, bowing down slightly again and holding his arm out as though ushering her down the hall.
She should've left it at that, brushed past him and been on her way. But his mention of Marian, the upward twitch in the corners of his mouth as he spoke her name kept her rooted in place for a moment more.
Lady Marian?
"How did you know Marian was preparing my room?"
"Ah, how clumsy of me," he said, chuckling and momentarily turning his gaze downwards. "She… required some aid with carrying your sheets up. I encountered her on the way to my own quarters. This was meant to be strictly between her and I, of course, until… well."
Serana's eyes narrowed.
"That's very kind of you."
"I'm so glad you think so."
A tense silence reigned following their flat exchange, Sarpa holding his supplicating posture the entire time. His hair held steady in its combed swathe, not a single errant strand breaking away to dangle before his eyes.
"It seems you would best be on your way, My Lady."
My Lady.
Her fingers curled, but she drew in a quiet breath, and released the tension in her fingers.
"Indeed. A… pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She gave him a curt nod before slipping past him, at the very least acknowledging that his interruption had momentarily distracted her from far more disturbing thoughts. Cleared away the haze that was clouding her mind like the murky incense drifting along the walls.
That was, of course, up until he dared to speak again.
"I do hope there's no bad blood between us regarding your mortal friend. Lord Harkon's judgement of I at first was just as harsh. I'm sure he'll be just fine."
His voice echoed down the hall from behind her, lofty with intentional mockery or numb-skulled tone deafness, she couldn't tell. It didn't really matter.
A part of her urged her to keep ploughing forward, head down. Whispered to her that this wasn't worth it.
Wasn't worth it.
Exactly what she'd told herself coming out from Harkon's den. What she'd told herself when her mother had burst into her room all that time ago.
The soles of her boots snapped to a sharp halt. Her shoulders squared against the constraining fabric of her coat and the embroidered leather pressed over it. Her neck strained, skin stretching taut up from her shoulders as she pivoted her head around.
The edges of his mouth drew up even further when she fixed her dagger-gaze upon him. His fingers flexed, his teeth shining through his lips in the candlelight.
Her own fingers began a slow, deliberate dance, snaking up the lines in her palm. Currents of magicka bubbled in the skin beneath her nails.
"You left many of us wondering just what you saw in that sad little creature…"
"I think I explained myself well enough. If you can't understand that, then I suppose that's your problem, isn't it?"
A tense silence settled amongst the haze in the hall. Sarpa's teeth receded.
"It may well become your problem if the entire court cannot grasp your reasoning," he intoned.
"I'll make sure to enlighten them, then." She broke her gaze off at last, releasing the strain that had been coiling in her hands.
A wisp of flame slipped quietly out from her left palm, the fading clouds flickering dangerously close to the frayed rags of carpet trailing along the edge of the hall.
This time, Sarpa remained silent.
0-0-0
Marian heaved her arms upwards, gangly limbs flowing like the thin sheet of velvet her fingers grasped. A tranquil blankness was painted over her face, her lips holding the gentlest inkling of a smile. The bedsheet fluttered down onto a starch white mattress, silky red spreading over its surface like water running across stone. Marian ran her open palms over it, graceful and wide strokes smoothing over the faint ripples that lingered.
Serana watched from the doorway, her muscles stiff, skin chafing beneath week-old garments, lip twisting underneath her front teeth. A deathly rigor weighed in her jaw.
Lavender incense wafted over to her, tendrils of white smoke skimming over the eroded walls in a serene dissonance. It stung at hairs in her nose, dry and crackling after being flushed of tear laced mucus.
It was enough to make her want to spin on her heel and leave at that moment. Marian's doe-eyed gaze, wide and startled as she looked up from her work, locked Serana in place.
"My Lady!"
Was it merely wishful thinking that she heard a grazing of excitement in the handmaiden's voice?
If it was not, then the hoarse and flat words that grated out from Serana's throat in response almost certainly snuffed it out.
"Hello, Marian."
Marian averted her gaze, turning it downwards as she bowed. "I was so concerned as to where you might've gone. I was going to leave and look for you myself but-" She seemed to catch herself, clearing her throat as she rose back up.
"In any case, your bedchamber is ready. Lady Hestla passed along a gift to commemorate your return," she added curtly, gesturing towards the nightstand. The gift in question was a sword- its blade sheathed in a scabbard of sumptuous black scales, the crossguard and hilt cast from a cold obsidian.
Serana barely saw them out of the corner of her eye.
"She expresses her great admiration for Your Grace, and dearly hopes that you find the weapon worthy of your station."
"I see. Thank you," Serana spoke softly.
