~*Chapter 31*~

A native of the Pale, and now a well-traveled woman, Emily had grown tired of snowy forests. Sure there was beauty in them but such sights came with costs. Usually levied in the form of Skyrim's frost or its equally bitter winds. It came as a pleasant surprise that the Forgotten Vale's only price was the cold. Guarded on all sides by massive glacial mountains the valley was free of wind. However, the lack of even a breeze gave the place a certain stillness. Giving the evergreen forests an eeriness. As if deep within the untouched wilderness the Vale jealously guarded secrets. Or perhaps it was just her projecting. The atmosphere of the group had been grim. Ever since their conversation with Gelebor two days prior.

"The Chantry of Auri-El is…or rather…was, the epicenter of our religion," Gelebor explained as they shared a porridge-like breakfast together, "Though we had…temples to others…it was Auri-El…father of the elves that was the greatest…of our ancestors. The Chantry was constructed…many millennia ago. Before your k…before the Atmorans came."

That same cold bitterness invaded his usually dispassionate tone. Prompting Emily and Agmaer to exchange a worried look. Calder seemed unbothered and pressed the snow elf for more.

"And the Chantry has remained hidden since?"

Gelebor took a long loud sip of his porridge before answering.

"Yes," Gelebor replied, "Our isolation…worked to our…advantage…and so we have remained hidden. From the Nords…from the accursed Dwemer…"

At the mention of the name 'Dwemer' all snow elves in earshot spat on the ground in unison. Muttering something harsh and severe in Faleydoon afterwards.

"How can we get to the Chantry?" Serana dryly asked. Unamused by their ritual.

"Follow the river," Gelebor answered her, "It will…lead you..to its source."

"Anything we should keep an eye out for?" Calder asked.

"Wolves…Sabertooth Cats…Ice Wraiths," He took in a deep breath, "We've mostly…eradicated them…but there could be a…troll or two."

Despite Gelebor's warnings the journey had been largely uneventful. They'd come across a deer or two and Meeko had chased what Emily assumed to be a squirrel up a tree. The wildlife, while oddly patterned, hadn't interested her. It was the ruins that had caught her eye. Gazebo-like structures made of some kind of polished white stone. Remnants of the once thriving snow elf religion. Or so she guessed. Inside each had been a basin of crystal blue water. Water that had somehow not frozen. Even as snow fell just outside. It was with some trepidation that Calder had decided they'd be spending the night in one. Taking shelter from the elements.

Emily cast a glance over her shoulder at the ruined structure. The sight of it slowly disappearing behind them was a comforting one. She'd slept fitfully there. Dreams; Odd dreams of snow elf ghosts tending to the basin of water had plagued her. She briefly considered sharing them but decided against it. Focusing on the task at hand. For two days the meandering river had been their guide and, just as Gelebor had promised, it led them to its source.

It was about 4 o'clock in the evening when the tree line fell away suddenly. Leaving the party standing at the edge of a snowy plateau. A massive artificial lake, the source of the river, greeted them. Just behind it, towering hundreds of feet into the air and carved straight into the icy glacier was the great Chantry of Auriel.

They'd arrived.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the entrance. A massive grand staircase. Built from the same white stone of the ruins. It split around a central statue of Auriel. Larger than any she'd ever seen. But Emily could take no joy in the sights before her. On either side of the statue, visible even from where they stood, were the guardians of the Chantry of Auriel.

"How about the Chantry itself," Calder asked returning his gaze to Gelebor, "You mentioned yesterday it is being guarded by someone?"

Gelebor stirred the porridge in his bowl. Struggling as though it was the thickest tar.

"No…" Gelebor blinked his watery eyes, "Not…someone…"

Agmaer swore under his breath immediately. Serana crossed her arms and sighed. As though they had merely stumbled across a minor inconvenience. Emily's mouth flopped open. Even after everything she'd been through never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd lay her eyes upon…

"Dragons?" Agmaer breathed incredulously.

At once their confidence evaporated. Replaced with a quiet panic. Even Calder seemed shaken, though he hid it well.

