[Author's Note]

As some of you may have noticed, August 15th marks three years since I started writing this story!

I'm not one for fancy speeches, and I don't think this little fan novel of mine is anything important enough to warrant one. However, this little story, which originally started as some self-indulgent fanfic designed to self-righteously "fix" the spots in Skyrim's writing I had problems with, has slowly warped into the most ambitious and important projects in my life. So I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who have seen me spilling my brain and soul out onto the pages for these past three years, and decided to stick around anyway.

Thank you for your patience with my slow uploads, as it is your own impatience that often gave me the final push I need to finish another chapter. Thank you for the feedback, good and bad, as all of it helps me grow as a writer and improve this story of mine. Thank you to those who told about this story to your friends, and to those who prefer to enjoy it on their lonesome.

And above all, thank you for reading. See you next chapter :)


Fredas, the 21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


Saya never considered herself to be a physically weak person. She was no strongman by any means, but one still needed a level of fitness to constantly come out alive from life-or-death situations while carrying around half their own body weight in equipment. But even then, it still took her five minutes and two breathers to get the rusted lever going and finally open the back gate of Dimhollow Keep. The creaking gears and clattering chains did not instill her with much confidence, but thankfully the mechanism had not completely rotted away and did its job well enough when the gates opened with a satisfying click.

The redhead felt a slight breeze hit her face upon leaving the castle. She could not see this from the balcony when she first entered the underground, but the cavern floor did not stretch indefinitely. Saya felt acutely, almost uncomfortably aware of that fact now, while she was walking across a thin dilapidated bridge. Beyond a low border that barely reached her knees, she could see nothing - the way it looked from this angle, the entire castle was positioned on an enormous cliff, after which there was naught but a chasm, so deep that no light could reach its bottom.

Ancient, monumental stalagmites protruded from the darkness, sometimes joining with the stalactites that hung from above into enormous stone pillars. The bridge Saya walked across led her to one such stalagmite. It looked to be the largest of the lot, though her perspective didn't leave much room for assessment. Its top section looked as though it was chiseled off, transforming the stone structure into a flat, vaguely round platform with uneven edges. A thick stone fence encircled the area, with arches connecting each column that comprised the structure. Atop every other pillar, those menacing statues continued to stare down at the Dunmer - winged beasts with bat-like faces and clawed humanoid limbs.

Once Saya set foot on the platform, it immediately struck her just how empty it felt. What she saw could best be described as a stone garden - a web of brick pathways leading to dozens of lone pedestals, lined up into rows. Her brain felt like it almost needed to complete the picture with greenery, with vines wrapped around each and every column, bushes and trees lining the paths. And yet, this place was completely devoid of life in a very uncomfortable manner, as though it's not like greenery was there at some point but later died, but more so like it rejected the notion of housing any living creature to begin with.

The Dragonborn continued her walk, curiously looking around. This has to be it, right? This is what the vampires were seeking. She still questioned what for, in the back of her mind, but for now she was content with exploration. Journal in hand, she commented on just about anything that seemed even remotely noteworthy. It wasn't long until she got around to inspecting the pedestals more closely, even drawing a small sketch of how they looked. They were thin, tall and shaped like very elongated pentagonal prisms. There appeared to be no decoration on the sides, and they seamlessly blended with the floor below. One thing that caught her attention, though, was an indent on the top - a small opening in the shape of a hand, slightly larger than her own but still unmistakably something fit for a person.

And, of course, she only thought about all the potential traps and dangers after she placed her hand into it.

Immediately, the handprint on the stone lit up with a blood red glow. Saya heard a low, muffled rumble and stepped back, putting away her diary as she watched one of the larger pieces of the road separate from the floor. The noise got more audible as she watched the pentagonal shape slowly slide out of the ground, mostly featureless except for two vertical lines that marked the front side. The light emitting from the handprint pulsed once before slowly vanishing while the lines, in turn, filled up with the red glow themselves. Then, something quietly clicked down below, and the front panel of the revealed structure slid off like a lid.

Saya put a hand over her mouth to suppress her urge to vomit. Inside this stone casket was a person, a Redguard man of a medium build and a hairy, muscular torso. He was topless, and only torn rags covered his legs and groin. From his face, he looked no older than forty, but he was uncharacteristically pale. The repulsive part, however, was below - specifically, his left shoulder, which was completely missing its corresponding limb. The wound was ugly and torn, as though it was the bite of a beast that caused it, and the blood had long since dried around the torn muscles. And the smell, oh gods, the smell...

Suddenly, the man's eyes shot open and he drew a sharp, strangled breath. He stumbled out of the coffin, falling to his knees and supporting himself with one arm. He appeared confused, to say the least, looking around frantically as he tried to identify where he was. Saya practically jumped back, color draining from her face when he suddenly screamed, the remaining pieces of gnawed bone moving around as he tried to use a limb that wasn't there. The scabs began to tear, blood slowly dripping from the reopened wounds. The man collapsed onto the floor completely, shrieking with an inhuman voice as he thrashed on the floor and bent in agonizing ways. Saya did not register what exactly was happening until she noticed the remaining clothing on him get ripped into pieces as his muscles swelled, his thick body hair transforming into fur and his face stretching into a bestial shape. The screaming turned into yelping and howling, and the bleeding only intensified as the transformation caused the wound to open even more.

It was then that Saya couldn't bear to watch any longer and pulled out her sword, plunging the blade into the werewolf's neck and ending it where it lay. The creature released one last stilted breath before going still. The Dragonborn then quickly left the corpse behind, almost kicking it away as she returned to the pathways.

Containers. Those things were containers for people. So if the vampires were after them, then… They weren't after something. They were after someone.

The Dragonborn went on to open a few more caskets to test this hypothesis, writing down each and every one of her results. The second chamber contained a vampire, one in incredibly poor condition. It looked very withered and lanky, as though it was on the verge of starvation when it was placed into the casket. After waking up from the slumber, it tried to attack the redhead but was quickly overpowered and killed. In the third one was a dremora, seemingly unbound. After awakening in a very disoriented state, the daedra muttered something about obnoxious weaklings before returning to Oblivion. Inside the fourth, yet another vampire. This one was injured, a large gash running across its torso, splitting its stomach open and cutting through four of the bottom ribs. Upon awakening, it bled out within two minutes.

Fortunately, common sense did eventually kick in, and so the girl decided to cut it there before she released anything she couldn't handle. After reorienting herself, she found the main pathway and returned to it, scribbling down her notes as she went.


I think I figured out the trend.

Every single casket contained one person inside of it. Said person is always in some kind of lethargic sleep, from which they almost immediately wake up after the lid comes off. Until then, it looks like all of their senses are dulled - none of them seem to know where they are, or how they got here. The ones that were damaged immediately start feeling the pain from their injuries, as though they were still fresh, but those who were fatally wounded are still alive when they come out of the chamber. It's only after their body "catches up" that they feel the brunt of whatever conditions they carry.

It's like they're placed into some kind of… Stasis. The inside walls of the caskets are absolutely lined with various magical glyphs, and I can barely recognize any of them. The only ones that seem familiar are the illusion glyphs located near the back of the head - the basic framework here is that of a calming spell, but far more advanced than anything I've ever seen. I'd love to study them if I had the time, but I think that without an expert mage by my side I wouldn't be able to tell what any of it means anyway.


