Chapter 12: The Sky & The Dragon
Skeptical, Serana remained on the defensive as she watched the second mysterious figure unveil themselves. The quiet giant Nord. What was his name again?
"How do you intend to get me out of here?" Serana asked, scrutinizing the small Breton. Her thinly veiled smirk begun to irk.
That, and she was drinking up all the good wine.
"With a plan, oui?" Éclair chipped with a forced cheer that was worthy of a groan. And groan, the vampire did.
"A plan you seem to expect me to have. If I had one, I wouldn't be here right now, apparently at the mercy of would-be rescuers." Serana sauntered over to take the wine glasses away, mostly from Éclair as the quiet giant didn't seem particularly interested in what had been thrust upon him. At least he was of sound judgment, if not sound mind to be foolish enough to follow in here. But even though they hadn't spent much time, Serana was sure that the biggest foolish fool of them all was Ember, not these two.
Éclair's eyes held a certain sharpness to them. Her cunning would have been hidden in the shadows of ordinary eyes, but Serana had more than enough practice in court and politics to be keen on such things. She watched the Breton as closely as she was being watched.
Apparently that merited paltry entertainment when Éclair helped herself to the wine again, plucking it from the vampire's hands to nurse with a smile.
"We do have a plan. Rather, we're waiting for our plan to begin."
Serana arched a brow. Her stomach knotted apprehensively as she dreaded what she suspected. "Uh huh. Waiting on whom, exactly?"
"Our distraction," the Nord remarked, his attention and caution turning for the door. His hand reached behind, ready on the hilt of his greatsword. "She promised she would not cower again. We made sure she will not. We left her in a place that would force her to fight once her invisibility wore off."
Heat flushed at the base of Serana's throat in anger. "She's the reason why I'm in this situation to begin with, and now she's going to do the same thing again?"
Éclair finally set 'her' wine glass down to join the Nord at the door, her shoulders square, set for battle. "Except this time she's not going to do what she did the first time. She's not going to abandon you - or so she's promised. She's a dear friend, but I've had my own experiences with her promises. We're here to help, and she's assured us she won't repeat her mistake. She wants to apologize to you in person, so I won't make excuses in her stead." The Breton tossed a small smile over her shoulder. "I won't be taking a smack across the head for her, and rightly so, oui?"
Serana frowned. Her eyes cast downwards, fingers running along the berry-stained sash. She fought back a nostalgic smile, unsteady by the mixed emotions coursing through her. She was annoyed with that reckless flame-brain, who's proven to be the sole source of many headaches and woes. Ember screwed up, and it's barely been a fort night for her to return, to 'fix' this.
At least she's come back, despite her fears.
"We'll see," Serana murmured. She still retained her guard around her would-be rescuers, unsure of what to make of all of this.
Things moved quickly. In the blink of an eye, Éclair vanished when she rested a hand on the Nord's forearm. He disappeared a second later. A large bang was muted behind the door. It swung open, and Serana felt a force push against her back, tumbling forward. Meticulous and curious energy buzzed overtop her skin. The sensation of someone else's magic wrapping around her like a cloak felt odd but... Pleasant.
"Move," a deep, steady voice ushered her from behind. The Nord. "And reserve your energy."
"You're sure I'm invisible too?" Serana asked when she felt pressure rest upon her shoulder, continuously pushing her gently to guide her forward.
"Yes," answered Éclair. "Though it will prove fruitless if we continue to speak. Vampires are known for their hearing, oui?"
Another loud bang thundered and echoed down the hallway, and with it, a crescendo of panicked yells. Serana smiled to herself, feet propelled by the notion of freedom, and the want to see the deserving hothead who's dutifully appeared for it's smack.
"They are," Serana answered with confident volume, despite the Breton's caution. "But I'm pretty sure they're preoccupied with the distraction that's louder than us."
Spurred on by the chuckles behind her, the vampire pressed forward and hooked her hand on whatever held on to her shoulder, near tugging when it felt like the link stretched. She couldn't wait a second longer. She needed out of here, and she knew time was precious. She didn't want Ember to run away in fright again. The moment that woman wavered was the moment this rescue attempt would fail.
Ironic, that the thing vampires were afraid of was also deathly afraid of them.
Flashes of color ignited at the end of the hallway, with magic sparring in the air. Fireballs and lightning bolts recklessly strewn about, and the heat was collecting quickly even before they had reached the courtroom. Serana tugged on her gifted sash up higher to cover her mouth and nose when her nostrils burned with incendiary smoke. Cough-filled curses roared in the throne as other vampires tried to communicate and search for the mage responsible for this blinding chaos. Thick ash collected from the flames that had engulfed the furniture, and for a moment, Serana's chest tightened with fear that the fire would consume her too.
