Chapter 13: The Very Best
Caves. Serana already had enough of them.
Still, it was a far more welcome reprieve and she felt more comfortable than she had in that castle. The glimmering of ice-riddled walls were a beautiful sight, though she couldn't bear to look at her reflection for long. Her clothes had rips, her face was covered in soot and her braids were in disarray, but something else bothered her far more than any disheveled appearance. Her-
Another reflection, many of the same shattered by the jagged wall, slithered up offside her. Ember sauntered straight up to the ice and made a show of checking her face, prodding her jaw line to expose minuscule cuts and scratches.
It was clear it was just an excuse when it didn't take long for her eyes to meet Serana's through the ice mirror.
"If it weren't for your clothes, I'd say you've never seen battle." Ember nodded to the vampire's sorry excuse of half-singed sleeves and smirked. "They're hanging by a thread, poor things."
"I can't tell if you're proud or disappointed that you haven't completely incinerated all of my things," Serana teased, pausing for a moment. She turned to smile. "Yet."
For the fleetest of seconds, something flashed by Ember's amber eyes, which swiftly met with a hearty grin as she made a show of conjuring a tiny flame in her palm.
"I could relinquish the privacy of my thoughts and remedy your pondering if you'd like, princess."
Princess. It left a bad taste in the vampire's mouth and she frowned, crossing her arms. It sowed confusion on Ember's face. Serana shook her head and sighed. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that. I never was nor felt like a princess, and I'm not like one of those women that just sit in a castle all day."
Ember apparently hadn't learned when to quit in her life. Her jolliness was genuine, and it stung more. "Were when we rescued you, like a princess at the top of a castle tower, eh?"
"I wouldn't have needed rescuing in the first place if you didn't trap me in that place," Serana gnashed as she made her way back towards the campfire where Damian rested near, polishing and sharpening his blade with a whetstone. He made no overt moves with his eyes, but the vampire knew she was being watched. She could feel it whenever she turned away, and she pretended not to notice the way he'd angle his blade in such a way that her reflection stayed on the sword.
Éclair slept away on one of the bedrolls, droplets of sweat dotting her complexion. The vampire moved slow and vigilant as she approached, well aware of the Breton's protectors watching her closely now. Serana knelt and carefully swept away the dampened strands of the blonde hair glued to Éclair's clammy face. The amount of perspiration bode ill for one who's skin hadn't at all bit Serana's with warmth. She frowned as she looked up at Damian.
"Her condition's worsening. Why? As far as I know, magic sickness is only a real issue when the mage attempts to continue channeling magic, but she's unconscious."
Damian's brow scrunched up for a moment, then relaxed. He looked at and nodded towards Ember, who made way over and took her spot across from Serana.
"There's something inside Éclair like there is me," Ember answered, a hesitant hand on the Breton's head. "I don't know what it is. She doesn't, either, but she once told me she felt like there was an occupant in her blood. I dismissed it at first, but... I've seen it. I've felt it, too, when it came out during our sparring matches where I pushed her too far."
"Pushed her too far?"
"We used to fight all the time in the College of Winterhold." A flicker of a reminiscent smile marred Ember's fair features with sadness. "We used to get in trouble all the time, constantly punished by the professors. It was a wonder they didn't kick us out for it for the longest time, but I think it was mostly to try and tame us - no, that isn't right. To guide us on a better path, to teach and cultivate us so we did not become your ordinary destructive mage, using our powers for our own gain."
"Why did you fight?"
"You heard us on the boat," the fire mage chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head. "It was stupid rivalry. We were so obsessed with being the best, the strongest mage Winterhold has ever seen. Of course she was the best. She was always the top ranker in every class, every school of magic. It pissed me off, how good she was at everything so effortlessly while I had to work my ass off just to conjure the smallest flame, and I challenged her every chance I got."
"It made you two as strong as you are today," Damian quietly interjected, a soft smile of his own as he dutifully wiped his blade down. "Madame Boucher said if you were not always on her heels - annoying her, as she put it - then she would not have ever pushed herself as hard as she did to strive to be the best she could possibly be."
