Here's Chapter Four of The Vestige!
And yes! I uploaded two chapters at a time, lol.
Alva's strolling down the beach. She still can't wrap her head around the fact she was in the Prophet's mind! How does one do that? That doesn't really matter, does it? What does matter is what she just witnessed. A million thoughts race through her mind, hurting her head in the process. Alva reaches a spot that's just good as any and sits down, she sighs deeply as she looks at the sea.
The faces of the Five Companions flash before her eyes, their voices echoes through her mind. If there is one thing that makes sense out of all of this is why Lyris is such a good fighter; she was a warrior and in service of an Emperor!
I only know that you are important, Vestige. Alva still can't believe the Prophet has said that. How can she be important? How can an odd Altmer who has little knowledge of magic and fighting be important and be the one to save Tamriel no less? The Elder Scrolls must be wrong. Can it be wrong? Alva doesn't know, but it must be. She is no hero material. Alva sighs deeply and hangs her head. For Mara's sake, what did she stumble into?
Hours pass by and the sun is setting slowly, leaving a beautiful display of pink and orange which reflects on the water, and it's only when the sun has almost disappeared completely, Alva gets back on her feet. About time, actually because her rumbling stomach indicates the hunger she was ignoring all this time. She brushes the sand from her robes and head towards Vulkhel Guard.
Alva passes the stands of merchants, some sell food, some sell trinkets, some sell cloth— The Altmer stops right in front of a stall which displays heavy armor. Looking down at the current robe she is wearing, she almost feels embarrassed. Alva's eyes wander over the different designs, until she stops in front of a High Elf steel armor. "How much gold for this armor?" She asks the vendor, pointing at the one she wants. After Alva purchased the armor set, she quickly changed into it. The steel is cool against her skin but at least this offers some kind of protection, and the smell is finally gone!
The Altmer then buys some bananas, corn and seasoning. She's famished, so food is in order. The Prophet has a fire she can use to make some delicious sweet rolls. He must be starving too, the poor old man... Alva decides to buy some extra of each ingredient to make an extra batch of sweet rolls for the Prophet as well.
The Vestige enters the Harborage, she's about to announce her arrival when she finds the man asleep. Their voyage to his mind must have really drained him. Quietly she proceeds towards the fire and starts baking, and once she's done all there is left to do is wait. Alva sits in front of the fire with her knees pulled up to her chest, she listens to the crackling sound of the fire and the soft breathing of the Prophet. She turns to look at him, and sees he doesn't lay upon or under any kind of blanket. That surely can't be comfortable.
Alva reaches for her bag and pulls out her blanket she acquired in the camp she stayed in at Khenarthi's Roost. It's not the softest thing, but at least it's better than nothing. Carefully she drapes the blanket over the old man and sits down in front of the fire again.
Time passes, and the Prophet wakes up to the sweet smell of baked goods. He creases his brow in confusion, not only because of the smell that fills the Harborage, but also because he feels a weight on him that wasn't there before. Drowsily he reaches out and feels the fabric of a blanket, leaving him in more confusion—
"Ah, you're awake." He hears Alva's soft voice. "I hope I'm not intruding upon your privacy with being here."
The Prophet sits up with a grunt, the hard floor really isn't doing anything good to his old bones. He feels Alva taking the blanket off of him, and she must have seen him searching for his staff because she grabs his hand and gives it to him. Then, supporting him, she helps him to his feet.
"Thank you, child." He smiles and walks towards his chair. "And you are not intruding upon anything, the Harborage is just as much your home now as it's mine." He replies, and he doesn't need his sight to know Alva's smiling at him.
"Well, then. I took the liberty to bake us sweet rolls, you must be hungry. I know I am."
The Prophet's heart warms at the gesture, but he declines politely. "That's very kind of you, but I can't accept."
"What? Why not?"
"I don't want you to spend your hard-earned money on this blind fool. I still have some fish left; I will eat that." He replies and gestures to his right, where, indeed, lays left-over fish.