"Are you sure they're still there?" Calder urgently inquired.

Gelebor nodded once. An action that seemed to wind him.

"How long have they been there?" Calder immediately asked.

"Since Auri-El defeated Lorkhan," The snow elf plainly replied.

"Are you sure?"

It was obvious at once that Gelebor taken offense at the insinuation. How much wasn't revealed until he spoke. Or more accurately, yelled.

"Every year for three hundred years I traveled to the Chantry!" His voice was as bitter and bitting as a blizzard, "I begged them…to let us return. That surely…the danger had…passed. Every year…I return here. Yes, wretched Atmoran. I am certain."

He couldn't believe it.

Calder couldn't believe it.

He'd spent almost a day convincing Agmaer and Emily that the dragons couldn't possibly still be there. That they must have been a scare tactic. Even if they had existed they surely must have joined Alduin's war when the Dragon God of Time had returned.

Yet here they were.

Two dragons.

A deathly silence, punctuated only by Gelebor's pained wheezing settled across the table. Calder felt it prudent to give the sad angry mer a chance to recover before asking his next question.

"Do you know what their names are?"

"We have called them…in your tongue…'The Guardians' but it is recorded that their names…are Naaslaarum and Voslaarum."

At the time it had been a mere curiosity. Now this information was their only hope. Calder prayed to the Nine that his improvised plan worked. It was not popular. Least of all with Emily. She watched, eyes narrowed, as Calder removed his ebony helm. Handing it to Serana.

"If they get aggressive we Recall out," Calder quietly reminded her.

Serana had not liked it, and even now her lips drew thin. Nodding only once. Next Calder unhooked his sword from his belt. Giving the ebony blade to Agmaer who solemnly took it. When at last he turned to Emily his eyes flitted to the mutt that stood by her side. He didn't have to say anything.

"Alright. Well, any and all prayers are welcome," He addressed his entire party.

Serana responded, but not in the way that Agmaer and Emily did. Drawing him into a tight hug before pressing her ice cold lips against his. It was the first time they'd kissed in front of their party. Let alone displayed their feelings for each other. It felt good to do so.

"If they kill you I'm going to reanimate your corpse," Serana whispered after ending the kiss.

The old joke made him smile. Patting her once on the back he broke the hug. Newly invigorated; He walked. Alone, and unarmed towards the massive staircase. It didn't take him long to reach it but each step still felt like an eternity. He could feel them. The eyes of the two dragons. They watched him approach. Unmoving. Sizing him up.

Tradition declared the elder speak first. Calder decided to break it.

The sound that came from his lips wasn't the type of thu'um he was used to making. Primal shouts of anger, malice, and battle these were not. It was the traditional Dov greeting. A soothing, spiritual water that washed over the ears of all present. A labor of love and one that nearly left Calder seeing spots. Drawing out every last syllable of the dragon's names was hard enough for a single dragon. The fact that he managed two names, let alone kept his voice and tone steady throughout, filled his heart with pride.

He hoped it was enough.

The earth groaned as the dragons came alive. Snow fell off in great sheets as they moved their serpentine bodies. It took all of Calder's willpower not to raise his shield or fall into a fighting stance as they came towards him. Closing the distance with great long strides. Heads were lowered to bring them 'eye level' with the little human. Teeth as long as daggers were brought a few feet from his face. For a moment the two dragons merely eyed him up. Unmoving and unblinking. Then they both drew in a deep breath and replied in dovazhul.

"We greet thee," Their rich baritones vibrated the very bones in his body, "Doooh…vaaa…kiiiin."

The combined strength of their thu'um filled Calder with dread. Together they rivaled Alduin in raw power. The thought of having to fight these two…even with dragonrend…

"We have been expecting you," Naaslaarum's dovazhul sounded very similar to Paarthurnax's.

"We heard your thu'um calm the mountain," Voslaarum agreed, "Such a sublime sound."

"Truly. It has been many ages since we have had the pleasure of speech," Naaslaarum inclined his head as though he'd taken a bow, "With one of our own."