"More like strive just to prove me wrong. She loves being right as much as she loves thinking she's the best." A lopsided grin teased the corner of Ember's mouth as she affectionately stroked Éclair's hair. The fire mage shrugged. "I don't know what exactly overtakes her when she's pushed, but it smells foul. I fear for her spirit, but she won't hear of it." She sucked in a slight breath, her voice hushing. "There's a demon inside of her."
Serana's brow arched incredulously. "A demon?" She glanced at Damian for answers, and was wary to find not a single dubious line wrinkling his face. Did he actually believe this too?
"I-I know how it sounds," Ember sighed. "But it's there, I swear I felt it. It's inside her - or, or part of her, however that would work. When it comes out, it's ugly."
"You realize that it would have full control and have already consumed her soul if there was such a thing involved, right? Daedra don't just partially possess a soul, unless you made some sort of deal with them to retain control." Molag Bal. The offering. The ritual. The stone cold steps. The darkness. Serana shook it out of her mind.
"This one has. It hasn't managed to take over her. She's still Éclair," the fire mage insisted. Her hand faltered and retreated into her lap. "But I don't know for how long."
"Surely she's not oblivious to... Whatever it is inside of her?" Serana studied the Breton's face closely, tracing where she remembered the web-like ebony veins sprouted before. "And if it held claim over her, making appearances during your fights while on the college grounds, would the others have not investigated such a presence?"
Ember chewed the corner of her lip. "She knows there's something but she doesn't think it's the work of daedra, and downplays it as some other lowly malicious spirit. She claims she can control it, but I've fought it when she's lost control, and nearly died. It's why we're no longer students there. Eventually we were encouraged to leave, but were actually evicted, because the Arch-Mage withstood pressure from the others who had whispered that we were practicing forbidden arts and necromancy when they witnessed it take hold of Éclair too. Well, I was fine to stay if I didn't provoke any of the others, but it wasn't right of them to kick her out. Besides, who else was I supposed to fight with? I still didn't get to prove that I was the best to her. I..." Ember sheepishly rubbed her nape and looked away. "I learned the most from her, anyways."
Serana fell silent, digesting the information. She finished tracing the invisible web and looked straight at Damian.
"Then it's not magic sickness, if what Ember says holds merit. Éclair is trapped in this state because she's fighting for control of her soul right now."
He averted his gaze and only grunted, not enlightening any further information. The vampire sighed. She was beginning to understand the reason why these seedlings of lies have been sowed in, but did he really think she was fool enough to reap them?
"That's right," Ember started. "But none of us know what kind of-"
"Enough," Damian intervened, voice low and commanding. The fire mage listened at once and actually fell silent.
Handy trick...
However, Serana was having none of it.
"I'm not the one you should worry about. I'd be the last one ever to turn you in," she lamely gestured to her eyes, "I would be burned at a pyre first."
"This is a private matter and Madame Boucher would not appreciate us discussing her business. That is her choice and discretion to do as such."
"But Serana might be able to help," Ember blurted, spinning up on one knee. "She would know more about demons and daedra than us, because she's a vampire!"
That mildly stung, but Serana ignored it and waved the fire mage down. "Damian is right. It's not our place to discuss these things, it's not proper nor polite and-
"Fuck. Polite." Ember seethed, her eyes stoked and igniting with that flame the vampire oddly missed seeing. "Éclair's bloody pride and secrecy will be the death of her."
"That is not your decision to make," Damian stated sternly. "You have said more than enough. It is Madame Boucher's choice to maintain this secret, a choice you are stripping her of when you very well know what her reasons are for keeping this secret - and you also know well that all she asks for is respect and courtesy. Do her at least that, wait until she has awakened. If she believes our new acquaintance can help, then she will employ Lady Serana's assistance herself."
"And if she's consumed right now?" Ember spat, hands balling into tight fists. "If Serana can help right now?"
That was some high regard. The vampire was slightly taken aback. "To be honest, I don't know where to begin. I would need to catch up on everything I've missed these past eras. The rules of magic and... Possession... Have changed. Or have not. But I need to learn first, before I venture into any sort of daedric realm and find out what's responsible."