Alva pulls up her nose at that. "Yeah, no. That's not gonna happen." She protests. "This blind fool just presented me a home. Besides, it's my own choice to share what I have with you." The Elf takes the Prophet's hand again and gives him a sweet roll. "Be careful now, it's still a bit hot."
The Prophet is still a bit hesitant about it. "Vestige, I—"
"Did you know— I haven't told you this, but did you know I saw a glimpse of the Elder Scrolls as well?" Alva suddenly says.
By her tone of voice, it's hard to say if she's serious about that or not, but knowing it's impossible for someone else to have seen the Scrolls, he decides to humor her. "Have you now?"
"Mhm." Alva replies, biting into her roll. "It told me about your destiny."
"My destiny?" He repeats amused. "And what did it say about my destiny, exactly?"
"It's your destiny to eat my sweet rolls without feeling guilty about it. It's your destiny to accept the help I offer, whether it's just me helping to find your footing or help you fighting Daedra. It was said that there is no harm in accepting help. You have been in Coldharbour for Auri-El knows how long, you've been hurt and tortured and starved. But now you're free and things changed, I will not have you continue living like that anymore. Not when I can help it."
The Prophet moves his gaze in the direction of Alva's voice. He swallows the lump in his throat, he takes a deep breath and smiles wryly at her. "If that's what the Scrolls foretold, then I'll have to live by that." And after that, he takes a bite of the sweet roll.
Only after the Prophet has at least eaten three of the rolls, much to Alva's delight, she ventures a little deeper into the Harborage in search for space she can use as her own little place. In the meantime, the Prophet continues with his search to find a way to free Lyris from Coldharbour. Alva's rather surprised at how much deeper the cave goes. At one point, when she looks back and doesn't see the clearing where the Prophet's at, she figures this place is as good as any.
It's rather dark out there since the cracks in the ceiling don't reach all the way to the back. The Altmer closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and concentrates. When she opens her eyes again, several balls of light swirl around lazily in the air, illuminating the area. At least now she can see where she's going.
Alva spends her time clearing foliage, cutting down roots and getting rid of rocks. It's a slow process, but somehow very satisfying. After a while, she hears the Prophet's voice echoing through the hall.
"Vestige?"
"Coming!" Alva drops everything and runs back, when she reaches the clearing, she sees the exhausted, but proud face of the Prophet. "I have finally located Lyris Titanborn in Coldharbour." He says.
Alva breaths in sharply, her heart skipping a beat. She smiles widely at him, only for her expression to change into one of fear. "Is she safe?"
"She works a terrible forge, under the lash of the great deceiver, Molag Bal. Her soul is in great danger, Vestige. You must get to her."
"Her soul?" She repeats, Mannimarco's face flash before her eyes. Alva frowns determined. "I will not let anything happen to her."
"I can manifest a gate to the dark realm." The Prophet says. "But you must go quickly."
"Open it."
And just like that, a portal opens. Alva moves to step through it, but the Prophet's voice stops her. "Tread carefully in Molag Bal's realm, Alva. You are important. The Scrolls have so named you."
"I will, Prophet." She replies. "And remember what the Scrolls have told me; you need to eat more, okay. I won't be gone for long; I will bake some more when I get back."
The Prophet shakes his head, chuckling silently to himself and Alva steps through the portal. A bright light blinds her before she steps out, straight into the Foundry of Woe. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, she reaches for her sword and holds it at the ready for when she might have need of it.
The Altmer looks around at the surrounding; there are Soul Shriven slaves all over the place. Some are actually working and some just stand there with a dull look in their eyes. The cracking sound of a flames lash snaps Alva out of her thoughts, quickly she hides and scans the area for Daedra guards.
In contrary to the Wailing Prison, there aren't as much which makes it easier for her to fight them. The Vestige's first thought is to quietly advance on them for a sneak attack, but then again, the anger she feels rising in her chest wants her to just barge in there. So, throwing all caution to the wind, Alva raises her weapon and attacks the Daedra. A few swings of her sword, dodging another few of the Daedra and Alva manages to strike him down.