Their civility was unexpected. So unexpected that Calder didn't know how to respond. Settling on a simple "As have I," before placing a hand on his breast. Naaslaarum drew in a deep breath before raising his head and letting out a mighty roar.

"Now…Speak!," Naaslaarum's voice boomed out across the valley, "Speak Doh-va-kiin. Speak as our father intended. What has drawn you to our abode?"

Again their civility and willingness to talk filled Calder with hope. It was with confidence that he responded to his elder's question.

"My party and I seek entrance to the Chantry of Auriel."

Though the dragons did not have faces expressive enough for it Calder could feel their stances shift. The air of cordiality vanished and they became stonelike again.

"None may enter," Naaslaarum's reply was blunt.

"You would deny your kin entrance?" Calder asked. Grateful that he'd used 'kin' instead of the very similar sounding 'master.'

"None may enter," Voslaarum repeated, "The Chantry is closed; On the Arch Curate's orders."

Calder's brow furrowed. He cast a glance back at his party. Displaying his confusion to them. When he responded it was after carefully considering his words.

"Gelebor gave us his blessing to enter."

"Gelebor?" Naaslaarum's tone dropped to an angry low rumble, "We know no Arch Curate by that name. Only the progeny of traitors."

"Traitors?" Calder repeated the word surprised.

"You speak too much brother," Voslaarum chided his companion.

"He is kin," Naaslaarum replied good naturedly, "I think we can indulge him. Especially if Gelebor has filled his head with lies."

The dragon lowered his head again. So that he was once again 'eye-level' with Calder.

"As the war with Ysgramor and his 500 began to be lost the kings of the Snow Elves came to the Chantry," Naaslaarum began, "They demanded we deliver unto them Auriel's Bow. For use against the Atmoran invaders."

"The Arch Curate of the time refused," Voslaarum continued, "For it was charged to us to defend the bow until the next Dawn. Thus we thought the matter resolved. Shocked were we when over a third of the Chantry's number rebelled against the Arch Curate. Intending to seize the Bow from the inner sanctum and deliver it to the Snow Elf kings."

"A great many died but our side emerged victorious," Naaslaarum concluded, "As punishment for their transgressions we banished those who profaned Auriel's wishes. Gelebor and his people are the remnants of that group. Those that kept true to Auriel still live in the Chantry. In order to avoid such a scenario taking place again the current Arch Curate has banned all from entrance."

It took Calder a while to process this story. In no small part because of the many words of Dovahzul he was having to guess by context clues. Though even accounting for errors their tale was hard to believe. He thought about returning to talk to Serana and the others. To fill them in on what was happening. However, ending the conversation now might be construed as an insult. So Calder made his decision.

"I…was not aware of this. We have come here to speak with the Arch Curate, the true Arch Curate," Calder emphasized, "We have reason to believe the Chantry and the Bow are in great danger from a vampire."

The two dragons exchanged a long look. If they knew anything about the Tyranny of the Sun, they did not show it.

"We will take your case to the Arch Curate and return with his judgment," Naaslaarum finally replied.

Calder opened his mouth to object but Voslaarum beat him to it.

"We will entreat with him fairly," The dragon spoke in a conciliatory tone but with a firmness that underlined their unwavering decision, "You have our word as a fellow Dov."

Even from the distance Emily felt the air around her swirl as the two stretched out their wings. The sound deep and low. Enough that she felt like covering her ears. The two dragons were skybound in seconds. Flying up and over the chantry. Disappearing behind the mountain.

~*B*~

"Calder, wake up!"

Serana's strong shove roused Calder from his dreamless sleep. He shot upright in the tent. Hand reflexively going for his sword. The predawn blue hours provided just enough illumination to see the worried look on Serana's face.

"The door opened," She urgently hissed.

"Wha.." He asked. Rapidly blinking his eyes.

"The Chantry!" Serana cried, "The doors have opened!"

Any remnants of sleep evaporated with that. He pushed himself out of the tent and to his feet. Squinting in the early morning light. Sure enough the enormous burnished bronze doors of the chantry were now open. Agmaer and Emily joined them from their respective tents. The small magelight she held in her hand causing the freshly fallen snow to sparkle blue.

