prologue
the vast land
3rd of Hearthfire 4E, 200
For once in his long life, Lord Harkon was absolutely terrified. Not the kind of fear that releases butterflies in the stomach, but full-on terror that begs one to run. The portal before him, a shimmering purple field of swirls, had remained untouched for days. He opened it almost six days ago and let his contact know he was ready. Six days, but he could be here at any moment.
Harkon knew this and had nothing to pass the time with, so he paced. His servants were getting antsy. He could hear them outside this lower, private chamber, bickering and hissing at one another over whether they should bring him more blood. He didn't think he needed it. Although, he is now wondering if he should. He needs to be at full strength if an attack takes place.
An attack he would never survive.
He feels his hands trembling in their clasped state behind his back. But promptly ignores it. The contact will be here soon, he can feel the growing clouds of power behind that very portal now.
Harkon has but only a second when the silver boot steps out. He tells himself to breathe when the man stands before him. He cannot show fear in a greater's presence, it gives them too much power.
"I see you made it through alright." He tries not to spit it out like he wants to. For that, the man before him would have his head cut off then reanimated whenever he wanted. Possibly during some disgusting and depraved act, not that Harkon was any stranger to them.
"The winds are not swift like I wanted them. I merely just received your letter, your grace." Amusement tips the male's voice. Harkon knows, without a doubt, he was bluffing.
He clenches his hands again, once, then twice, before he digs his nails in. It is such a challenge to bite his tongue over this wasted time. "Are you agreeing to our terms?"
The man's head tilts. His ivory hair moves to cascade down his silver armor, the strands are as white as his own complexion. The bright eyes, still lit with the violet portal's afterglow, assess Harkon with nothing but eagerness. "Yes. Although, I have a few revisions I would like to make." He says silkily.
Harkon freezes in his place, staring at the man and facing him head on. This wasn't what he was anticipating. But it could be much worse. "And what are they? I'm guessing they are more beneficial for you in the long run."
The Altmer before him laughs, it's strong and confident. There is no sign of weakness on him, Harkon knew that was who he was dealing with. But he didn't know how powerful he had gotten. No…by the gods, there was no way Harkon knew he would be this strong. If he did, he might have second guessed himself on the decision to bring him here.
"Beneficial? Yes, but beneficial to you as well. Don't worry, I am a good friend and the best of friends when I am given all that I want. Let me outline it and we can talk over it. Just two men making a deal of a lifetime."
Harkon grinds his teeth. He can feel his fangs tearing into his lower lip. How ballsy of this man. How overconfident. He knew he was bargaining with something precious. "We shall see, when it comes to my daughter, I have some concerns."
The necromancer laughs deeply, "I am sure you do. A father's love knows no bounds…but trust me when I say, I will make this worth your while."
Present day, 15th of Sun's Dawn, 4E, 203
The Soul Cairn had always been an empty place, but things were now changing. Sparse buildings loomed over the desolate land where shadowy souls now roamed. A swirling dark cloud was always up in the sky, never showing the passage of time, but adding to the suffocation of a static life.
The Soul Cairn had been this way since Valerica first stepped foot in it all those centuries ago. She never regretted it once, especially after seeing her daughter was alive and safe the day she came here. It was a bittersweet moment for her. Valerica never thought of herself as the kindest or most generous mother, but in that moment, she felt like she did something right.
A raven falls from the storm covered sky. Winds had been blowing in this land for days, signifying the changing environment here. Valerica holds out her hand to catch it.
"Careful, careful." She murmurs as she toils with it. Grabbing the raven by the feet and spinning him around to find the note latched on it. The bird caws softly a few times but he seemed to know the routine by now. He was even less apprehensive about it than the last time.
Once Serana left and Durnehviir was able to enter Skyrim again periodically, Valerica thought she could use the opening on such a portal to send messages to people she knew around Skyrim. A few stray ravens were excellent messengers and once they had the method down, Valerica was able to find out all that is happening in the province.