In the meantime, Lyris stands at a large table, inspecting the weapons that lay all over it. When she took the Prophet's place in the Wailing Prison, she was moved to the Foundry of Woe to make weapons for Molag Bal. Normally she would give the Daedra a hard time, but something has happened... and the fire that was raging in her heart has gone out, leaving her empty and feeling like there is nothing left to fight for—
The half-giant's head snaps up at the sound of commotion a bit further. She hesitates to go and take a look, but then the sound suddenly stops and is replaced by hurried footsteps until—
"Lyris!" Alva gasps. She drops her weapon and sprints towards her. Lyris gapes at her. Tears threaten to fall down the Altmer's cheek, but her beaming smile is truly a sight for sore eyes. Because Lyris is caught off guard, she doesn't really register Alva jumping in her arms, hugging her tightly. But still, she responds to that and wraps her arms around her in return.
"You're here." Lyris whispers, more to herself than to Alva.
"Of course, I'm here." The Elf replies.
Lyris sighs relieved and tightens the hug as she nuzzles her head in the crook of Alva's neck. Alva doesn't want to be the first one to break up the hug because she knows what her presence means to Lyris, so they stand like that for what feels quite some time. Eventually, Lyris let's go off her. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are damp, showing Alva she has been crying. "You're alive." Lyris says as if she still can't truly believe it.
Alva takes her hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "There was no way I was going to leave here— that we were going to leave you here."
"We? So, the Prophet is still alive? Thank the gods! But, you! You can't stay! You have to leave before they find you here!"
"Let's go, then." Alva replies, looking over her shoulder for any sign of Daedra. "I'm not going anywhere without you."
"You don't understand. They've... done something to me. I can't leave!"
Alva's brow crease in worry before a flash of anger crosses her face. "What did they do to you?" She demands.
"It's hard to describe. My memories, my feelings, they've been fragmented. Ripped apart. And all the fragmented pieces have been locked away in different parts of the Foundry."
"Then we'll retrieve them." Alva replies confidently.
"I've tried." Lyris says with a hint of desperation in her voice. "The Daedra took everything. My willpower, my courage, my sense of self. I'm an empty shell. The fragments are reflections of my worst fears and most painful memories. I can't... I don't think I can face them."
Anger rises in Alva's chest. Seeing Lyris like this... this isn't how she remembers her. When they were in the Wailing Prison, Lyris was so brave and confident, nothing was too hard for her. And whenever Alva was lost in her doubts, Lyris was the one to encourage her, to show her she was doing just fine. And now, everything is so different. Now it's Lyris who's in doubt and Alva who's the one filled with confidence.
"You can face them. We will face them. Together." And with that said, they move out of there. Following the tunnel, they run into Daedra guards, but Alva is ready for them. Oh, she's so ready for them. She raises her sword and charges head on into battle. It doesn't take long before they reach the end of the tunnel, and once they go through the door, they enter the Cliffside Graveyard.
Alva runs ahead, with Lyris close by her side. The scene in front of the Elf doesn't make much sense to her, a frown forms on her face. Right when she wants to turn towards Lyris, she hears her gasp. "This can't be." Lyris says. "It looks like my... my childhood home in Skyrim." She runs past Alva, straight towards what appears to be gravestone.
The giant kneels in front of them, her head hung low. Alva stands at her side and looks at the stones in wonder. "My parent's graves." Lyris says. "My mother died in childbirth. My father was distant. Cold. I think he blamed me for my mother's death. I ran off to become a mercenary when I was sixteen... I never saw my father again. He was murdered by an old enemy."
Suddenly, the ghostly figure of a man appears out of nowhere. Lyris's eyes widen at the sight of him, she jumps instantly back to her feet. "Father?" She gasps. "Papa, is that you?"
Alva follows the ghost with her eyes and sees how he runs into the rubble of what was supposed to be a house. Without any hesitation, she walks towards the house as well. But when she reaches the few steps, she gets blocked by a Nord man. "Bleed, you bastard!" The Nord yells at the ghost of Lyris's father. "Die like the monster you are!"