The girl put away her diary as soon as she finished scribbling those words. As she continued walking, there was a steady feeling of something being slightly off, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. It was only when she stopped in her tracks to take a proper look around that she realized what was going on - as she ventured closer and closer to the center of the massive garden, the amount of pedestals was drastically decreasing. In fact, the road seemed to wrap around itself, forming a wide circular platform some thirty meters in diameter. The circle was formed out of multiple stone rings, all of them segmented into equal parts and each one being slightly lower than the last.

At the absolute center of it was, of course, a pedestal, though this one of a different design from the others. The overall shape remained more or less identical, still the same pentagonal pillar that was about waist height and lacked any kind of decoration on the sides. One feature, however, was distinct from the others - rather than having a flat top with a handprint on it, this one was topped off with a dome shape, a round button in the middle of it almost begging to be pressed.

If there were any doubts about what she would do upon seeing a button, they were immediately dispelled within the 0.2 seconds it took her to press it.

The first thing she felt immediately afterwards was pain. A quick, piercing sensation right in the middle of her palm. The girl hissed and yanked her hand away, only managing to catch a small glimpse of the sharp metal spike that quickly retracted back into the pillar. Saya didn't have the time to be angry about the sizable wound in her hand as the ground started to shake beneath her feet. The rings comprising the floor started to rearrange themselves, spinning around erratically until all of them were perfectly aligned and a bright purple glow began to emanate between the massive stone plates. The pedestal began to rise up as the structure beneath it slowly revealed itself, just as featureless as the previous ones but noticeably more massive.

When the grinding of stone finally came to a halt, Saya stood next to a stone casket which was almost four meters tall, more than doubling her height, and every single nook and cranny of it was radiating that same purple light. Yet, when she expected to see the lid open, there instead was nothing. The glow kept pulsing, fading out and lighting up in an undulating rhythm as it grew brighter with every flicker. Saya's ears twitched and rang as dozens upon dozens of crackling sounds erupted from around her, and as she looked around she could see that every single pedestal she had previously passed by was now activated, their respective containers sliding out of the ground accompanied with the tortured noises of ancient machinery.

This cacophony of light and sound continued until the last of the caskets finally rose. The purple glow was as bright as could be, but something about it felt… Off. Hesitantly, Saya reached out for the casket lid, touching it, and immediately the purple light flickered to a deep red. Then, a bright orange. Then, a vivid blue. This continued back and forth until the changes became rapid, too painful for the eyes to follow, and then ended with a flash of pure white which slowly faded out, leaving the entire garden plunged into its natural darkness.

The casket lid hissed as air entered it for the first time in centuries, slowly moving downwards into the stonework. Saya lifted her eyes to look at the inside, and for the first few moments, she saw nothing. The object appeared to contain only darkness, and the Dunmer was almost beginning to feel frustration from having gone through all this for nothing. But as the lid reached the halfway point, there was finally something - or rather, someone. First, she saw a head of shoulder-length hair, with two carefully tied braids resting above the owner's forehead and hanging down along the sides. Long bangs fell upon the woman's face, covering it with a natural curtain of black strands, but one could still see the unnaturally pale, almost snow-colored skin of a vampire. Her clothing had a sense of regality even with all the dust covering it, consisting of a blood-red tunic with a contrasting black corset, complimented by a pair of pants, boots, and a cloak crafted from the same black leather. Most notably, though, was the woman's position. Rather than simply standing with her hands at her sides, her arms were crossed over her chest in a tight grip over some kind of large cylindrical object that was almost glowing in her hands.

As soon as the lid was fully lowered, the woman didn't even take a single step out of her casket before she collapsed and Saya had to catch her. At a closer glance, the redhead could see now that the vampire was holding some sort of scroll, and she had a feeling she really didn't want to see that thing damaged if possib- holy SHIT, it's so heavy.

"Nngh…" The vampire grunted, lifting her head and looking at the person before her. Just as Saya had assumed, her eyes were the same iridescent red she'd seen on other vampires. "You… Where is… Who…?"

The Dragonborn had just opened her mouth to answer when a loud booming sound interrupted her. She glanced around, not sure where it was coming from until she noticed that there were… A lot more opened caskets than she remembered.

Oh no.

"Hey so, I know you have a lot of questions and believe me - feeling is mutual, but we should get out of here first. Can you walk?" Saya backed away slightly, still holding the woman up by the shoulders. She looked a bit disoriented, but if the previous captives were any indication, she should be coming to right about now.

"I… I believe so." Though she initially stood on wobbly legs, the woman eventually composed herself enough to follow Saya as the two of them quickly walked through the garden, which now felt a lot more crowded with the reverberating murmurs of confusion and distress from the reawakened captives. Dying gasps from the injured, unanswered questions from the bewildered, enraged howls from the imprisoned. All of them went ignored for the sake of the pair's safety, lest they attract attention of the unwanted kind.

By the time they made it midway through, the crowds around them were beginning to grow more active. People began to stumble about, looking for a way out and talking to one another. Incoherent mumbling turned into chatter and conversation, occasionally even arguments. Stragglers were wandering around the garden, and a good few were heading towards the exit. Saya's newfound companion was lagging behind a fair bit, and the Dunmer found herself having to stop and slow down her own pace to not lose her in the mob.

Of course, nothing was as simple as a walk. When the first of the prisoners managed to reach the exit, there was a moment of pause as the ornate arches that served as the border of the massive platform lit up red. This was followed shortly by a blaring noise that boomed in the heads of everyone present, making the people erupt into curses and cover their ears until the alarm subsided. A brief bout of silence fell upon the garden, during which people erupted with fear and bewilderment, everyone and their proverbial dog speculating on what could've happened. This continued until suddenly, a large winged silhouette swooped down over the bridge, grasped the first of the runaways with its hands, and finally landed on the garden floor while slamming the poor man into the stone with a loud wet crash.

When the dust settled, Saya managed to discern an all too familiar shape. It was a tall humanoid of some three and a half meters in height, sporting a broad, well-defined muscular physique that was practically carved into the stone-grey skin. The hands were massive and possessed only three clawed fingers, while the creature's legs looked more avian than human-like. A pair of enormous bat-like wings covered the beast's back, growing out of its disproportionately wide shoulders that transitioned seamlessly into the head, which itself was a horned visage that was vaguely reminiscent of a vampire lord, only more bestial, more feral.

I fucking knew one of these was coming to life.

The gargoyle released a loud roar that sounded like something between a bear's growl and an eagle's screech, and panic grasped the minds of the crowd. The sluggish, disorderly movements immediately turned to terrified sprinting. The creature was joined by another, and then two more as the statues around the garden came to life, breaking out of the stone they were encased in like birds shattering their eggshells.

The black-haired woman stood there like a spooked deer, the slaughter unfolding before her eyes. The beast before her tore the man apart like it was nothing, intestines spilling to the floor as the spine was twisted until it snapped and the top half became separated from the bottom half. Yet, the creature seemed to have no interest at all in feeding, only in goring the closest unfortunate victim into red pulp. So when its eyes settled on the vampire girl, she froze in her boots and had all but accepted her fate before Saya suddenly grabbed her by the forearm and started dragging her along, the two of them running for the bridge.