"Did the dragons return?" She asked, shivering bitterly.

"Do you see them?" Serana sarcastically replied.

"We can't all see in the dark vampire," She shot back. Launching the magelight above her head before pulling her cloak tighter to her body.

While the two began to trade insults Agmaer walked up to Calder. Lines of tension pulled at his youthful face.

"What do you think?" He asked the older Nord.

Calder didn't respond for a time. When he did, it was curt.

"Emily," His voice quieted the bickering women, "I want you checking for runes. Serana keep an ear out for heartbeats. I don't want us to be walking into an ambush. Agmaer, you and I will lead the way. Leave the tents," He gestured to the three all arranged in a crescent shape, "We can come back for them."

"We're going in?" Serana asked.

"We're going in," Calder repeated.

The walk up the grand entranceway and into the Chantry was silent. Tense. Their every sense on high alert. It was just as cold inside the Chantry as it was outside. Both Emily and Serana's magelights made the white ice and stone take on a bluish hue. The silence was the first give away that something was wrong. The two dragons had said hundreds resided in the place. Yet it looked more abandoned than a Nordic ruin.

Well not abandoned.

All around them were Falmer. Their hunched over and twisted animalistic figures were perfectly preserved in ice. At least three or four dozen of them in the main entryway. All in different poses. All were arranged haphazardly, as though they'd been frozen in battle.

"What is this," Agmaer muttered, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Hideous aren't they?"

The oddly accented Nordic words were spoken softly. The four whirled around. Teeth, weapons and spells at the ready. Silhouetted by the open door and standing next to one of the frozen Falmer was a snow elf. Clean shaven and youthful in appearance. His impossibly straight white hair flowing down to his lower back. The robes he wore were identical to Gelebor's. Save for a blood red sash down the center.

"I've always thought so," Calder replied in a guarded tone.

The Snow Elf nodded once.

"They weren't," He placed a long nailed hand against the frozen Falmer's face, "Once, a long time ago, they were the fairest of the Aldmer. The light of Auri-El's eye."

Calder cast a glance over to Serana. The look in her eyes told him all he needed to know. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't alive. As he was considering how to proceed, the Elf spoke again.

"I suppose you're the ones sent here to see the Arch Curate?" He nonchalantly asked.

"That's right," Calder cautiously answered after glancing at his party.

The Snow Elf took in a sharp breath and straightened up. Uniting his hands together, they disappeared into his long sleeved robes.

"Follow me."

They did as he asked. Through chamber after chamber. Up several flights of staircases. Despite the wondrous sights Calder kept his eyes firmly on the elf's back. They were walking into a trap. He knew it. Any moment now they'd turn a corner and the frozen falmer all around them would reanimate. Any second they'd step into some kind of false floor or a rune. Yet none of his dire premonitions came to pass. They reached their destination unmolested.

The Elf led them out onto a large courtyard of sorts. Judging by the strong winds and the amount of stairs they climbed Calder guessed they were at the peak of the mountain. It was very much like the entranceway. A massive split stone staircase leading up to a raised platform facing west. The rising sun was about 3/4s of the way over the horizon. Bathing the place in its amber orange glow. Illuminating two massive ice sculptures. Dragons. One on the ground and one in mid take off. A curious sight. Calder had expected another statue to Auriel, or perhaps a…

The sun caught the statue at just the right angle. Calder's eye twitched and dread filled his heart. He had never known an ice statue to be red. Or teeth. His horror caused him to act rashly. Running up to the closest of the two. It was only a split second for his worst suspicions to be confirmed.

"What have you done to them!" Calder bellowed. Placing his hand against Voslaarum's frozen wing.

"For all their power they really were easily manipulated fools," The Snow Elf offered to no one in particular, "The most basic of illusion spells was enough to convince them hundreds resided in the Chantry."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Still, they served their purpose."