Voices behind her bled out to the white noise building in her ears. She hadn't been aware that her feet were firmly planted, gaze stuck to the brilliantly terrifying display of volcanic orange and searing red ripping apart the court, drowning the screams in the air, muting father's commands.
Shards of ice broke her from her reverie, fighting the flames. She had barely half a mind to register that she was being pushed forcefully. She searched what used to be her home for any signs of Ember - or Ashes - but the mage was nowhere to be found. Where was she, to be casting all of this? It was impossible to pick up her scent when fire and charred wood was her scent. She was everywhere, and she was nowhere.
Part of Serana wondered if this was all a desperate dream, for it almost felt surreal, as if she was outside of her body.
More voices tried to reach her ears, but it hadn't pierced the barrier to awareness. In the back of her thoughts, scroll kept swimming about. Something overtook her when she had caught glimpse of her father past the fan of roaring flames, and a chill she had thought she could never feel had gripped her spine when she swore their eyes connected.
Whether it was the little girl inside of her that beckoned for love, or the remnant of humanity inside of her that beckoned for mercy, Serana acted. She broke free and knew she was no longer invisible when Harkon made a cruel sneer, his eyes - which she once thought were devoid of emotion other than disappointment - now full of cruelty and murderous intent.
In the haze of heat, she managed to decipher the hand he stretched out towards her. Once, she would have been naive enough to wonder if it was him trying to reach out to her. She knew better. As soon as she saw the mist collect in his hands, ready to lay down another barrage of ice to quell the flames, she moved. Her eyes were on the Elder Scroll, neat upon the throne. That thing was more precious than her, to her father. She vowed to herself that she would not only thwart his plans with it, but destroy it all too, just like how it destroyed her family and her.
"Serana!" A familiar voice called out in the scorching chaos. "What are you doing?! Get out of here already, the roof is going to end up collapsing!"
"The Elder Scroll," she breathlessly shouted, suppressing her coughs in the sash. Her eyes stung from the smoke as she leaped over low flames and sprinted over burning bodies, nearly gagging from the offensive smells of charring flesh. She caught glimpse of a large ice shard glimmering, still in the process of creation in her father's hands, and her eyes widened when it had been shot directly at her.
Lightning shot over her shoulder and collided with the shard. A burly figure rushed in front of her to shield her as the shard exploded in pieces, and the Nord held his greatsword in front of him to protect his torso. Serana's voice died in her throat, which tightened with hunger as soon as fresh blood flooded her nostrils when the shards ripped past the flesh of her protector.
Sparks erupted and erected in a bubble-like barrier to protect them from both fire and ice alike. Serana looked behind her at the source of magnificent power illuminating from Éclair's tiny body, where her voice thundered with clarity. Though the words were alien to the vampire, the strained tone bode ill. "Damian, aide Serana à récupérer le parchemin et sors vite! Je ne peux pas tenir éternellement!"
The Nord grunted in acknowledgment, yet bore no courtesy of such awareness to his wounds as he charged forward, using his physique to shield Serana.
Why were these humans, these proven vampire hunters - or was that only Ember - helping her to this degree? They seemed to hold no regard for the very real threat to their lives. But... judging from this predicted destruction from one woman, it seemed they were well accustomed to such fatal threats on a daily basis.
The barrier of sparks exploded forth and made for a dangerous combination as it ignited the flames to soar higher, the intense heat alone nearly making it unbearable to cling to consciousness for the vampire. She faltered and had to cover her eyes with the sash when the flames made it hurt to see, and her last image was the Nord - Damian, was it? - as he fearlessly rushed for the scroll on the throne, despite her father steadily and persistently chipping away at the mages' combined magic with composed control of his own.
Ragged breaths suddenly flooded her ears and painful heat chewed through the protection of her sleeve when a hand gripped her bicep, hard, and dragged her back.
"I'm working my bloody ass off here, trying to make it up to you," Ember exhaustively wheezed. "Throw yourself in my fire after I've seen you to safety and done my part."
"What a hero," Serana drawled sarcastically. "Yes, I suddenly find myself blown away by your genuine-"
"Don't make me literally blow you away princess," Ember grumbled, among a slew of typical Nord curses under her breath.