"Don't just stand there, for fuck's sake!" The redhead cursed, trying to move through the stampede. The woman did her best to keep up, trying not to look at the crowd while the gargoyles periodically swooped down to toss an unfortunate few off the bridge. Even as she closed her eyes she could still feel the assault as the stone shook beneath her feet, her grip growing tighter around the scroll.

It was when Saya's grasp around her arm vanished that she opened her eyes, frantically searching for the Dunmer. And there she was, lying on her back as a gangly man pushed her to the floor, holding her down as he babbled incoherently.

"Ahh- it's you, it's you that released us! I knew it, I just knew by the smell, please, please, I just want- I need a taste, just a little bit, what would it hurt to try, right?!" He laughed maniacally as she fought to knock him back into the crowd, her injured hand pushing against his forehead while she tried to keep away his sharp teeth. What the starving vampire lacked in strength, he certainly made up with enthusiasm.

The black-haired woman found herself paralyzed with terror once more. For a brief moment, a thought entered her mind. She was free now, and this half-blood that opened her casket was not a vampire. She didn't need to do anything - in fact, her best bet would be to run past them right now and head for the exit as fast as she could. Find one of her people, make it home, be safe again…

She pursed her lips as she made a decision.

The next moment, Saya felt her assailant give out as he hissed in pain. Blood spilt from his mouth and nose and he turned his head, the shiny blade of a silver-lined dagger sticking out of the back of his neck. The woman with the scroll stepped back as his gaze locked onto her and his face contorted into fury. That momentary distraction was all that Saya needed to yank the dagger out of the wound and thrust it into the man's eye before throwing him off herself.

"Thanks." The Dunmer huffed, standing up and offering the dagger back to the woman, who held it kind of awkwardly in her hand. People stormed past them as gargoyles continued to circle above and Saya followed their movements for a few seconds before she grabbed someone by the shoulder and tossed them in front of herself. As the creature swooped down and grabbed its next victim, there was a small clearing in the crowd and the Dragonborn once again nodded towards her companion. "Let's go."

The black-haired woman nodded jerkily, a bit unsettled, but ran after her quickly retreating savior without delay.


The entire keep is coming to life. I thought we would be safe indoors, but I guess I didn't notice all the fucking statues around while they weren't MOVING YET.

We ended up just running through the castle and not looking back. The gargoyles were going bloody insane, dashing in and out of windows and even breaking through walls. Luckily I didn't need to fight any of them and we managed to evade most of everything, and we were quickly on our way out by the time anything could catch up.

Looking back at it from the balcony, I almost feel a little bad leaving the place behind to crumble. It was so pretty, too. Ah well, I guess it just isn't meant to be sometimes.

It's nighttime outside already, so we set up camp in the mountainside just south of Stonehills. I considered going down into the village, but figured we might be better off laying low somewhere quiet in case any of the other escapees made it out. Though I doubt it, since I still had to do the gesture to open the door.

Shit, all those people are probably going to starve down there, aren't they. Well, unless the gargoyles get to them first… Damn it, now I'm going to think about this all week, aren't I?


"What are you writing?"

Saya looked up from the journal, pulled out of her thoughts by the voice. The night was dark and cold, so the campfire provided a nice reprieve from the surrounding elements. Unfortunately, the Dunmer was not equipped for traveling with another person, so her rescuee was currently sitting on the ground, hugging her knees. Not the most comfortable of positions but Saya did need the sleep and she wasn't exactly comfortable with keeping a vampire too close to herself.

"Hm? Ah, it's a journal. Helps organize my thoughts a bit when things get hectic." The Dunmer drummed along the page idly before closing her journal. She could finish later, she wasn't going to sleep quite yet. "So, what's your name?"

The vampire relaxed slightly, loosening her self-hug. The scroll was still lying in her lap, as she adamantly refused to let it out of her immediate reach at any point whatsoever. "Serana. My name is Serana." She sounded almost a bit uncomfortable with the introduction, like she was hiding something. She was not very good at it. "What about you?"

"Saya is fine. Nice to meet you." Saya gave her a half-hearted salute. Serana squinted slightly, unsure if that was meant to be funny, and instead just nodded in response. A few moments of silence passed before the Dunmer shifted to a more comfortable position, stretching her legs out. "So, Serana… Why were you locked away like that?"

The tension returned to the vampire's posture immediately. She almost curled up a bit, noticeably more defensive about the subject. "That's… It's complicated." Serana looked to the side, pursing her lips slightly in discomfort. Her grip on the scroll also got noticeably tighter. "I'm- Don't get me wrong, I am grateful that you saved me, but it's… It's personal."

The redhead only shrugged, as it was obvious pressuring her wouldn't get much in the way of results. Instead, she calmly tended to the fire, appearing almost a bit disinterested. She was still internally debating what to do with this one. Now, that cave crawl didn't leave Saya in top shape, but from their getaway she could also tell that Serana was probably not the fighting type. If all else failed, she could dispatch her pretty easily here and now. Probably.

"Did my father send you?" Serana asked. Saya lifted her eyes off the fire and saw that the girl was now staring down at it, as though avoiding her gaze. "I was expecting someone… Well, someone like me, to be the one to find me."

"No, he didn't." Father, huh. Runaway daughter? Though considering she was locked up, maybe she got kidnapped instead. "Is he looking for you? Have you been locked away for a while?"

"That is a good question." Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she moved one hand from the scroll to her chin, thinking. Saya raised a quizzical eyebrow as the girl seemed to almost strain as she struggled to remember. "I… I can't really tell. It feels like a long time. Who is the High King of Skyrim?" The redhead snorted. "What's so funny?"

Saya waved it off. "Oh, it's just something of a heated topic recently." She sighed. Probably not appropriate to joke about that, now that she thought about it. No joke is worth the lives of that many people. "The High King's spot has been vacant for the past few months, and now people are having a Civil War about it."

"Oh, wonderful." The flat delivery was practically dripping with sarcasm. "Good to know the world did not get boring in my absence. Who are the contenders?"

"Ulfric Stormcloak and Elisif the Fair, the Jarls of Windhelm and Solitude respectively. The Stormcloak is a rebel who started a whole movement earlier this year when he killed the last High King as a sign of protest to the Great War's peace conditions. Now half the province is wearing blue under his banner, and last I heard they're trying to make Skyrim independent with the power of angry farmhands and strongly-worded speeches." Saya explained, lying back on her bedroll and closing her eyes, still gesturing with her hands as she continued. "Elisif was the King's widow, and the current Jarl of Solitude. She's… Something of a figurehead, from what I gathered. Tullius is making most of the war-related decisions, she's only there to be a yes-man for the Empire." She sighed heavily, putting her hands behind her head. "A right fetching mess, this whole thing is."

"Empire? What…" Serana's face and voice both warped with confusion, and even a little bit of fear. "What Empire?"