"Hey!" Alva says then, distracting the Nord from the ghost. The Nord grabs his two swords and rushes towards Alva. Holding her sword steady in hand, she parries his blows. Alva responds with a fire blast, and when the attacks hit the Nord, his form changes to one of a Daedra.
"Her mind and soul are ours!" It growls. "Abandon your pathetic rescue."
"I don't..." Alva struggles for a moment as she's blocking a swing from the Daedra's sword. Using all her weight, she pushes him backwards, and finally seeing an opening she slams her sword into his abdomen. "... think so!"
The Elf breathes heavily as she returns towards the house, the ghost watches her in confusion. "Who are you?" He says. "Why does Lyris walk with you?"
"I'm here to help Lyris." Alva replies. "Who are you?"
"In life, I was Gjalder, father to Lyris. My spirit was torn from its rest and brought to this foul place. The Daedra force me to experience my own murder, again and again. I thought my torment never end." He replies.
Alva side glances at Lyris, who looks at the ghost with such pain in her eyes it puts a knot in Alva's stomach. "They're using you to keep Lyris shackled to Coldharbour."
"I don't understand. Lyris was always a free spirit. Why would my presence bind her?"
Alva glances again, not sure she should be the one saying this, but figuring there is no way Lyris will be saying it herself, Alva decides to do it anyway. "She... she blames herself for your death."
The ghost moves his gaze to his daughter, and only now Lyris seems to snap out it. Alva steps aside, moving away a respectable distance so they can talk. After a moment, the ghost dissipates, leaving the women alone in the rubble of the house. They share one knowing look and continue.
Once they go through another door, they're suddenly in an Imperial Encampment. Three Imperials stand together at the far end of the clearing, Alva crouches down and Lyris soon follows. "It's my old mercenary camp." Lyris whispers suddenly, remembering what it used to look like. "Varen was our commander."
"Varen Aquilarios, right?" Alva asks.
Lyris looks at her with a stunned expression. "You— you know him?"
"No, I don't. But the Prophet showed me a memory of him. And you. And the other Companions. And the Soulburst."
Lyris blinks a few times, not entirely knowing how to respond to that. She draws her attention back to the camp and just continues. "We were trying to free the empire from the yoke of the Longhouse Emperors." She pauses to take a deep breath. "I tried to be a good soldier, but the rest of the unit..."
"What about them?" Alva asks.
Lyris lowers her gaze to the ground in what, looks like to be, shame. "They treated me like a freak. I think they were afraid of me. They liked to hide my armor so I'd fail inspection. Bastards. In a camp full of people, I never felt so alone."
Alva looks out over the camp, and when her gaze falls upon the Imperials a few ways further, she narrows her eyes at them. Someone's going to get a thorough ass whooping. Then, noticing it for the first time, she sees three large footlockers scattered around the clearing. A thought crosses her mind and without saying anything she sneaks towards the one which is located at the left side of the camp.
Carefully, Alva pries it open and finds Lyris's greaves. Then, going to the other two footlockers at the other side of the camp, she finds Lyris's gauntlets and eventually also her breastplate. Bringing the pieces of armor back to Lyris, the giant smiles in awe. "I can't believe it! This armor is who I am. It's what I am. A warrior without her armor is like a bear without claws."
"Come on, suit up." Alva smiles, looking hastily over her shoulder for the Imperials. It only takes a short moment for Lyris to get changed. She discards her prison rags to the ground and changes into her armor. Seeing her like this really does a thing or two to Alva.
Lyris catches het staring. "What is it?" She asks with a giggle, causing Alva to lose her mind completely.
The Elf shakes her head, snapping out of it. "Nothing." She shrugs and turns her attention back to the camp. "Are you ready to kick some Imperials in the kneecaps?"