"I merely bear Lady Hestla's gifts in her stead, My Lady."
"I meant thank you for cleaning my room."
"Oh. I… you are of course, welcome, My Lady."
Marian bowed again. When she rose back up, she wasted no time in making for the door.
Her back was set ramrod straight, her arms held rigidly at her sides as she strode over. Even as Serana remained there in front of the door, blocking the exit like a limp and cold pile of rubble, Marian had her gaze set firmly forward. It was as though she was peering right through Serana.
It was not much longer before she was forced to cease her dutiful march. A few more seconds of stillness passed by, her hands slowly inching away from her sides. Her petal-like lips pressed tightly together.
"W-" Serana cleared her throat at last, the stagnation in her bones shaking loose like a fine coating of dust. "Would you mind staying for a moment?"
"I- of course not, My Lady, I will stay for a moment if you wish. Is the state of the room not to your liking? My dearest apologies, I shall redouble my efforts to-"
"No, no," she cut Marian off, an uneasy weight remaining in the pits of her stomach. The raw sting of salt still lingered beneath her eyes. "I just wanted to talk."
Marian's eyebrows drooped.
"That is… a difficult request to fulfill, in light of my new duties, I am afraid."
There was a longing that glimmered in those eyes, a faint rheumy gloss that Serana had grown quite familiar with herself.
"I understand," she responded, a strange feeling of relief shattering the heavy hesitation that yet weighed on her chest. "I'll let you get on your way."
She shuffled away from the door, faintly trembling legs carrying her over to her chair. It remained in the corner, bleached wood laid bare, its own legs still standing despite the thin fissures running down their length. Despite her weight limply sliding down onto the seat.
It held fast, the creaks that groaned out from its structure fading quickly as she settled in. The tension in her neck slipped away, as though a knife had run through the cords holding up her head. A shaky breath escaped her lungs, the tremors reaching up to the raw lenses of her eyes.
Marian's shadow lingered on the ground, stretched over stone like a flash-frozen stream of water.
"I hear many things around the castle," she spoke after a long silence, an even wispier tenderness to her voice. "Things that Lord Harkon does not."
Her shadow slid away, melding into the dark peering out of the hallway outside. The door clicked shut. And then Marian's shadow returned.
"It is not an enviable position to be in, My Lady. I am obliged to relay every word that comes across my ears to his."
In the back of her mind, she could almost envision Marian standing where she had just moments before. Listless in the musty firelight, enduring endless stretches of silence.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Polished boots of black leather clacked across the stone. They paused at the edge of Serana's bed.
She looked up, watching as Marian ran her fingers over the immaculate red of the sheets she had splayed out.
"May I have a seat, My Lady?"
"Go ahead."
She plopped down on the mattress with the same grace Serana had when she lumbered into her chair.
They sat like that for a few quiet moments, the wind outside drumming faintly against the walls.
Marian broke it. Her voice, so tender as it was, rumbled like thunder to Serana's ears.
"Do you remember the oath that I swore to you and your family?"
"I'm not sure if I even born when that happened," she responded. "And if I was, I certainly don't think I cared at the time."
"Fair enough," said Marian with a chuckle. "It was quite a dry and verbose matter. Lady Valerica insisted I sign a document and all- I didn't even know how to spell my own name, let alone write at that time."
"Really?"
"Of course. I was raised in a small mill on the Hjaal River, where my parents were the sole owners. There wasn't any time for such matters as teaching me literacy when there was busywork to be done."
"I had no idea."
"Yes. Lady Valerica was quick to rectify that."
"I can't imagine she was too pleased about that."
"Your mother showed her affection in… her own way."
"Oh?"
A ghost of a smile moved over Marian's lips. "In a manner you grew quite familiar with during your own studies."
"I'm not sure if I would've considered that affection," Serana responded with a chuckle. It spread to Marian, her hand instinctively moving to cover her mouth. To stifle the toothy grin that her smile had blossomed into, muffle the laughter that slipped off her tongue.
It swirled together with the muted wail of twisted echoes grazing on the window.
"How'd you end up with us then?" It felt like such a strange question to ask- but she supposed, in a way, that Marian had just always been there. Since they day she was birthed.
She found herself trying to picture Marian in her younger years for a moment, in that fuzzy span of time where the handmaiden hadn't quite grown into a woman- but she came up empty, not even able to recall a hazy silhouette.
"The same way a lot of orphans in Skyrim find their way in life."
"Oh."
"Living in the wilderness like that had many risks, risks I was woefully oblivious to at the time. I was lucky enough to have survived."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all happened so long ago now. I'm not sure if I ever quite got over the grief- if that's even possible- but I think I've… accepted it."