Saya paused for a moment. Ah, right. She turned over onto her side, looking at the bewildered brunette. "You know, the Empire? Third Empire of Man? Capital province Cyrodiil, ruled by the Medes, from the Imperial City?"

The vampire's expression only grew more grim at her statement. "Isn't- wasn't Cyrodiil an Emperor's name? Since when is it a place?"

An uneasy silence befell the pair as now even Saya didn't know what to respond with. Cyrodiil, Cyrodiil… "You mean as in, Reman Cyrodiil? The Cyrodiil dynasty? They've been gone for like a thousand years now, the Empire changed hands three or four times since then."

Serana's eyes widened in shock and, for the first time, she let go of the scroll in her lap, grasping her head and just staring at the ground. A thousand thoughts were running through her brain, but she didn't know which ones were safe to speak of. How much should she say to this stranger? She didn't even know who sent her, what was going to happen to her?

Gods, a thousand years…

"Hey… Saya, was it?" The Dragonborn blinked at hearing her name. Serana ran the words she was about to say a few more times through her head before mustering up the confidence to ask. "The people who sent you… Who are they?"

"Vampire hunters." She replied simply. There was no reason to beat around the bush. She had already seen the corpses on their way out. "They call themselves the Dawnguard. A related organization, the Vigilants of Stendarr, recently had their headquarters attacked and burned down to the ground by vampires. One of the few that managed to escape, Tolan - you saw his body by the keep entrance - figured out that they were looking for something, and asked the Dawnguard to help him find out what. I just happened to accept the job by chance."

Serana listened to her silently. She already guessed it was something like that, but it still brought a weird sense of… Relief, to hear it said openly. At least she wouldn't be kept guessing. "Are you going to kill me, then?"

"Nah."

The vampire's eyes shot over to Saya's face, which appeared as calm as ever - almost a little apathetic. An awkward half-laugh left Serana's lips as she tried to make sense of the situation. So the people her father sent slaughtered dozens of people, they sent vampire hunters in response, one of them saves her and now says she won't kill her? Was this woman crazy?

"Though I'm not letting you go quite yet, either." The redhead added, staring back with a stern look. "If I kill you, there'll be one less vampire in the world, and that's it. But you're more important than that, right?" She flipped over onto her stomach, kicking her legs in the air while she talked. "This entire situation smells of something big. Your father, who I'm guessing is also a vampire, cared enough to find you to wage war with a province-wide order of daedra-hunters. Not to mention that you were locked up in an ancient prison from like, what. Three thousand years ago? And in the highest security cell, no less. Plus, there's still that scroll you keep lugging around- seriously, what is it?"

At this point, it was as though Serana remembered about the object she had been so carefully guarding and hastily picked it up again, holding it close to her chest with both arms. It was a long scroll, almost as tall as Serana's entire torso. Its surface was protected by an intricately crafted white-gold casing with multiple gems encrusted in its surface, and each side had a handle to unfurl the scroll without touching it. It appeared to be in pristine condition even despite the dustiness of Serana's own clothes, and the purple gems on it appeared to be faintly glowing, though not nearly as prominent as back underground.

"It is... An Elder Scroll. And it is mine." Serana slowly said. The words felt a lot more awkward leaving her mouth than they did in her head. Saya's stunned expression was all the response she really needed. "Yes, I know. Believe me, it is… Very complicated."

Saya lifted a finger to protest but just sort of opened and closed her mouth soundlessly for a few seconds while she processed the information. She then cleared her throat to compose herself. "You mean the Elder Scrolls?" Serana nodded. Goddamnit, why did she have to nod. The Dragonborn turned onto her back and groaned, rubbing her face. Fuuuuuck, things just got so much more high-stakes. "And you've just been carrying that thing around? Aren't they fragile? Do we need to be careful with it?" At first, there was a slight chuckle and Serana covered her mouth, apologizing. Then immediately after, she broke into another giggle, and eventually full-blown laughter. The redhead felt her cheeks get a little hotter. "What's so funny?!"

"S-Sorry, sorry-" The brunette apologized again, composing herself to the best of her ability. "You shouldn't worry. Nothing in this world can destroy an Elder Scroll. All that matters is that it does not get lost or fall into the wrong hands, that's all."

"You mean, like ancient vampires with a vendetta?" The Dragonborn raised an eyebrow. Serana's smile immediately faded and her shoulders sank, her hug around the scroll tightening one more. The redhead sighed, using her elbow as a support to look at her while she talked. "Look, I'm not going to pretend like this is a good situation. I don't hate vampires on principle, but on the list of 'dangerous people who should not get their hands on divine artifacts', a warmongering vampire who is centuries old is not exactly at the bottom of the list. And it's not like I can take you back to the Dawnguard, because they'll probably just kill you. What do you expect me to do?"

Serana didn't answer. The fire continued to crackle quietly, filling the air with a pleasant scent of smoke. The Dragonborn continued quietly staring at the vampire before sighing heavily once again and lying down. The stars were as bright and colorful as ever, and Saya found herself looking for this month's constellation. It only took a few seconds to identify - after all it was her birthsign this time, the Atronach. Just past the midpoint.

Gods, what the fuck was she supposed to do now?

"...You could take me home."

"Pardon?" Saya's ear twitched and she looked over at Serana, who was still sitting where she was, twiddling her thumbs and staring at the fire. "Why?"

"Well… It's not the most welcoming place, but depending on who is around, I should be safe there." She said quietly, almost quiet enough for the wind to drown out her voice. Evidently, she didn't have the best mental image of returning home. "And if I am safe, I can keep the scroll out of my father's reach. He cannot read it himself, anyway, but since he won't be searching for me anymore..."

"...Then it'll give the Dawnguard some time to prepare." Saya finished, and the vampire nodded in response, without looking back. The redhead scratched her chin. That was not a bad plan. "But what do you mean, 'depending on who's around'? Are you not sure your home would be safe?"

Serana winced. "...My mother and father had a falling out, back in the day. Ever since then, he and I have not been getting along very well." She murmured, before facepalming and audibly groaning. "Ugh. Saying it out loud makes it sound so… Common. 'Little girl doesn't get along with her father'. Must've read that story a hundred times."

Saya once again sat up, getting a better look at Serana that was unimpeded by the campfire. She was looking to the side now, off into the treeline. She also wasn't holding the scroll anymore, having moved her arms to hug her knees again. The Dunmer's expression softened slightly. "Would he hurt you?"

"NO!" The brunette sharply turned to face Saya, shouting in protest. Saya almost recoiled a bit at the sudden increase in volume, and the girl's mind finally caught up with what she had just done, at which point she averted her eyes in shame. Serana softly wrapped her arms around herself again, her voice much softer when she finally did speak up. "...Sorry. No, I do not think father would hurt me. But it has been quite a while, so…" She closed her eyes, sighing quietly. "I just think it would be… Unpleasant to run into him again."

"I see." She had the common sense not to press any further. The two of them sat in silence for a while, not really sure what to say. There was a plan now, and Saya didn't have any alternatives, so all that was left was to give it a try come tomorrow. Then, she randomly asked: "Say, do vampires sleep?"