Finally, much to Serana's amusement, for the first time. She wasn't totally against having a little snark between them. The fire mage was going to get a lot of it soon, after all.
"J'ai le parchemin!" Damian shouted.
Whatever he meant, it renewed Ember's efforts to take - rather, drag - Serana to the exit. Éclair's hands were still stretched out, but instead they were stretched up to the ceiling. One look above widened Serana's eyes and seized her with the same fervor that had overtaken her human companions. Chunks of the castle roof had actually cracked, pieces of debris sliding down the sides of the barrier. The earth quaked beneath them with each screeching slam of stone on stone.
Serana kept looking behind her, trying to search for her father, but there was nothing to see when Ember cast her last wall of flames. Serana ducked and a yelp was caught in her throat, one that erupted from the reckless companion on her heels, when debris crashed close to them. Éclair's willpower was visibly waning, her arms lowering incrementally. Strange ebony vein-like marks begun to sprout from her eyes and spread like webs across her face, and another uproar seized the throne when Damian had collided with the Breton and threw the tiny woman up on his shoulder the moment she collapsed.
"Quickly now, to the boat," Damian urged as he tucked the scroll under the Breton's body to sandwich it between his shoulder and her stomach. He heaved open the heavy door, and Serana wasted no time to fire a succession of sparks at the watchman before he was able to draw his sword. The group, almost immune to fatigue and fueled by adrenaline, expended the last spurts of their energy during the long trek over the majestic bridge.
It wasn't until they reached the boat the white noise finally begun to fade away, and calm was quickly returning to Serana. She took charge when she noted the others were in no shape to row, with Ember falling flat on her face just climbing - and slipping - into the boat. It rocked harshly when Damian crashed onto the seat, his usual poise betrayed by his frantic gestures to keep the Breton from falling out of the boat with his haphazard movements.
Were it not for the impending danger looming over their heads, Serana would have laughed at this collective sorriness of this misfit group of her 'rescuers'. She wisely withheld her comments and summoned what strength the others had forced her to reserve to row. She pushed the boat until she was waist-deep in the water, unperturbed by it's chill, before she leaped inside and rowed. She didn't deny her small measure of pride as such when Ember's tired face made an appearance - amusingly pressed against the bench seat - as an eyebrow quirked, seemingly impressed by which the speed they were already traveling.
That pride was doused when her attention turned to the Breton, who had been sprawled across the protective giant's lap, her breaths ragged and her eyes unfocused, her pupils dilated. The ebony-vein marks disappeared, and the darkness seemed to contain itself in her irises. Damian set the scroll on the floor of the boat, his facial features set back into a stone-like composure. His hand betrayed his true composure when he worriedly threaded one hand through Éclair's hair, even though if anything, he should have worried over his injuries. There seemed to be some sort of power emanating from him, thrumming beneath the palm that rested on the boat's edge. Serana felt this before, in the castle. Was he the one that cast invisibility over them? She was under the impression that that was Éclair. Curious...
"Magic sickness. She needs a magic potion," Damian stated with a swift clear of the throat to mask his concern. "Or it will take her a week to recuperate from this."
"What? A week?!" Ember shot up, voice thick with worry as she tiredly clambered over to kneel before the Breton. It wasn't long before rivalry poked. "How lame! She casts a few spells and she's already down and out? Did she see what I did in there? I'll be ready again within the hour. The Éclair I used to fight with wouldn't be such a weak snowback! Have you become soft since then, milk drinker?"
"Ember," Serana seethed through clenched teeth, narrowing her eyes when the audacious fire mage nonchalantly glanced at her - and disregarded her.
"Come on, Éclair! How are you supposed to prove that you're the best mage when I'm clearly the best mage now, huh?"
It felt like ages of the blasted flame-brain taunting and jeering, and Serana had half a mind of throwing the bloody woman overboard. She was beginning to understand the dynamics between the two a whole lot more, now, and she not only empathized with Éclair, but held a kind of admiration for the Breton's patience and willingness to put up with these kind of antics. Such a graceful and collected cunning woman was above such-
"Je suis la putain de meilleur, vous salope," Éclair hissed vehemently. She clutched Ember's shirt for a fraction of a second, then her hand slipped away.
Ungraceful snores accompanied after.
Whatever crossed Damian's face had dashed Serana's hopes, and by the looks of his sudden deadpan expression - no small feat for one wearing stoicism almost permanently - it seemed to dash his hopes as well. She had an ominous feeling brewing, and her suspicions were confirmed when Damian translated, much to Ember's childish glee, what Éclair said.