Marian absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, the soft upward curve in her lips enduring for the moment. "Lord Harkon found me when he was out hunting. Out in the steppes overlooking the Reach. My clothes were in rags, I was starving, and the rains had not been kind to my body. He took me in."
Her fingers ran along the braids of black wrapping above her ears.
"He had taken down an elk and rabbit just earlier in the day. The rabbit was for food. The elk he said was mostly for sport- but I learned later that Lady Valerica often found use for the organs and antlers. He ensured I was well fed that night he found me."
"Was my mother there with him?"
"No. He was alone."
"Oh."
Marian's hands fell back into her lap.
"Lady Valerica was quite incensed when he took me with him back to the castle, in fact. Not the most pleasant of surprises for her, but… she came around. With some convincing."
A stiff silence fell between them. The flash of brightness over Marian's expression waned. Her fingers strained against the black fabric of her garments.
"I swore that I would serve the best interests of the family until the end of my days. That did not change when Lady Valerica passed down her blood to me, after the ritual."
"I understand."
Their eyes met at last. "You've been troubled ever since you returned."
"I didn't realize it was that obvious," Serana said dryly, Marian's words nonetheless resonating with her still heart in terrifying tremors.
Their speech tapered off again, but neither broke away from the gaze that they shared. Marian's fingers wrung themselves, gripping each other as though squeezing the water out of a soaked washcloth.
At last, her eyes dipped downwards, her head bowing.
"I swore that I would serve you, just as I serve your father. I will not speak of what you say to me now to him- or anyone else."
She said it with such tranquility, in spite of the unease visibly gripping her lithe body.
"I… would only ask the same favor of you in return."
Serana breathed, feeling as though a weight were expelled from her chest at last. She opened her mouth, intending to give her thanks, her breathless assurance- but the dam that had been holding back the turmoil churning within her dead heart finally seemed to burst, flooding out in soft tremors.
"He's gone insane."
Marian's brow softened, her fingers settling into a steepled position in her lap.
"I spoke to him, just earlier. I couldn't believe what I was hearing from him."
"What did he say?"
Razor flecks of ice and snow strafed across the window in a muted assault beyond the thick maroon drapes cast over it.
"He doesn't even see me as his daughter anymore," she whispered.
The thinnest slivers of white light peeked in from beneath the curtains. Even dulled by the snow, it cast harsh rays onto the floor.
"He's just consumed by this prophecy. Nothing else matters to him now."
Her fingers curled, gripping the thin fabric of her breeches. "I don't know what I was expecting, coming back here. I always had a feeling something was wrong, before all this- just… nothing to this extent."
"You couldn't have known," Marian replied softly.
Serana shook her head, hands reaching up to her cheeks. They turned their agitated grip onto the faintly salt-crusted flesh there instead, tracing down her jaw.
Her nails twisted in the skin behind her ears. "Maybe… if I had just seen the signs earlier…"
A cold grip laid itself on her wrists. Delicate fingers crept gingerly up her palms, beckoning them away. Marian knelt before her, a steely firmness gripping the soft amber around her irises. "It would not have helped," she murmured, the supple tones of her voice easing the tension in Serana's arms. "Lady Valerica and Lord Harkon bothwere too firmly set on their own goals for you to have turned them away."
"I should have tried. Something."
"It would not have changed the outcome."
Serana's fingers fell away from her head, white veins streaking over the surface of her nails. Slowly, Marian eased them down.
"Sometimes we must simply accept things for what they are. If we push too hard in a bid to make things better… just look at Lord Harkon."
Serana allowed her arms to fall as Marian released her grip, standing up and backing away. The handmaiden's hands clasped before her, shoulders bent inwards ever so slightly.
"I feel your pain, My Lady. I think to myself often if I could have done anything to change it- if I still can. But I'm just a handmaiden."
Her knees bent, figure weightlessly sliding back down onto the bed. Her hair bobbed, catching some stray strands of light shining in through the frosted glass.
Silence descended over them once more, their eyes cast down onto the stone floor. Limbs limp with eons of exhaustion. Marian let her hands fall away from her lap entirely, palms resting on the velvet sheets.
Serana's held on to her knees.
"It's not just about making things better," she said, a husky dryness rumbling in her throat. From the edge of her periphery, she saw Marian head perk up. Watching her.
"My father wasn't content with everything we already had- he threw it away, pursuing a vague and grandiose dream, a possibility of something with impacts too far beyond what he could comprehend. He did this. Not my mother, not me, not you. And not one of us stood up against him when we should've."
"There was nothing we could do."