As if she didn't already have enough on her plate to deal with... But she did not deny that she owed for the help given.
Ember didn't appear to hear her. Amber eyes, burning bright, held the cold gaze of the stoic giant. They seemed to have some sort of sparring match of their own. Frustrated, the fire mage huffed and marched off for the cave's entrance, poison dripping from her tongue. "You've relinquished your soul a long fucking time ago. Don't pretend to care for her beyond her status and coin, 'Priest'."
Heat that Serana hadn't been aware had wrapped around her left her abruptly. An awkward tension screamed in the silence and hung over the remaining conscious denizens of the cave. She shifted her gaze back to Éclair, mulling on what the fire mage meant. Damian definitely did not strike her as a priest, and she typically associated priests with a more warm demeanor, based on what she's read in past books. Her personal experiences with any sort of priest had been far darker, of a daedric kind.
Damian quietly sighed under his breath and returned to his sword maintenance.
Long seconds turned to minutes, and it felt like an hour had ticked by before the giant whispered. "I am sorry, Lady Serana. It is nothing personal."
"No offense taken, I understand." Serana looked off to the shadows of where the fire mage disappeared in. "You're both concerned and have different ways of handling it." She rose and swept the pebbles clinging to her knees off, carefully climbing over the sleeping Breton. "I'll go get her before she alerts the castle of where we are, in case if she starts slinging fire around. We should also plan of leaving here soon - father will arrange a hunting party once they regain control and recoup."
"Understood. I will begin packing our supplies and I will meet you at the entrance." Damian sheathed his sword and stood, heading straight to Éclair first. He patted the vampire's shoulder and squeezed it when they crossed paths, nodding shortly. "Thank you, Lady Serana."
"Just Serana, please."
Damian didn't say anything and squeezed her shoulder again before he left to tend to Éclair. The vampire had a sinking feeling her request wasn't exactly going to be heeded, but she shrugged it off and left to find Ember. Serana idly stroked the ends of the thick sash wrapped around her neck, finding - to her surprise - a paltry amount of comfort in doing so. Perhaps what surprised her most of all was that she was searching for it.
Well, dealing with Ember has always held it's own sort of nerve-wracking adrenaline.
Whistling winds greeted her as she grew closer to the entrance, and the small figure at the end gradually grew life-sized, growing and twisting a small knot in Serana's stomach simultaneously. She made her presence known with heavier footfalls, gauging the fire mage's mood as she came up beside Ember, surprisingly tame with no fire in sight.
No time was wasted, as it seemed like what was contained inside had waited to burst - a singular question that forced Serana's mind away for a moment.
"Why is everything cursed?"
Silence, save for the winds. Serana saddled up beside the frustrated woman and watched snow squalls thrash in the distance. Though she could feel the cold no longer, the sight still made her innards shiver, and she stepped a little closer to that which made her shiver worse.
Logic. Something she felt even she had short supply of, recently.
"Even benevolent Gods get bored," Serana quipped quietly, hoping to ease the tension. She side-glanced and was disheartened to see that Ember wasn't in the mood to play.
"Benevolent. Right. I don't believe benevolence or mercy exist anymore." Ember sighed, wincing as she carded a hand through her thick knotted hair.
Much to Serana's horror, she saw a small clump of strands being ripped away, bunching up between the fire mage's knuckles. She shooed the hand away from doing any more damage with a little slap, stifling a smirk when Ember's brow raised incredulously at her.
"Let me. You'll bald yourself at this rate, and then it'll be difficult to distinguish between you and an old woman."
Flabbergasted, Ember balked. "What? Would I really look like one without my hair right now?"
"I've spotted a few wrinkles, so yes."
That wide-eyed stunned look of terror was pure bliss, and Serana fought hard to suppress her villainous cackle. She stepped behind the fire mage and gently coaxed knots away as she brushed through and studied the long ebony hair, curious that it appeared so much darker than hers. Nords typically had fair features, apart from being notoriously tall, yet this one broke the stereotype - apart from her eras-old insults and stubborn pride. It made the vampire wonder if Ember was at all bullied, with the way she could get defensive at times. Serana didn't feel as though she would get a straight answer even if she asked right now.