Serana was pulled out of her own train of thought, so she took a moment to react. "Um… Kind of. We don't need to, but a lot of us do it to pass the time or rest our bodies. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." The redhead said as she got up from her bedroll. She then walked over to her stuff and proceeded to pull out her thick cloak, the one meant for colder weather, and handed it to Serana without unfurling it. "Well, if you're going to be awake, then you might as well be comfortable. And if not, then I don't see what's the harm either way."

""T-Thank you?" The vampire took the fur-lined cloak with apprehension, glancing back at Saya and then again at the cloak repeatedly. The Dragonborn, meanwhile, walked over nonchalantly back to her sleeping spot and stretched before climbing inside. "Are you… Going to sleep?"

"Yep, I'm as beat as a battering ram." She yawned, covering her mouth. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No, it's just…" Serana's lips pursed with a slight tinge of discomfort. Now that she thought about it, what she was about to say was pretty counterintuitive. "I thought that a vampire hunter would be more wary of sleeping with a vampire around."

"Yeah, well I'm not a specialist, so I guess the secrets of the trade elude me yet." Saya chuckled, rubbing her nose. The chill must've gotten to her now that the fire is starting to fade. "Besides, we're kind of in a pickle here. I need you to get information. You need me to get you home safely. If you kill me or decide to run off, it's a lose-lose situation, y'know?" There was a hesitant nod from the girl and Saya smiled, closing her eyes and flipping over on her side, facing away from the fire. "Atta girl. If you want to, consider this a test. If I can't trust you to stick around for a few hours, then I can't really trust you to keep that thingamagick you got safe from yer pa, now can I?"

Serana hummed thoughtfully. Saya considered that enough of an answer, and exhaled deeply, feeling her body finally relax after a long day. She was already starting to feel the ache in her legs from the mountain climbing… But it kind of comes with the profession, doesn't it?

A minute or two later, a soft-spoken phrase sounded in the growing darkness. "Good night to you then, Saya." Serana said.

The exhausted Saya, however, was already sound asleep.


Loredas, the 22nd of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


I was happy to see that Serana did not, in fact, take off while I was asleep. I did a sweep of all my things anyway, but they were all where I left them, so that was good. She said she kept watch once the fire went out, but everything was uneventful. Apparently there were a few animals wandering around, but none of them approached the camp.

We had a little chat about her old home. Unless her family changed locations, it should be on a secluded island off the northern coast, northwest of Solitude. After comparing my map with what she told me, it would have to be just north of Northwatch Keep, that Thalmor stronghold from Ondolemar's archives. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from Fortunata. Hope she's doing well.

Now that I've had breakfast, we'll be moving out to Morthal. From there, it's a straight road to Dragon Bridge, then wrap around mountain Kilkreath and move straight down to the coast.

But first, we have a slight detour to make. I can't say I wasn't expecting to run into this problem, but… Well, it doesn't make me any less uncomfortable with the situation, let's put it that way.

Serana's hungry.


As far as the many, many ancient Standing Stones of Tamriel were concerned, the three Guardian Stones were definitely outliers in the bunch. For starters, they were the only Standing Stones that were encountered as a set instead of individually, while most others would instead be in complete seclusion from those like it. The other notable trait was their proximity to civilization: the Guardians were not far from the beaten path, as though overlooking the settlements of mortals around them. Their Charges, meanwhile, enjoyed complete and total solitude upon solitary hills, mountain ranges, or cliffsides.

The Lord Stone was no exception. Perched proudly upon a peak overlooking the Drajkmyr Marsh to the northwest, this stone watched over Hjaalmarch as though a pleased lord would look down upon his prosperous lands. Only, Morthal was not exactly prosperous, nor was there much land to be found amongst the mud and saltwater, which would bite into the shoreline whenever the whimsical Sea of Ghosts decided it was hungry.

However, for every fish there is a fisherman. Just as the hardy people of Morthal managed to settle down in the treacherous marshland, so was even the hermetic Lord eventually "civilized" by his subjects. Unfortunately, the common folk had little interest in climbing mountains - excluding the occasional glory-seeker, of course - because ground level already held more than enough trouble for them to deal with. And so it was, that the Lord was surrounded not by loyal servants, but brigands and bandits with no better shelter for the night, lying in wait as they planned their raids unto the unsuspecting people down below from the mountainside abode of their hostage.

"Before we begin, any preferences?"

Saya and Serana talked as they were making their way to the Standing Stone. About an hour ago, they were staring at the Dragonborn's maps to find any locations where such ne'er-do-wells might have been. Then, Serana noticed a not-so-subtle smoke stack beginning to stretch into the clouds a little ways above. Cross-checking it with the map, that was indeed the location of the Lord Stone. And thus, once they packed up the camping equipment, the pair made their way southward, following the careless footsteps of local brigands up to their lair.

"I am not very… Picky, if that is the right word." The vampire said, adjusting her hood and the leather strap around her shoulder. The scroll was indeed quite heavy, and after some brainstorming, Saya figured that their best bet would be to wrap it in some cloth and have Serana carry it on her back. To her credit, Serana did volunteer to carry the backpack with camping equipment instead, but the Dragonborn insisted that everyone should carry their own stuff in case of an emergency. "Mother used to say people of different races taste differently, but I don't see it myself. She has always been something of a gourmet in that regard."

Saya hummed, thinking. She never considered whether or not blood of different races tasted any differently, but now that she gave it a minute, it made sense that a vampire would probably tell the difference. "Hmm. What about gender or body type?"

Serana turned to the redhead with a mildly disturbed look. "You are… Surprisingly easy-going about this. It is unsettling."

At that, the Dragonborn couldn't help but chuckle. "Believe me, I'm not one to judge your eating habits."

Serana raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. The journey continued until the very top of the Stone finally came into view. Both of the girls crouched behind a nearby rock, waiting to see how they should approach this situation.

"...There are three." Serana was the one to speak up. Saya looked at her questioningly, and the vampire tapped her nose. "They are not exactly clean and proper citizens. Keep one of them alive, whomever will be the easiest to restrain. I will take it from there."

Saya nodded, unsheathing her sword. "Alright, then we're going in three, two, one…"

The Dragonborn quickly leapt out from behind her cover, running up the stairs. In front of the Standing Stone was a still-burning campfire, surrounded by three bedrolls where the bandits were resting while some kind of skinned animal was getting charred for breakfast. By the time the two facing her noticed something off, Saya had already grabbed the large Nord and ran her blade through his back, feeling his body stiffen for a moment before he dropped to the ground. The Bosmer to her right quickly rolled off his seat, grabbing his bow and hastily nocking an arrow to make a shot. Immediately after, a series of razor-sharp ice spikes all stabbed into his chest and he collapsed onto his knees, helplessly gasping for a breath through clattering teeth.

The only one left was a pale Imperial man, this one of lighter physique than the Nord. He quickly grasped at the mace beside him and made a panicked downward strike. Saya quickly pulled back and got up to her feet, his weapon harmlessly bounced off the stone floor, undoubtedly making his wrist ache from the rebound. He clenched his teeth, pushing away the pain as he opened his eyes just in time for the Dunmer to deliver a hefty kick straight for the side of his head, a loud metallic clang ringing out as her steel boot clashed with the shoddy iron helmet.