Just as Calder feared the dragons were truly dead. Proven after their souls vacated their bodies. Leaving behind only their skeletons. Without the flesh great pockets of air appeared in their icy tombs and they broke apart. Filling the courtyard with half melted slush and dragonbone bits. A low and ancient hmmm broke the silence.

"So you are the dragonborn," The Snow Elf did not hide his shock, "well now this is interesting."

Calder turned to face the being again. This time getting in front of his party and holding his shield at ready. Whoever this thing was he had just killed two ancient dragons. They were in far more danger than Calder had initially believed. The Snow Elf approached them calmly. Speaking as he did.

"Now if you're the dragonborn," He pointed at the vampire. His long sleeved robes parting gently, "That must make you Serana Volkihar. Yes?"

"You know our names," Serana growled back, "I think it only fair you give us yours."

"Arch Curate Vyrthur," The Elf bowed deeply.

It was a name that meant nothing to Calder. To Serana's on the other hand...

"Vyrthur!" She exclaimed, "You're...the one my father talked about…the one who told him about the prophecy!"

Calder's helmeted head shot to Serana's before quickly returning to Vyrthur. Emily's grip on her staff tightened and Agmaer drew his sunhallowed blade. A wicked grin spread across the snow elf's features.

"Oh child," Vyrthur took on a faux parental tone not unlike Harkon's, "I didn't just tell your father about it. I wrote it."

"But…why?" Serana demanded.

"Why? Why?" Vyrthur suddenly snarled spittle flying from his lips, "Really Serana can you not tell! Are you so blind that you can't SEE!"

He opened his eyes wide with his fingers. Behind his helmet Calder's brow furrowed. What could the Elf possibly be…

"Wait…Y-You're a…vampire," Serana whispered the last word with a look of utter shock.

"Yes but how? How could it be? Shouldn't Auri-El have protected me?" Vyrthur rhetorically and mockingly asked the questions flowing through all their minds, "That's what my father and his father before taught me. It was why we sided against our own kin who were fighting a war of extermination against your kind! Because Auri-El had a plan. It didn't matter that our culture, our race, our language were wiped clean from Skyrim by monstrous beasts from the North. It didn't matter that what was left of our proud and noble race were reduced to babbling monsters by the heathen Dwemer. No! Auri-El had a plan. It was our job to trust him."

"I served him faithfully longer than any of you pathetic mortals have been alive! The moment I was infected by one of my own initiates Auri-El turned his back on me! Just like he turned his back on the entire snow elf race! Now I shall make him pay. All I needed was the bow and the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbor. Now at last the dragon's eye will be blinded and Auri-El will FEEL MY PAIN!"

"You were waiting... all this time for someone with my blood to come along? Well, too bad for you!" Serana yelled, conjuring a massive ball of blood magic, "I intend on keeping it! Let's see if your blood has any power to it!""

Serana's blood magic beam struck Vyrthur in the chest. Shattering the icy illusion into pieces. Jagged chunks of it joining the larger ones all around them. What came next was sudden. The sound of the ice must have obscured it; Because there was no warning. No whirling or whistling. No dull thud. Serana didn't even cry out. One moment she was standing in their midst. Then the next an elven arrow, the size of a harpoon, was sticking out of her chest. Her black blood soaking into the material.

They all stood there a second in silence. Disbelief. Shock. Serana didn't make a sound as she fell face forward. Caught at the last second by a Calder more panicked than Emily had ever seen. So focused on his love that he didn't even bother to scan for incoming arrows. Frantically calling Serana's name as the light in her eyes began to dim. His was not the only yelling. Agmaer too had wailed out a panicked "Oh gods!" pointing behind them.

Emily traced his line of sight. Above them, standing on the roof of the Chantry, was Vyrthur. The real Vyrthur. Bow still aimed at Serana.

A bow unlike anything Emily had ever seen.

White as birch, with silver and gold etchings. It sparkled in the early dawn sunlight. Even from the distance Emily could feel its magic. More powerful than anything she'd ever felt. It was Auriel's Bow. It had to be. Her revelation was interrupted by Calder. He roughly shoved past her. Nearly knocking her to the ground.

STRUN BAH QO!