"She said she's the best," he sighed. He glanced offside as he reluctantly relinquished the true translation under the apparent pressure of Ember's singular poke.
"...She said she's the fucking best, you bitch."
Ember's laughter rang in the air. "I knew it! Not as polite and innocent as you like to play, huh?"
Serana looked away to hide her smile. She didn't deny that she missed these sounds, but would - to Ember, anyways - that she was happy her friend came back.
Damian took the lead as soon as their boat hit the dock. He jumped out and pulled it close, deftly tying a knot around the post to secure the boat. Ember cradled Éclair in her arms, surprisingly without boast or provocation as the Breton slept away.
How inconvenient to fall to such a vulnerable stupor after expending one's energy...
Serana guarded her tongue before that slipped out of her. She quietly collected the Elder Scroll and was curious that the others seemed to pay no suspicious mind towards her. She wasn't sure what to make of that, and she wasn't yet naive enough to hope that perhaps this meant relations between them were of a pure and noble goal. She observed studiously as Damian and Ember worked in silent tandem to get Éclair riding piggyback on the giant Nord. The fire mage ran off towards a fort, and Serana stayed a reasonable distance behind Damian as he begun his trek to catch up.
Blood teased Serana and she tugged her sash tight around her nose to mute the smell. Her gaze snapped to some bodies strewn about the fort's entrance, and she recognized the sharp elven features, all seemingly soldiers clad in the same regalia. The Thalmor, as she learned from Ember's same destructive penchants in the fort they were to 'infiltrate' before.
"They won't be missed," she noted under her breath, watching how Damian and Ember's eyes appeared to seethe any time their gazes fell on a body. The fire mage heaved the lid of a crate off and extracted what seemed to be their belongings, and slung a fur cloak over Éclair. She pulled out rope and helped tie it around Damian and the Breton, then under Éclair's rump to secure her to her new carriage.
Serana bit the inside of her lip to stop a smile over the tenderness such friends showed only when one's lights were confidently knocked right out. It made her wonder if Éclair had ever seen such care while conscious, but judging from what happened on the boat, Serana was fairly certain that the Breton hasn't tasted the definition of such concern.
"We must keep moving," Damian broke the silence, now the designated leader, and his accent was painfully obvious with the more words he spoke. "La Légat et moi have a camp west of here, in a cave. We will be safe there."
"Lead the way, we're right behind you," Ember gestured. She kept close to him and cast constant looks to check on Éclair, with an occasional guilt-ridden glance at the vampire.
Serana pretended not to notice. Ember wasn't going to get out of this so easily. She had amends to make and apologies to say. But, for now, for the sake of cooperation, Serana caught up with them so the tension wouldn't dampen the weary spirits. The fire mage's mood seemed to already improve immeasurably over such a small thing, and Serana tried to pay attention to everything but the hope in the puppy-pleading eyes. All Ember had to do was say sorry. Was it that difficult for her?
Right. She was a Nord. Nord pride came first, damn it all.
Thus their trek continued in impenetrable silence, save for the treacherous snow crunching beneath their boots and the winds howling across the plains. Serana looked further away, until her head could turn no more, when she knew the fire mage's teeth-chattering and body-trembling was intentional.
Damn it all.
"Thank you for coming back, Ashes," Serana murmured.
Ember's entire body immediately perked up and straightened, not a speck of exhaustion in sight, as she beamed a hearty grin. "I did, didn't I? I was brave, right?"
Damian's low chuckle seemed to serve the fire mage's enthusiasm, and Serana watched it explode within the millisecond that the giant had reached over and playfully ruffled Ember's hair, apparently a silent admission of sorts. But the fire mage didn't seem to care as much for his thoughts as she did for Serana's, who sighed when hot grubby hands pawed for one of hers. The connection didn't last long when Ember looked down at their joint link, then pulled away with a shy smile and that hopeful question in her eyes.
Serana conceded. "You were very brave. Out of all the plans I was trying to think of to escape, none of them factored in you coming back for me. I figured you'd sooner fight a hoard of dragons than return to a vampire den."
Some of those words stung her a little inside, a brief sadness overtaking her for the truth that she had, in fact, never trusted Ember to come back for her - and still does not trust why Ember came back. That inkling of suspicion wouldn't stop nagging her, despite the fire mage's pure reactions of visible and genuine happiness over such a simple validation. It almost seemed a little petty, especially when that validation seemed to be the priority over an apology.