There was a far more pressing matter to deal with, anyways.
"Careful, with the rate you're going at by stressing over all sorts of things, you'll be a fully-fledged hagraven by the end of this week."
Teasing was, of course, a far more pressing matter.
Gullible, Ember soaked it up. Oh, if only the vampire could see her face now. "B-but I thought hagravens were because of magic. There's no way they look like that from stress!"
"Mm-hm. Stress too. Seen it happen lots of times." Serana couldn't resist, and she tilted her head to get at least a side view of her victim's face. "Oh. I think I see a new wrinkle."
"Where? Where?" Ember's head turned fervently and she covered her own cheek, embarrassed, while the vampire had to hide behind so that her smile did not give her away as she poked just at the tips of those fingers, below the ear. She pulled away when the warmth became too much and stung her a little, as if karma came to claim what the oblivious mage could yet not.
"Stop squirming," Serana chuckled. "I'm almost done with your hair." She grabbed the sides of Ember's head and forcefully turned it so that she looked straight.
Hands clasped over hers, and she pulled away for a different reason other than heat. Something dark twisted inside of her, gnarling in her throat as a sudden pang of hunger teased the tips of her fangs. The fire mage glanced over her shoulder, confused, and then she seemed stumped by whatever she saw. Serana looked away, arms crawling up to wrap around herself. She idly thumbed at one of the ends of the sash for comfort again.
There was no doubt about it, it was obvious what was going on. She couldn't hide from that. Evidently - by the smell of growing fear - Ember couldn't hide it either.
"Uhm... Y-your eyes, Serana..."
There was no hiding it. The vampire sighed despondently, frustrated to have all that progress shatter over a meager fact. "Yes, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten in a long while."
"Oh..."
Ember squirmed in her spot. She was making herself look more like an appealing meal with her nervous tendencies over these things - and it made Serana want to scream more than she wanted to feast, more so because she knew she couldn't feast on this one. Well, she could, but she wouldn't. The vampire averted her gaze and slipped past, approaching the howling plains. She was stopped when a searingly anxious hand wormed around her bicep with caution.
"You'll be spotted if you go out to hunt out there, and wildlife is sparse. We need to keep going towards Solitude. Reserve your energy - I will hunt for you, I promise."
Serana masked her surprise as she looked over her shoulder to tease. "I don't like to eat soot and ashes."
That brought a grin back on the fire mage's face, and her fruity laughter skipped in the air before Serana slapped her palm over Ember's mouth to mute her. The amber eyes lit up and almost seemed to dance, and that nervous fear all but dissipated as she nodded confidently, muffling in the vampire's hand. "I also promise it won't be burnt. Come on, let's go get the others. I'm itching for a hearty stew myself."
Head held high, Ember's energy returned, and there was a sense that something was lighter in the atmosphere. Serana wondered if she had helped at all, even though she knew she did little to ease the burden of the weight bogging down the fire mage's mind and shoulders. She didn't believe talking would have helped, for talking didn't seem to be the first time where Ember sparred with Damian - or perhaps even Éclair herself - over this strange matter of apparent possession.
For Ember's sake, Serana hoped there would be a solution someday. Right now? She needed some damn blood before there was no chance of that day coming for the fire mage.
Defeated, Ember fell on her haunches and groaned in frustration. She glared when footsteps didn't waste time to march up to her, staring at Damian upside down.
"Feel free to mess up." She gestured nowhere in particular in the woods, where their prey escaped. "I feel like it's a little unfair that I've been hogging that from you."
"Get up and try again. Madame Boucher will starve to death if you lay down every hunt you fail."
"Why don't you try? They're running away because they hear your big fat footsteps, you horker."
Damian rolled his eyes and walked off, dutiful and stoic as ever. It irritated the living lights out of her but she refused to get up, complaining some more instead - because that was the better solution to all of this, of course. "It's hard to hunt in here when I'm trying not to light this forest up in flames and consequently turn us into our own prey instead. Do you want that? Do you want-" she scrunched up her face and mocked the accent "-Madame Boucher to roast to death instead?"