The bandit fell back, his arms jerking towards his ringing ears on reflex. Saya quickly sheathed her weapon again and pushed the mace out of his reach before grabbing the helmet by the horn and yanking it off his head. Serana approached from the side, evaluating the man as she did. He looked young and relatively fit, so he would do nicely. The Dragonborn grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up to his knees, at which point she hit him once again, this time with an elbow to the jaw. As she felt his knees buckle from the knockout, she carefully circled around him and wrapped both arms around his back, holding them together with both arms and forcing him to kneel.

"Alright, I think this is about as good as it will get." She nodded in Serana's direction, beckoning her over with a head tilt. The vampire approached the dazed man, groaning through blurred vision. She took a knee, taking his head with both her hands and looking straight into his eyes with both of hers as they gleamed with a magical light. All his attempts at resisting Saya's hold suddenly stopped and he went quiet, his eyes glazing over as he looked almost asleep.

"You can let go now." She said, and the redhead complied, releasing the listless Imperial from her grasp. "And, if you would…" Serana made a shooing motion with her free hand. "It's… Awkward, if you stare. I only need a few seconds." The Dragonborn rolled her eyes slightly but nonetheless left the vampire to her devices, walking off to the ledge upon which the Lord Stone stood and occupying her with the gorgeous view of Solitude, instead.

Serana moved her arm just a little bit, allowing the man's head to rest in the palm of her hand and exposing his neck. Finally, she opened her mouth and bit down, her unnatural, stark-white fangs sinking into the skin like a hot knife into butter. Although she immediately felt the relief wash over her as her thirst was finally quenched, she couldn't help but scrounge her nose in revulsion. Back home, she was used to much more "refined" product, thralls prepared specifically for meals and thus always kept well-fed, healthy, and clean. Instead, the bandit's body reeked of sweat and other filth, while his blood possessed the vaguely familiar tangy aftertaste of alcohol.

But beggars can't be choosers, so she drank. And she drank, and she drank, and she kept drinking and drinking until she was practically gorging herself on the blood that pulsed out of the bandit's arteries. With every gulp she felt more parched, as though the centuries of hunger had suddenly caught up to her. If she needed to breathe, she would've been choking on the inflow of crimson, but as a vampire all she needed to do is keep drinking.

"Hey, hey!" Serana snapped out of her trance when she felt a hand grasp her firmly on the shoulder. Her eyes opened, and she saw that the man in her arms was now deathly pale, as though he was withering before her. She quickly stood up, dropping the lifeless corpse onto the ground with a dull thud while she recoiled with horror.

"I- I didn't mean- I did not think that I would…!" She began to mutter, stammering and stumbling over her own words as she tried to justify herself like a kid caught having broken a plate. Blood was dripping from her lips and onto her clothes, and Saya's displeased stare seemed to only intensify with each and every word that left her mouth. Every sentence seemed to get progressively shorter and quieter, her voice eventually going into a complete whisper as the Dragonborn turned around and seemed to grab something from one of the bandits. Then, Saya raised her hand, and Serana instinctively flinched, closing her eyes not to see what was going to happen.

Instead of whatever she was expecting, she instead felt a piece of soft cloth rubbing against her hair, and then there was nothing. She slowly opened her eyes again, seeing the unamused Saya staring at her, eyes half-closed. The Dunmer silently took Serana's hand, placed the cloth into it, and said: "Clean yourself. We'll be passing through a village, and 'covered in blood' isn't a good look."

The slightly stunned vampire took the rag into her hands and blinked. The Dragonborn then unceremoniously turned around and went to loot the bodies. Serana watched her for a few moments, still processing what just happened until the redhead once again looked over her shoulder and, seeing that no progress had been made, spoke: "You know, if a guard stops us because of you then I'm not helping."

With that half-joking threat, Serana had left her stupor and quickly began wiping her face, provoking a sensible chuckle from her escort, who quietly returned to picking the brigands clean.


So I've been thinking. There's this really old fort here, Snowhawk, that is supposed to serve as a gatehouse between Morthal and Solitude. And there's a really long road going from here to there, passing through Dragon Bridge, which, from what I can tell, doesn't have a name…

Well, not until now it didn't. I hereby declare this road Snowhawk's Ascent, because it leads up to the Great Arch where Solitude is.

And also, because it sounds cool.

We arrived at Dragon Bridge just as it started snowing. I guess it's close enough to winter for that to happen, but I still thought it was a little soon. Serana seems to like it. Though, vampires don't feel cold, do they? Because I am very much feeling cold and wet and I hate it.

Brr.

I rented out a room at the local spot, the Four Shields Tavern. I figured Serana wouldn't mind sharing rooms, but I let her have the bed this time. She said she didn't want to sleep but I figured her back would still appreciate a decent rest.

I just put my bedroll on the floor, next to the bed. It's comfortable enough, and I'll probably drop by Sky Haven or Breezehome later for some proper bedding.


Sundas, the 23rd of Sun's Dusk, 4E201


We got past the mountains quick enough. Partially, because I already had an idea of how to navigate after the Embassy mission. But also because Serana seemed very… Jumpy. It was like passing through there made her especially uncomfortable, but she got a little better once we passed a specific mountain. Kilkreath, I think she called it. Said that there was an old temple there that made her feel a little queasy. I guess I can look into it on the way back.


Northwatch looks almost eerily empty. I would've expected to see some corpses, but there aren't even any of those. No guard patrols, no Thalmor, no nothing. Just the occasional blood splatter. The Blades work clean when they want to, huh? I'll have to ask her later how everything went.

This area, Serana was actually familiar with. She started guiding me around to a small cove, where she found a piece of rope hidden under a rock. Tugging on it procured a small boat, enough for two or three people at most, complete with a set of paddles. So, we jumped in and started swimming. I rowed, while Serana gave instructions on where exactly to go.

Eventually, we hit land.


As the pair stepped out of the boat, they found themselves standing at the bottom of a stone road leading between two ruined, dilapidated guard towers. From the rubble on the ground, it would seem as though these used to be the remnants of a thick stone wall that surrounded the island, giving it that extra layer of protection and adding defensibility to this already stupidly obscure location. The boat was tied to a pillar at the small pier on the southern shore, left behind as the two went further in.

Now, Saya had a certain level of expectations as they traveled to Serana's home. The words 'secluded island' alone already invoked a certain set of mental images. She imagined a decently-sized estate off in the middle of nowhere, perhaps a mansion. An occasional fantasy even led her to a vision of a massive estate, with a multi-story manor to complete the picture. However, in none of her fleeting daydreams did the Dragonborn imagine this.

What she saw was an enormous, sky-scraping castle that stood above the thick mist of the Sea of Ghosts, its black walls and pyramid-like peaks contrasting against the light grey sky. The general structure seemed to be comprised of three massive towers that each grew out of the main building, which itself led into a smaller, gatehouse-like structure.

"Um. That is uh… Yep." Saya stammered out, crossing her arms with an indescribable expression. Internally, she was screaming. "That sure is a home, huh?"