Alva and Lyris make quick work of defeating the Imperials. And just like the Nord in the graveyard, these men change into Daedra after receiving the first blow. Not that it mattered, really. Or maybe it matters a little. Seeing their faces always seem to strengthen Alva's attacks.
Through the next door they reach the Paths of Toil, it's another tunnel filled with Daedra which eventually leads to the Clannfear Roost. The women take a few steps forward, a chill wind wafts through the clearing, sending a shiver down Alva's spine. The two of them proceed cautiously until Alva stops and frowns deeply.
Lyris follows her gaze, and from the moment she sees it, her slow steps change into a run. "Abnur Tharn, you traitorous bastard!" She curses, approaching his projection. "I should have expected to find you here."
"Don't be a fool, Titanborn." He replies, now Alva has joined her side. She looks up at the projection, curiosity blooming in her chest. "I'm trying to help you. Your hatred poisons you!"
Alva and Lyris stands shoulder to shoulder, both looking up at Tharn. While Alva's expression is one of curiosity, Lyris's expression is one of pure hatred. The half-giant is trembling, what possibly could be of fury, and because the women stand so close to each other, Alva feels it. She moves her gaze from Abnur to Lyris, and she wraps her hand around her lower arm. Slowly she trails down until her hand find Lyris's and intertwine their fingers.
First, Lyris's tenses up at this sudden contact, but she relaxes and eventually that deadly scowl on her face softens as well. "Help me?" She echoes. "You betrayed us all, then went back to licking Mannimarco's boot before the smoke cleared!"
"I did what I had to." Abnur replies. His projection moves closer, and on instinct Alva comes to stand in front of Lyris. Although it's a rather silly attempt since Lyris is easily head and shoulders taller than the Elf, she can't help but smile softly at the gesture. "And, as a show— what is this?" Abnur has noticed the move as well and looks now straight at Alva. "Who might you be?"
"So we meet at last, Chancellor Tharn." Alva replies confidently, her eyes never leaving his.
"Have we met? You know my name and yet I do not yours."
"We have, in a way. I came to know of you because of the Prophet."
"Hmm." Is all he responds to that. "Anyway, as a show of my good intentions. I have a gift for you, Titanborn. But be warned, Coldharbour will not give it up, easily."
After that, Abnur Tharn disappears and a few ways further, in the middle of a Deadric mark on the ground, they see a weapon. "Is that...? Shor's bones, it is! Alva, that's my battle axe!" Lyris says in disbelief.
"Let's go and get it, then." Alva smiles and runs towards it. Only, when they're a few steps away from it, an ancient looking Clannfear steps into view, obscuring their path towards the battle axe. "Coldharbour really isn't willing to give it up easily." Alva sighs. "Alright. Get behind me." She says next, ushering Lyris to get behind her while her eyes are still glued on the beast.
Lyris raises her eyebrows at that, but she complies nonetheless. "What happened to make you so ready for battle?" She asks.
"Way too much has happened. I'll tell you everything about it when we get back to the Prophet."
"I will keep you to that."
"Now, I'll distract him and you get your axe." Alva smiles before she charges forward. The Clannfear growls and prepares himself to pounce. Seeing this, Alva moves her feet and in a rolling motion she dodges it. Moving quickly, she gets back to her feet and retaliates with a swing of her sword. It collides with the beast its back, leaving a bleeding cut.
The Clannfear swirls around, and using its tail, it slams into Alva, knocking the wind out of her. "Alva!" Lyris yells, causing the Clannfear to turn its attention on her. The beast screeches and with its outstretched paws and its bare teeth, it runs towards Lyris. The Nord prepares herself, and since her battle axe is still out of reach, she has to do it with her fists.
Then, the Clannfear pounces again. Lyris's heart races as she braces herself, she widens her stance and raises her fists and the moment she draws her arm back for a punch, a glowing golden rope gets wrapped around the Clannfears neck. Still mid-air due to its pounce, the beast gets thrown off course, straight into a pillar at the other side of the clearing. Temporarily knocked out. Lyris moves her gaze from the beast towards Alva, who stands there with the golden rope still in hand.