Silence was her answer. She listened for the lumbering giant's footsteps, then shot up into sitting when she heard nothing. A flick to the forehead had her yelp, caught off guard, when Damian swiftly closed the distance between them to do so without making any sound. She huffed and fell dramatically again, refusing to be goaded by him or his bloody stupid cold stare.
But then the smallest of smiles cracked the corner of his lips.
Ember stubbornly looked away and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever, brag all you want."
"I would rather hunt."
"Sure. I believe you. Not. I know you want to brag. You know, like how you are right now, but in your head."
"I am not you."
She scoffed. And refused to concede to his point. She stalled a few more precious seconds, though it was taken away and she sat up with alarm over his murmur. "The vampire is starving. Madame Boucher is alone with her, vulnerable and unable to defend herself. It would be easy for the vampire to feed and take off with the Elder Scroll."
"Serana won't. She won't hurt Éclair and she won't run away." Not that she had a place to run to, but Ember ignored that lurking voice in the back of her mind.
"You know her. I do not."
"So if you're so worried, then why don't you go back? Why are you always leaving Éclair in danger? Do you even care about her anymore?"
Damian's eyes hardened. "We have been over this before."
"You never answer me, so I'm going to keep bringing it up. You've changed, you know. What happened to you in the College after we were evicted? You've never talked about it."
"Not to you."
Damian then turned away, not privy to answering her, as always. She was never going to get it out of him - but she trusted her gut feeling, and her gut feeling screamed that there was something wrong with him. His broody act was a sorry excuse of a deterrent, if he thought being quiet was going to get rid of her. As if. She goaded Éclair for weeks for their first fight until the Breton finally broke and fought to shut her up. She could do the same to Damian, she had the equal of advantage of knowing what made him tick - or, at least, the advantage of knowing what used to make him tick.
Grumbles in her stomach stole her attention, though. She had to reset her priorities and catch something before she could work the lid off that lumbering giant. Ember got up and mentally prepared herself for the tough hunt, with the rate they were going at. This was tougher than fighting a dragon. At least with that, she could just let loose and eventually the fire would do her work for her. Instead, she had to work to make sure her fire wouldn't come to her fingertips from frustration, and consequently ignite a dry tree.
All she could think about to keep her from giving up was seeing Éclair's eyes open, and hearing Serana laugh again.
Pride was the bane of Serana's existence. If it wasn't mother's pride, or father's pride, it was the most insufferable Nord's pride ever. It made her want to drain every nearby living thing who had the audacity of being in proximity of her, with the way Ember tossed her smug grin and self-congratulations around.
"Yes, you can hunt, this has been well established before," Serana sighed, nearing her wit's end. Mental reminder: be the hunter next time.
"Yes, but I still haven't heard you say how well I can hunt," Ember beamed. "Come on, just say it. Not even one patch of fur burnt! Impressive, right? Aren't I the best hunter?"
"I would sooner eat my own tongue," the vampire grumbled under her breath. She knew very well what such a deceivingly innocent compliment would actually do.
"Well if I'm not going to hear it from Éclair-"
"She's unconscious."
"And if I'm not going to hear it from Damian-"
"He's smart."
"Then the only person left is you." The fire mage stood over with her bloody hands on her hips, staining her new makeshift sash. "What's your excuse?"
Serana looked up with a sweet smile. "I don't lie."
Ember deflated. She recovered quickly and waved it off, sauntering to her other pride, her campfire. She squatted down and sullenly turned the sticks of meat, casting a pout in Serana's direction - who pretended not to see every single one - every now and then. The vampire stole glances of her own as she watched Damian extract small slabs of cooked elk leg and popped the slivers of meat in his mouth.
Strange way to eat for such a large man - he even chewed it. What was there to chew? A mild discomfort brewed in her chest when he leaned down and hovered his mouth over the Breton's, gently pulling down Éclair's jaw as he dropped the chewed meat from his mouth into hers. Every time he did, he would lift her head and tilt his flask to help wash the food down and force the Breton into swallowing, without choking.