A matter to be raised another time. What was one more thing to bottle up? There were more pressing concerns, and while Ember got lost in her excited regaling tales of her harrowing destruction of that court room and the foolish occupants that dared - or were ordered - to engage her, Serana got lost in her thoughts as she looked at the Elder Scroll in her hands.
What was to be their next step? She returned to the castle to find out who she could trust, and though father had proved himself to be no ally, she wasn't sure she could trust her current traveling companions either. Ember had proven she was still a vampire hunter at heart, happy to exterminate Serana's kind. Damian and Éclair's appearance and role in all of this was beyond suspicious. That wasn't to say Serana was ungrateful for their help and their seeming willingness to put their own lives on the line, but they were soldiers.
What if they had orders?
"La Légat," Serana echoed. She looked up when she noticed the heads turn to her, but she ignored Damian's scrupulous gaze and locked eyes with Ember. "What rank is that?"
"Sounds like Legate," the fire mage shrugged. "Not surprised she's risen to that rank, probably for us rescuing those soldiers at the fort."
Serana's lips pressed thin. "Shouldn't such a promotion go to you?"
"Well, Éclair ordered me to do so, that's kind of her job as my superior - to command the soldiers below her." Ember looked back at the sleeping Breton with worry burning in her amber eyes. "I definitely don't want nor envy her position and promotion. Legate is one rank below the general, and I can only imagine how much more pressure she's under now. Once she's awake, she probably has another mission or two for me."
"Is that why she's way up here?" Serana asked, stealing a quick look at Damian. The giant Nord kept walking forward, never saying anything or looking back. "That's quite fast to report to Solitude, get promoted, and then somehow track us without knowing where we were going."
Ember gave a sort of half shrug and folded her hands behind her head. "She's always been a hardass when it comes to duty, so I'm not surprised. Works real fast. Said she's been tailing us since our fight with the dragon. I'm glad she came when she did, even if she didn't with the fucking dragon trying to roast us and-" Ember rolled her eyes as she smirked at the vampire, "-her precious history book." Her smirk fell way into another guilty look and she smiled sheepishly. "We wouldn't be here if she hadn't come. Or at least, I wouldn't be. Talked some sense in me, she did."
"She only made the voice you already had in you, louder," Damian quietly reassured. "You would have still gone back."
"That's the thing," Ember admitted, her voice thinning into nonexistence with her confession. "I wouldn't have." She looked away, and Serana's heart dropped a little. "And because of that, I don't think I would have had it in me to go back to place where I discovered a powerful witch. No honor in fleeing, wouldn't be right of me to see the safety of anybody - friend or stranger - if I'm the reason she's in danger in the first place."
"Friend, huh?" Serana quipped, mustering a small smile. It grew a little more when the fire mage rubbed her nape, embarrassed, disarmed of a rebuttal. Even though they had their conversations and Serana already had that inkling that a bond was growing between them despite Ember's ever-present fear, the sweetness of it all turned bitter in her mouth as her thoughts circled around a piece of information like vultures. Her suspicions and guard rose higher around Damian and Éclair.
They tailed Serana and Ember since the fight with the dragon. They didn't take a path that lead remotely near Solitude, so they wouldn't have been able to report anything, nor gain any sort of promotion, nor receive further orders. Éclair seemed adamant about duty, rather than prone to abandon it like Ember. Damian was quite obviously covering for the Breton. The Dragon among them was easy to predict and read, but the Sky was ever-changing, the weather unpredictable, true motives forever obscure and shrouded under the veil of simplicity.
So what were they really here for?
Serana held on to her Elder Scroll a little tighter.
French Translation
Oui - Yes
Damian, aide Serana à récupérer le parchemin et sors vite! Je ne peux pas tenir éternellement! - Damian, help Serana get the scroll and get out quickly! I cannot hold on forever!
J'ai le parchemin! - I've got the scroll!
La Légat et moi - The Legate and I
Author's Note
Sorry it's taken me so long to update (I think my last update was May 2020). It's been a crazy time and I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. I hope this update brings even a small measure of joy and reprieve. It's been on my mind to get back into writing and I was a little scared I would be stuck with writer's block but here I am, pulling an all-nighter and powering straight through it. I apologize if this chapter's pretty rusty but I should get back into the groove in the following chapters. I terribly missed writing so I'm just happy I've finally gotten this out of my system after thinking about it for so long lol. Grammatical mistakes will be fleshed out and fixed as soon as I get some sleep and re-read this 5 more times with fresh eyes haha. I hope to see you in the next chapter, cheers!