"You keep saying that, but how do you know for certain? My mother was as much the head of the family as he was. The court would've listened to her. But instead, she ran away." A bitterness creeped into her voice at those last few words.
"That's not fair to her."
"We kept telling ourselves it wasn't worth doing something about, or we couldn't do anything about it," Serana continued, ignoring Marian's half-hearted protest. "Maybe that was true- but now we have to live with the fact that we let everything fall apart around us. Wasting away in this mess."
Her own gaze remained glued to the ground, watching Marian's boots press flat against the stone. Serana anticipated backlash, a defiant riposte to her biting words- she pressed her own lips flat, waiting for it.
She was not prepared for the ghostly whisper that grazed on her ears instead.
"I fear the end is coming."
Serana looked up.
"There are rumors around the court of an ancient order of vampire hunters rallying in The Rift. Nobody seems to have any concern about that at all- even after learning Lokil's entire warband was wiped out. How many of them do you think there are? How many more do you think would have flocked to their ranks by now already, after hearing of the destruction Lokil wrought upon their lands? Fura and Garan sit at their tables, advocating for the culling of our own kind. The 'impure' scattered throughout the mainland, offspring wrought from their incursions over the centuries to begin with. Lord Harkon rarely ever sets foot outside his crumbling study for anything. Vingalmo and Orthjolf care more for competing for his attention than actually advising him."
Marian's eyes glared back at her, her hands visibly trembling within her lap. "My duties are the only thing I can even bear to focus on now. And you want to tell me that this is all happening, that the entire clan is driving itself into the open arms of Oblivion because I didn't do anything?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what do you mean?" Asked Marian, a hysterical desperation tremoring through her body. "You speak in sweeping statements and incomprehensible riddles, just as your mother and father. I… I-"
She trailed off, her tranquil mask shattering as she gripped her shivering arms with quaking hands. There was a hot flare of anger that surged in Serana's veins- a sudden rush of indignancy, that Marian would dare to compare her to Harkon when her eyes were finally opening-
…
The feeling evaporated as quickly as it came.
"I- I don't want to see you fall down the same path that they did."
The adrenaline flushed out of her veins, but she found herself rising up instead of slumping back down.
She strode over to Marian, the handmaiden's speech rapidly devolving into hitching breaths with fragments of words spilling out of her lips.
Serana knelt down, but rather than merely taking a hold of Marian's wrists, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The tremors that rocked Marian's body raced through to her own, running down to her bones. Marian's tears grazed against her cheek.
As Serana rested her chin on Marian's shoulder, she couldn't stop herself from reflecting on how much easier this was without a heartbeat pulsing against her skin.
A shaky sigh escaped her lips, her eyes closing as she shut out the renewed thoughts bubbling up against her mind. Her grip on Marian tightened.
"I'm sorry."
0-0-0
She felt as though she could fall asleep in Marian's embrace, after her crying had faded away and her tears had dried. After she had flushed the mucus out of her nostrils with a handkerchief and wiped away the streams that had slipped onto Serana's coat. Gods only knew she needed the rest.
But she pulled away, a chilling steeliness having taken hold of her muscles. She looked Marian in the eyes, their faces mere inches from touching.
"I'm not going to follow in my father's footsteps. Or the court's."
Marian nodded, her lips scrunching together.
"But I can't just sit by and let them drag us down with them. And deep down you know just as well as I do that doing nothing at this point isn't the right answer."
"But I can't do anything," she repeated, her whisper hoarse. "I have no leverage. I have no magickal prowess. I cannot hope to stand against them in any capacity."
"Then come with me."
"Wh- and go where?"
"Anywhere but here," Serana said firmly, despite the newly unearthed doubts swirling in her mind. "I can't take on the whole court myself, just as the clan can't take on all of Tamriel on its own."
Marian's eyelids sagged.
"You want to run away," she stated, her posture deflating at the sudden revelation. "Just as your mother did."
"No. I'm not leaving you alone like she did."
She shook her head.
"Marian, listen. The first thing you and I need to do is get out of here. We can come up with a plan later."
"You're lying," she hissed out, unable to even so much as face Serana even with her eyes squeezed shut. "You don't care if the clan burns down anymore. You just want to be out of the fire by the time it overtakes them."
"Even if it came to that, staying here and dying with the rest wouldn't do anyone any good."
Serana freed one of her hands from behind Marian's back, sliding it out to her front tentatively. Marian did not pull away as Serana wiped away the fresh tears streaming down her cheek.
"We'll travel light. Just you, me, and the Elder Scroll."
The ebony glint of Hestla's gift caught her eye.
"The sword too. It'll serve us well for a while, then we can sell it off for a hefty sum of gold once we're in the clear."