Serana averted her gaze when his eyes suddenly snapped to hers. There was a strange feeling that she didn't know what to make of, and it brought a host of speculations - for herself and for the... Partners? Was that not just a little intimate? Did the Breton even know that this is how Damian took care of her, if she fell in these states often? Serana never got any sort of sense that there was something between them though, and she dared say she was quite intuitive with how well she was able to tell which vampire bedded with whom in the court.
That, and a keen sense of smell made these things ridiculously easy to tell.
Well, it was survival. Éclair couldn't very well starve. Serana never picked up that smell between the two, either. Ember struck the vampire as the type of person who would do the same, if Damian wasn't there to fill the role. And, in a way, the fire mage was sharing her food with Serana too. They were all looking after each other.
Except for Serana.
Suspicious still, she kept quiet on the matter of the Elder Scroll or what she was going to do now - not that she knew what she was going to do now. She didn't even know what they were doing now, blindly following, hoping she wasn't being led into a trap. It wouldn't make sense to, to go through the effort of rescuing her too, if the goal was the Elder Scroll. It seemed like an afterthought, back during the battle at the castle, until she had gone back to get it.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Ember's tender voice snapped Serana from her reverie and she looked up, suppressing her startle. The fire mage sat down beside her and bumped shoulders. "You're making a really weird face."
"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better about myself," the vampire chuckled. She noticed that any time she did, Ember would beam a bright grin, as if proud of that too.
Gods have mercy, hopefully she wouldn't beg to be told she was the best jester too - however fitting that would be of her personality.
"No, I mean, like you're concentrating really hard, but at the same time you have this thousand-yard stare. Veterans usually have that - or you know, weirdos like Damian. He has it almost all the time. Are you trying to figure something out and it's conjuring up all sorts of bad thoughts?"
For an aloof woman, she could have her perceptive moments. Serana elected to shrug, a safe indifferent answer of neither yes nor no. Unfortunately, she forgot she's also dealing with a very stubborn woman, who sincerely needed to learn when to quit sometime in her life. The vampire suffered no disillusion that that time would be anytime soon.
"Aaah," Ember nodded as she cupped her chin in a mocking thoughtful gesture, humming as if she's found wisdom. "The infamous shrug and silence, as if to say 'well, it's not so bad' or 'I don't really know so I can't really say'." She smirked. "Yeah, 'fraid that won't work on me. I get it all the time."
"Perhaps there's a reason that you do?"
"Yeah, and I've learned that nothing always means something, and people like you always think about something. That's just what you do - you're a thinker." If only she had the same boon. "And you'll never stop unless you contract brain rot, which you never will 'cause..." A mild scent of discomfort lurked around, before Ember forced it away, but it never fully dispersed. "Well. So? What bad thoughts plague you? Is it something I could help with?" Ember bumped shoulders again with a mischievous smile. "I could cheer you up. I'm the very best at that."
Serana didn't fight back her roll of the eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you that you're very vain?"
"It's occurred to me that it annoys you very much." The cheer in her voice was downright sinful.
"Is that why you're always vain?"
"Well, yeah." Ember said that as if there was a hidden duh in there. Of course, the vampire really, really should have known. "'Cause it always annoys you."
"Wonderful," Serana sighed, hugging her knees to her chest as she slumped in defeat. "How comforting to know that you exist solely to vex me."
"You're welcome," the fire mage laughed. She clambored up into standing. "I'll get you another leg, and you can tell me what troubles you. You'll find I'm the very best listener."
Serana sucked in a sharp breath. Now that she knew this was intentional, it irked her even more, and it further fueled the flames that Ember knew it too. The fruity laughter dancing in the camp was welcome, though Serana would never dare admit it out loud at this rate, and she saw she was not the only one who welcomed it. Damian had a small smile on his lips, dutifully continuing to cut up slivers of meat - to give to the Breton who's head was turned, smirking at Serana.
"I know," Éclair silently mouthed as if to extend her sympathies. She closed her eyes before Ember saw, and Damian chuckled lowly.
"It is a good thing Madame Boucher is asleep. This would drive her mental."
Uh huh. Serana was starting to understand the dynamics of this all a lot more now. Her forehead flopped on her knees and she groaned.
"Wonderful. How comforting to know that you exist solely to throw me into the fire."