"What are you waiting for?" Alva asks. "Get your axe!"
Lyris smiles and rushes towards her axe. She pulls it out of the ground and gives it a few practiced swings. "It's good to have you back." She says, admiring the blade. "Are you thirsty for Daedric blood, old friend?"
"It's nice to see you smile." Alva remarks, causing Lyris to smile even more.
"Yeah, it feels so good to have it back. It's a part of me. Losing it was like losing an arm."
"Why would Tharn try to help you, you think?" The Elf asks next.
The smile fades. "I don't know. I don't trust him and I never will. But it's odd. The blind hatred I felt when I saw him? I could have strangled him with my bare hands. But now... I think he was right. That hatred was poisoning me."
"How do you feel, now?"
"Better. Stronger. Almost whole again. Isn't it strange? I feel powerful enough to take on Umaril the Unfeathered, himself! I feel... like a warrior again!"
Hearing this, Alva feels excitement blooming into her chest. She can't stop herself from jumping up and down. "Yes, that's more like it!" She exclaims and gives Lyris a high five. And just as suddenly, she stops and looks around with a confused look on her face. "So, now what?"
"Well, we're not done yet. We need to keep moving forward. The passage is blocked by a rock of slide, but now that I have my axe back, I might be able to break through it."
They move towards the end of the clearing where the rocks block their path. "Stand back. No damned pile of pebbles is going to stop me now!" Lyris says, and to Alva's surprise the Nord uses her bare fist to punch the pile of rocks, successfully clearing the path. When they advance, they come into another tunnel. With even more Daedra. And at the end, another door. Now stepping into the Prison of Echoes, they are in a tunnel that goes every which way, leaving it hard for them to decided where to go.
"Did you hear that?" Lyris asks suddenly, swiveling her head around in search of the source.
"Hear what?" Alva asks, looking around as well.
"That sounded like... no, it couldn't be." Lyris says next, running into the direction of the sound.
"Lyris, where are you going?" Reaching the end of the hallway, they enter a chamber. In the middle is a round raised dais, surrounded by large candle holders. On top of the dais is another projection, but this time it's the one of Sai Sahan.
"Sai!" Lyris breathes in disbelief. "What's happened to you? What have they done?"
"Lyris!" Sai replies in equal disbelief. "Lyris, I can see you! Are you really there?"
"Sai, it's me! We're seeing some kind of vision of you. Do you know where you are?"
Alva follows the conversation attentively. Her eyes moving back and forth between Lyris and Sai until at some point the Redguard disappears. "Sai?" Lyris says. "Sai! No! Bring him back, you bastards!"
"Lyris?" Alva says hesitantly. The Nord whirls around at the sound of her voice with a surprised expression on her face as if she had forgotten all about her. "That was no trick." She says. "That was Sai Sahan! We need to find him and get him out of there."
"I know. And I promise we will, but first we need to find a way to get out of this mess ourselves." After some more adventuring through the halls of Coldharbour, the women eventually end up in the Crucible of Terror.
Alva proceeds confidently, but only one step in there and Lyris stops short. The Elf turns to look over her shoulder, wondering why she has stopped when she sees a hint of fear in Lyris's eyes. "What's the matter?" Alva asks, joining her side again.
"Something's wrong" Lyris replies. "All the doubt, the fear, the loneliness... it's all coming back!"
"Hey." Alva says in a soft voice, reaching out and holding her hand. Lyris's gaze moves from the surroundings towards the Elf. "It's going to be okay. I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." This seems to calm her down enough to continue.
Alva still holds Lyris's hand when they walk through the chamber. The pass a large statue of Molag Bal, and Alva looks up at it. What is with this place? Although it was Lyris who has been torn apart, Alva can't help but feel odd as well.
Then, they walk through a gate. There is a terrible tremble and a few ways further, another Daedric mark starts to light up in a green color before it explodes. Debris flies around, and soon after, a Watcher ascends from the pit. "Stendarr defend us!" Lyris says, her grip around Alva's hand tightens. "It's the source of all my fears! I can hear it whispering to me. Taunting me."