She was lucky to have a few trusted friends to get insight from. Based on their observations she knew her daughter was safe and sound the whole time the Dragonborn was attempting to conquer Skyrim. The girl never had to fight that monster the whole time they were holed up in Castle Volkihar. Instead, she was watching the battle from afar with a mercenary vampire. He was Molag Bal's Champion, much like the Daughters of Coldharbour, but he has a closer bonding with the Daedric Prince.
Valerica was quite pleased with this turn of events. She never wished for her daughter to be in direct danger. She was also pleased to find she had no part in the killing of her father. Even though Harkon was the worst parental figure one could ask for, she didn't want her daughter to take on that sort of emotional baggage.
But since the world has settled with the Dragonborn's retreat, Valerica has heard of other rumors. Whispers that wouldn't dare get to her without this method. She scours the note her raven brought to her, quickly. What she finds is worrisome. More so than the Dragonborn trying to take over Tamriel. This involved her daughter directly and it was all Harkon's doing.
"What shall I write?" Balul, one of the precious few Nord skeletons asks her from his seat at a makeshift desk. She was surprised to find he was the first of her thralls to talk. She had been trying to perfect that part of necromancy for the better part of a millennia.
The woman pauses, "I don't think a letter will suffice in this case. There are too many people who might find it, I'm not even sure this raven is trustworthy enough to get it all the way to my daughter."
"But, your grace, shouldn't she be alerted through any means necessary?" Balul asks. What a wonderful servant. He didn't even ask her what all the fuss was about.
"No, I have my ways. I'll send spells on this raven and infuse it with magic for what she needs to know. She would pay little mind to a note, but a zombie thrall will certainly keep her on her toes." Valerica smiles at that. Even though her daughter loved books, she would not take the note for what it was. A warning. She would probably think it was an enemy attempting to scare her. How wrong she would be.
"What shall I put into the spell?" Balul ponders as he pulls out a parchment paper to inscribe the very magic that will save her daughter.
Valerica pauses, almost has to swallow that clenching feeling in her throat. This fear almost made her feel human again. "Tell her this, her father, without my consent, arranged her marriage. By year's end she is set to be wed to none other than Mannimarco. Tell her she needs to come to the Soul Cairn, immediately."
The Nordic skeleton, all brittle bones and a fragile, creaking stature, pauses with his quill over the paper. The dark ink drips slowly on to the page. "Mannimarco? I have not heard that name in so long." His voice for once, held all the centuries he has been in existence. It is not an easy feat to make someone so jaded give such pause.
Valerica watches him disdainfully, "I'm sure you haven't. I didn't know he was still alive, or how he managed to get out of his last predicament. But know this, I will stop at nothing to keep him from setting his sights on Serana. If he does…"
"The effects would be devastating." Balul finishes. He turns his head, such a slow movement, to stare at her with blue flaming eyes.
"Exactly." She snaps, she didn't mean to. She just wanted this note out quickly, "Now write and ready it. I have a feeling Durnehviir will be leaving soon." She continues to pace, staring out from her poorly concealed form of shelter to the dusty land beyond. By the gods, the Princes, anyone, she would pray to anyone to save her daughter. She didn't let Balul on to how much she was worrying. Nor, how urgent this is.
If the Sorcerer is once again free and promised Serana's hand in marriage, there might be little to stop him. And Valerica is certain no one, not even the mercenary at Serana's side could save her then.
A/N: Hello and welcome to the new story! I'm so excited to begin posting this after having it in my head for so long! Here's a few important things:
1. This is meant to be a standalone story. You can read it before, after, or independently of the Storm of Skyrim series. It will have references to the other series, but it is not required if you haven't read it, and it shouldn't limit your enjoyment!
2. Vorstag and Serana's journey will loosely tie them to the College of Winterhold questline. They'll go through all the main quests there, but they won't be described as in depth as the quests in Storm of Skyrim.
3. I will post at least once a week, probably on Sundays!
4. I drew and painted the cover image in Procreate. I wanted to do a piece with the characters in a basic Art Nouveau style with lots of patterns and easter eggs to the story!
5. Oh! And don't get too comfortable with the first half of the fic, there will be a huge change-up halfway through. :) Enjoy!