Serana nodded compassionately, her expression saddened.. "It has definitely seen better days. Maybe when I have the time, I will ask whoever is in charge if repairs can be arranged." The disgust in Saya's shocked stare was, thankfully, unnoticed, as the vampire was completely consumed in her thoughts, looking off into the distance. Then, she shook her head, sighing with disappointment. "I suppose mother isn't home after all."

Saya raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know that?"

The brunette lifted her arm and pointed over at the tower to the right of the central building. Saya had to squint, but after her eyes adjusted she could definitely see some damage to the rooftop. "The eastern wing. That was where my mother used to spend most of her time. Father never cared for it, though, much to our dismay."

"Yeah… That sounds appropriate." Saya couldn't help but snicker inwardly, remembering how her own dad never bothered with much of anything around the house other than his workshop. They had to practically drag him out of there so he wouldn't forget to eat. "Alright, well… I guess it's time for your homecoming. Let's go?"

Saying that, the redhead marched off towards the castle entrance. Immediately after, she was stopped by the sensation of her cloak being pulled on.

"Wait!" Serana called out, raising her voice for what might have just been the first time since they met. Saya stopped where she was, half-turning to look at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked. There was no immediate response as the girl slowly retracted her arm back to her side. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need to rest?"

"N-No, I am fine. Thanks for asking." Serana shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I just… Wanted thank you. For freeing me, and for helping me get here." She rubbed her neck, smiling wryly. "I just realized that I never thanked you properly, so I wished to say that first."

"Oh." She smiled slightly. "You're welcome, then."

"Mhm. There is something else, too. I did not want to make any remarks on it in case it made you uncomfortable, but..." The brunette trailed off, clasping her hands together. "There is something about you. Ever since I woke up, there has been this… Persistent scent that hasn't left my nostrils wherever you are nearby. I like to think that I do a good job controlling my urges, but the others… Might not have the same restraint."

The Dragonborn's smile vanished, her expression growing a bit grim. So she did notice. "So what are you saying?"

Serana stepped forward, walking around the Dunmer and turning back to face her. "I am saying that it might be best for me to take the lead from here. You will probably get some… Less than pleasant looks in your direction, but please, just let me deal with it until everything has quieted down. Okay?"

"...Okay."

The vampire gave her escort a reassuring smile before composing herself and approaching the gatehouse. It was a tall structure, with a massive portcullis that dropped down, concealing the front gate behind itself. An old man unfamiliar to Serana stood watch there, unshaved and skinny, looking as though he hadn't seen a proper night of sleep in much longer than any healthy person should.

As soon as he sighted them from behind the metal bars, he began to shout. "Whoever approaches the gates - I don't know who you are, but know that you are not welcome here! Begone now, before I-" The words immediately became stuck in his throat as soon as Serana lowered her hood, meeting his gaze. The old man's jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide awake, as though he had just witnessed a miracle, and he immediately turned around, shouting upwards. "Lady Serana has returned! Open the gates!"

After a few seconds of delay, the clicking and rattling of old mechanisms signified the lifting of the portcullis, and Serana walked forward, opening the gate. Saya followed her close behind, shooting the watchman a quick side-eye, which he returned but did not say anything out loud. The first thing past the gate was a spacious vestibule, with two long benches by the walls along with hooks upon which a traveler could hang their overclothes. Saya was not allowed even a moment longer to look around when she heard a commanding voice ring out through the chamber.

"Who goes here?! The gatekeepers were specifically ordered to… Serana?" The speaker was an Altmer dressed in a luxurious combination of grey and gold, as is befitting of his refined features, twisted with vampirism they may be. He did not attempt to conceal his hostility in the slightest right up until it vanished in favor of surprise. "I cannot believe my eyes, is it truly you?"

Serana bowed her head, giving the Altmer a polite curtsy before she spoke. "Good day to you as well, Vingalmo. I do hope I am not intruding?" Saya's eyes narrowed slightly at the sudden change in demeanor. Her tone became much more even and self-assured, the soft and quiet voice she had been using up until now vanishing without a trace.

"No, no! Of course not! Please, come on in." Vingalmo replied hastily, entering the hall as well before announcing in a declamatory voice: "My lord! Everyone! Lady Serana has returned!"

"I guess I'm expected…" The vampire mumbled in the redhead's direction, giving her another quick glance before tilting her head in the direction of the main chamber. The Dragonborn, however antsy she was, maintained the mask of stoicism and proceeded inside, making sure not to create more than a few steps of space between the two of them.

Saya immediately felt the scent of metal prick at her nose, but she knew better than to expect metallurgy. As the pair entered the grand hall, the Dragonborn saw that despite Vingalmo's best efforts to conceal it, they did, in fact, intrude upon something - a grand feast of almost two dozen other vampires, who had gathered together and discussed whatever topics may interest them. Lethargic humans and elves lay upon long tables, some of the more enthusiastic clan members indulging themselves by drinking straight from the veins, while the more sophisticated folk enjoyed their drink in goblets, whether it was blood or wine.

On an elevated platform there was a central table, no thralls present upon it but instead occupied with three plates, one of them containing some intricately prepared meat dish or another. Three chairs were placed down behind it, the two on the sides being smaller and less decorated than the one between them, which looked more like a throne than a regular seat.

In front of the table stood a finely-dressed man whose clothes quite resembled Serana's, with a few key differences on the top half. Instead of a corset - which, no doubt, served only to emphasize the female figure for court theatrics - his chest was entirely covered by a black leather vest, while the puffy red shirt emphasized his broad shoulders with epaulets that almost looked like wings. The man himself was rather handsome, which Saya had to admit internally despite her differing preferences. He was a Nord that physically looked to be in his early forties, though she knew this was far from the truth. He had refined features which were likely a sign of his noble birth, the slightly sunken cheeks only emphasizing the strong jawline and sharp cheekbones. His long dark brown hair was tied into a ponytail, and a well-maintained circle beard engirdled his mouth.

"Serana! Ah, my eyes and ears do not deceive me after all. You have returned at last!" He raised a goblet, turning his eyes to the court, who all proceeded to do the same as he continued to speak. "I am delighted to see you, my dear. If only Valerica could have been here with us, I would have let her enjoy our reunion before putting her head on a spike." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink before placing the goblet down on the table and opening his arms.

"Yes, father." The short reply came. Saya watched as Serana quietly approached him before he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, which the girl returned, though her movements were much more mechanical than his, almost practiced. Court theatrics indeed. "I am well, thank you."

"Of course, daughter of mine. I expected nothing less of you." He said in the same low baritone, backing away slightly and placing his hands on her shoulders. Something inside Saya twitched when she watched Serana's posture stiffen immediately at his touch while he inspected her with narrowed eyes. Finally, his lips stretched into a satisfied smile and he let her go. She immediately stepped back towards the Dunmer. "Now, tell me, who is this stranger that you have brought into our hall?"

Serana nodded, gesturing towards the redhead. "This is my savior, father. She is the one who freed me from my imprisonment and delivered me here."

The man's gaze shifted from his daughter to Saya and he scratched his beard. "Is she now?" It was only after his words that the Dragonborn had become acutely aware of all the eyes locked on her. Hushed whispers traveled within the crowd, some of them derogative, others intrigued. Whatever the contents of the conversations were, it seemed as though now she was at the center of attention, and she did not feel very flattered by that fact.