Alva side glances at Lyris. "It's okay. We're going to be okay." Then she steps forward. With its one eye and way too many tentacles to Alva's likings, this is one of the biggest Daedric beasts they faced yet. And since it levitates high above the ground, it will be hard to deal damage with her sword.
"I... I can't." Lyris says, now totally consumed by fear.
Alva holds out her hand and a ball of fire sputters to life while the Watcher moves closer towards them. "Of course, you can. You're Lyris Titanborn. You can do anything!" Alva replies and pushes her hand forward, the ball of fire collides with one of its tentacles. And so, the battle begins.
While Alva and the Watcher are fighting one and another, Lyris is still frozen to the spot. Her heart is about to beat out of her chest and her breathing is hard and uneven. She feels cold and dizzy, like she's about to collapse anytime. She wants to get the hell out of there, but where would she go? It doesn't matter, everywhere is better than here. The idea of truly bolting out of there tickles her mind, she even finds herself motioning her feet to run. But then Lyris's stomach drops. What is she doing? What is she thinking? She can't leave now, not when Alva literally went back to this hell place to free her.
Lyris's eyes snap towards the Elf. She's fighting so hard, so confidently. Her lips part as a dawning realization falls upon her. Alva is literally fighting Lyris's fear for her. Tears start to swell in her eyes. This Elf right here— "Lyris, watch out!" Alva yells suddenly, and when she snaps out of her thoughts, Lyris sees a beam of green lightning charging towards her. Her eyes widen, fear keeps her frozen to the spot. But right when the beam is going to hit her, Alva jumps in front of her. She throws her arms out and creates a shield. Alva growls out of effort, but luckily the shield holds.
When the beam dies down, Alva retaliates with a few punches. And with each punch, a streak of divine fire burst forth and hits the beast. Eventually her punches grow weaker due to fatigue, but this is not going to stop her from finishing the fight. Not when they're so close. Alva and the Watcher continue, each dealing blows and each receiving blows until at some point Alva holds up her hand again. Only, this time it's not a ball of fire she conjures, but a javelin.
It's large and it glows a radiant golden color which is so bright the whole chamber lights up because of it. Gathering all her strength, Alva throws it at the Watcher. The javelin hits the Daedra right in its eye, it screeches and twitches until it falls to the ground.
Alva breathes out and falls to the ground as well. She lands on her hands and knees and she truly needs a moment to catch her breath. "Alva, you did it!" Lyris says and kneels down next to her. She cradles the Elf's weak form in her arms and brushes away her hair out of her face. "The voices... the whispering... it's gone."
Alva fights against unconsciousness, but she smiles nonetheless. "That's... good."
"This whole time, it was like watching myself from a distance. I felt... disconnected. But now, this is the best I've felt in years. Like I've been reborn! And I owe it all to you. Thank you." Lyris blinks away tears and plants a kiss on top of Alva's head. Alva's smile fades as her head drops against Lyris's shoulder.
The Nord holds her a moment longer until, at the top of the stairs, a portal opens. Lyris recognizes the Prophet's magic immediately. She picks up Alva and walks towards it, and once she steps through it, they're back in the Harborage.
"Prophet!" Lyris smiles.
"Lyris, child!" The Prophet breathes relieved, then realizing he only hears Lyris's footsteps, he creases his brow in worry. "Where's the Vestige?" He asks, and when she doesn't reply he tries again. "Lyris, where is Alva?"
"She's right here, I'm holding her. But Prophet, she is..." Lyris says with her voice on the verge of breaking.
"No." The Prophet says with an awful feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. "Don't tell me she's..."
"She's hurt. Badly hurt." She replies softly.
"Let me see her." He says and beckons Lyris to come closer. The Prophet places his hand on Alva's head and he closes his eyes, working his magic. "She's hurt indeed... but she'll live. With plenty of rest she will be just fine."
Thank you for taking your time and hopefully I will see you next time!