A whimpering grimace overtook Marian's face, her gritted teeth showing through her lips.
"We can use the waste chute to get into the undercroft. That's how mother and I slipped away the first time around- nobody would want to be around there normally, even less so during daytime. I'm not as adept as my mother is in Alteration magick, but I learned enough to know how we can break our fall. Nobody will suspect it."
"Do you not know of the exile lurking in the undercroft?" She said from between her teeth.
"Better than you know," Serana responded, a melancholy briefly resurging. "But it's more doable than rushing out through the front door."
She freed her other hand from behind Marian, using it to set her face straight towards her own. "We can do this."
Marian's eyes opened. Her lips closed, a lump visibly sliding down her throat as she gulped. Slowly, she reached up to Serana's wrists, grasping them again with her cold fingers.
"I can't."
Her fingers grazed against air as Marian pried her hands away from her cheeks. "I'm just a handmaiden," she repeated. "My place is here. In the castle. If you bring me with you, I will only slow you down."
"I-"
"And if you fail to escape, then that won't do anyone any good."
Serana knelt there in silence, gazing at Marian in desperation. Marian did not budge.
Her lips fell open, a half-conjured plea dying on her tongue as soon as it met the cold air.
She couldn't shake it anymore.
The guilt.
The last time she'd tried to play benevolent- try to help out a mortal down on his luck- she'd ended up damning him.
She couldn't let it happen again to Marian.
She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath.
"You stay safe, okay?"
"I will be fine, My Lady. I have survived well enough for all these centuries past- this will be no different."
She rose from the bed, Serana following in suit. She felt hands trail along her body, hands smoothing out the creases in her coat like the sheets on her bed.
Marian's boots clacked against the stone as she marched over to the nightstand, tucking the Elder Scroll under one arm and the sword under her other. She returned seconds later, serene blankness set into her porcelain visage once more. She set down the sword briefly, using both hands to ease the leather strap anchored to the Elder Scroll over Serana's shoulders.
Serana remained still as Marian bent down to pick up the blade, finally offering it to her, with the sheathed flat of it resting in her palms.
She took it without further ceremony, parting from Marian reluctantly.
The handmaiden seemed to notice, ushering her over to the door herself when Serana still did not move after several more moments.
The door creaked open on rusted hinges.
"I'll come back for you," Serana whispered. "I promise."
"You need not promise anything, My Lady. You should be on your way. I shall clean your bed again, and act as though none of this transpired."
Marian made to close the door but seemed to hesitate for a moment. They shared one last gaze before she pushed down on the aging wood.
And then, as the door locked in place with a dull thud, they were alone once again.
0-0-0
She didn't allow the somberness to weigh down her feet as she made her way to her destination this time. Mentally though, each step she took felt as though it was grinding through a wall of sludge. The halls were entirely silent now, even the incense candles that littered the braziers along the walls of some paths having burned out into gently smoking lumps of wax.
Even so, she eyed the shadows warily, one hand reluctantly hovering over the sword sheathed at her hip the entire time.
She'd never had to kill one of her kin before. The thought that the possibility she'd have to do just that for the first time in her life barely even left a ripple in the slow churn of thoughts within her mind.
Too much was at stake now for hesitation.
The metal gate to the cattle pens screeched open on its hinges, every inch she pushed it seeming to elicit a higher pitch squeal.
The cattle that laid beyond barely even looked up from their cages.
Serana marched past them, carefully avoiding the few empty gazes that had been set blankly towards the door before she'd entered.
She blew a breath out her nose as she faced the grimy trapdoor leading into the waste chute, a few bones with scraps of flesh still clinging to them strewn around the lever. She gave them a wide berth, clomping both soles of her boots down onto the oaken slabs. They creaked slightly under her weight.
Her right hand rested on the lever, and she closed her eyes for a moment, assured that it was safe enough to do so. Taking those brief few seconds to wipe herself of any lingering doubts was arguably even more important.
Her fingers flexed around the lever's bare metal handle, scraping off flakes of decade-old fat that crusted its surface.
The plunge would be short enough that the effects of Slowfall would last even if she cast it now. She just had to make sure she did it right.
Maybe it was better that Marian stayed behind. Her mother had at least been able to count on her to support herself with a spell cast- having to take of someone else as well would be… difficult.
…
She breathed, opening her eyes, and let the cold air flush through her veins as the weight of her entire body seemed to evaporate from her very flesh and bone. Even the burden of the Elder Scroll eased off her shoulders in that moment, leaving her in a state of floating clarity.
Yes.
It was for the best.
With a mighty tug of her right arm, the motion feeling practically effortless, she pulled down on the lever.