With her left hand, she lowered her hood, revealing her features in full. "My name is Saya, muthsera, but I'm afraid I do not know yours." She bowed instead of the expected curtsy, not possessing the clothes nor the disposition for it.

"Pardon me, where are my manners?" He chuckled slightly, clearing his throat before returning the bow. "I am Harkon, the Lord of this court, and you stand within my home - Castle Volkihar." He lifted both arms for emphasis, gesturing around the hall as the previous whispers directed at Saya immediately ceased at the unspoken command. "By now, I expect my daughter has told you what we are?"

"She did not tell me more than I needed to know, and I did not pry. Everyone's privacy is theirs to keep." She replied briefly, stepping in front of Serana, who, despite being taller than the Dunmer, almost seemed like she was hiding behind her. "But I recognize the name of your estate. You must be of Clan Volkihar, am I correct?"

Bleh, she hated formal speech.

Harkon looked pleased with her response, at least. "Indeed. We are amongst the oldest and most powerful vampires in all of Skyrim, and I am the founder and patriarch of our bloodline." He spoke, pacing around in the table's direction as his baritone rolled across the hall. "For centuries, we have lived here, far from the cares and troubles of the world. We enjoyed our existence, our power, and our seclusion in equal measure." He picked up his goblet, taking yet another long sip from it and turning towards Saya once more, still holding it in his hand. "All that changed when my wife, Valerica, sought to betray me. In her conspiracy, she had stolen away what I valued most and disappeared, hoping to weaken me before she could return and strike me down." As the volume of his voice increased, Serana noticeably took a step away from him. "I have sent many men and women over many more years in a fruitless search, all of them promising but equally incompetent at this most important job I had for them. But you… You succeeded where they did not."

Saya noticed the cue, once again bowing her head slightly. "Thank you, muthsera."

"No, my friend, raise your head." Harkon waved his hand, and so she did. "The thanks is mine to give. You have done me a great service, and you must be rewarded appropriately. Over my long reign, I have accumulated a great many things that could interest you, and riches that most of your kind could not think to even imagine. However… To you, I offer none of them."

Saya blinked, his last comment throwing her off guard. Harkon's smirk told her that he was expecting just that. He lifted his hand and reached out to her, offering her to take it.

"I offer you my blood."

Wait. What?

"I… Beg your pardon?" The stunned girl managed to ask, considerably shaken and struggling to maintain her composure. She heard a noise behind her and turned around, seeing out of the corner of her vision that one of the court members - a male Dunmer, from what she could discern - approached Serana to escort her elsewhere. Saya shot her a distressed glance and Serana looked back, almost ashamed at having forced her into this situation.

"It is the greatest gift that is within my power to give you, Saya." Oh, she hated how her name sounded when he said it. "Accept it, and you will walk as a lion amongst sheep. You will gain power beyond your imagination, the mortals will tremble at your very approach, and not least of all - you will never have to fear death again. You shall become a respected member of my court, and I shall personally see to it that our relationship is fruitful, and most prosperous for our clan."

Serana had finally taken her seat at the table, the male Dunmer leaving her side once he was assured she did not want anything at the moment. She stared blankly at her empty plate, her lips pursed tightly and her hands grasping at the edges of her cape.

Saya averted her eyes from her again, and looked at Harkon with as reserved a look as she could muster. Her hands curled into fists, and she exhaled slowly. "...And what if I refuse?"

Harkon's smile vanished from his face, the Lord appearing thoroughly displeased. "Then you will remain prey, as all mortals do." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and stroking his beard as he pondered his decision. Maybe he is being a tad ungrateful. "I suppose that I still owe you a debt… Then, in thanks for rescuing my daughter, I shall spare your life just this once. You will be banished from my castle unharmed, but should myself or another member of my clan come across you again, your life will be forfeit." The Dragonborn's gaze narrowed, maintaining eye contact as he continued talking. Harkon noticed her continued hesitation, and his features once again changed, this time into an expression of amusement. "Perhaps, you require more convincing? Allow me to show you."

The vampire suddenly doubled over, blood pouring from his pores and seeping through his outfit as he became coated with black energy. Dark red magicka swirled around him and enveloped his body, the surface of his skin, hair, and clothing disappearing in a blur of black and crimson. Saya glanced around briefly, and saw that every single vampire in the room had suddenly lowered their head, bowing in respect. The man straightened his back and lifted his head upwards, roaring as his body lifted into the air and the layer of darkness around him was torn into shreds, peeling off him with a trace and revealing the terrifying form beneath.

"THIS IS THE POWER THAT I OFFER!"

Saya had seen vampire lords before. But whatever this creature was, it was simply on a different level. Where all of the others were monsters in their own regard, this one appeared positively demonic. Pale skin was stretched across a skeleton-like body, every individual muscle visible and pulsing just beneath the surface. Spikes of bone protruded from the shoulders, elbows, and spine, dwarved only by the pair of massive bat-like wings. A bronze-colored chestplate looked to be fused into the center of his torso, and a long red loincloth hung down from his withered waist.

But most disturbing of all was, by far, his face, which looked more like a skull. The nose, lips, and cheeks were completely absent, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth that were the same cold grey as the rest of the body, gums missing as they attached straight to the jaw. A row of spikes protruded at the midpoint of the head, starting as a small bump at the forehead and leading all the way back to the base of the skull, whereupon it carried on along the spinal cord. A bizarre crown rested at the largest spike on the top of the head, the metal almost cascading down and around the neck and collarbone like some kind of bronze mantle, from which a crimson cloak stretched down, just barely short of reaching the creature's feet.

Two pitch-black orbs twitched within the sunken eye sockets, pupilless, but Saya could still feel it that they were focused on none other but herself. "Now… Make your choice."

It took Saya all of her composure to not collapse from fear. Everything about this thing felt wrong. From the way it moved, to the way it spoke, to the way its black tongue licked the teeth while it looked at her - everything about this creature made her brain sound the loudest of alarms as her entire body screamed for her to flee, to run for her life and not look back for a moment. But instead, she was frozen where she stood, staring wide eyed with her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to force out something, anything.

It was then that Saya noticed that not all heads were bowed at this display of power. All except one. Just behind Harkon's shoulder, she saw it. The silent, wide-eyed stare of the black-haired vampire girl, her eyes open wide and her face contorted in uncontrollable terror. Only, her eyes were locked not on the monster before her, but on the redhead's face - no longer avoiding her gaze, but peering straight into her eyes, silently begging for her to look back. Saya's gaze twitched ever so slightly, looking at Serana. And it was then that Serana, in the most unnoticeable, subtle movements she could muster, shook her head, sending her the only message she could:

Don't.

"No." Harkon's mouth twitched, his demonic grin shifting ever so slightly as Saya's hand firmly grasped the handle of her sword, though she refrained from drawing it. She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes, her own irises gleaming in turn. "I refuse your gift. When we next meet, we will be enemies, and nothing else."

The vampire lord descended from his hovering position, bending down as he loomed over her, and then tapped her forehead with a long, clawed finger.

"So be it."

The next moment, Saya was plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.