Black storm clouds answered Calder's thu'um. He stretched out his hand. Preparing to focus the lightning. Vyrthur mimicked his foe. Silvery white magika curled around his svelte fingers. His feet left the ground and the half melted snow around him liquified. Pooling beneath his bare toes. A watery bubble, reminiscent of a cloak spell, enveloped him. With a roar that dwarfed the thunder Calder brought the lightning down on Serana's murderer. The bolt crashed into Vyrthur's water shield. Its titanic charge absorbed and redirected; Traveling down into the slushy ice that covered the courtyard. The ice that all, save Vyrthur, were standing on.

The electrical charge was so potent Calder didn't even spasm. It was almost comical how fast he found himself on the ground. His body stiff as a plank. Unconsciousness nearly claimed him. Were it not for the utter agony in his chest it just might have. When the sharpness of the pain mellowed out to a dull ache Calder tasted blood in his mouth. His already badly damaged heart began to pump faster. The fear he'd bitten off his own tongue filled his being.

You…are my champion…and I've no use for a dragonborn who can't shout

Within the darkness of his mind Mora was louder than ever. A weak moan forced Calder's eyes open. Despite her injury Serana had managed to shield herself from the electrical surge. She was alive! Hope filled his heart and he instinctively tried to rush to her side. Finding his muscles unwilling to respond to his mind's commands. All he could do was watch. Watch in horror as Vyrthur confidently approached his wounded prize.

Oh my Champion. Why do you push me away? Must you lose another lover?

Desperately Serana hurled a few blood magic spells at the approaching elf. They were weak, uncoordinated, and calmly dodged. Vyrthur was on her in seconds. Twin elven daggers were driven through her palms. She opened her mouth to scream but Calder couldn't hear it. There was only one voice. That wretched oily voice he'd fought so long to banish.

Let it not be said that I, Hermaneus Mora, am not merciful. That I do not reward those who seek my forgiveness…

With Serana subdued, Vyrthur bent down. Slender fingers curled around the arrow shaft still in her chest. Then he began to pull. Calder's heart burst as Serana's face contorted into utter agony. Blood and bile flowed from her mouth as the arrow ruptured her internal organs. Never in his life had he felt more powerless. How was this happening? He was the dragonborn! Hero of prophecy! Ysmir, Dragon of the North! Slayer of Alduin! The most powerful mortal on Nirn! NOW THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE WAS DYING! TORTURED IN FRONT OF HIM AND HE COULDN'T DO ANYTHING!

Was it not my Book that gave you the power to defeat Alduin? The Daedric Prince took on a disturbingly sincere comforting tone, Did I not gift you the words to strike down your wife's murderer?

Vyrthur at last pulled his prize out of Serana. Holding the bloodcursed arrow up for all Mundas to see. Yet even as the Et'Ada recoiled in horror a miracle happened. Sheer desperation had opened Calder's lips. He might be able to get off a shout.

But which?

The snow elf was a master cryomancer, Fire and Frost were out of the question. Storm Call hadn't worked, Unrelenting Force could be dodged, Drag…No. A hero from Sovengarde could be defeated, Disarm and Cyclone weren't applicable. Did he have anything else? Anything? Frantically Calder double, triple, and quadruple checked his mental inventory. Each time coming to the same conclusion.

There is no shout you know that will stop Vyrthur, Mora's dispassionate tone was laced with smugness, Only I can give you what you seek.

Yet even as the Demon of Fate's temptation became too much to bear, something stirred in Calder's soul. An old feeling. One he hadn't felt for a decade. Though Mora tried to prevent it, Calder retreated inward. Deeper and deeper. It wasn't long before he found them. They boiled in rage, their power great and terrible. They knew something. They knew a shout. One that had served them well since the Dawn. One that they wanted Calder to unleash at their vanquisher. The Arch Curate who had betrayed them and their oaths.

Calder made his choice.

Naaslaarum and Voslaarum would speak through him. One last time.

GAAN LAH HAAS!

The unfamiliar shout erupted from Calder's lips. Phasing straight through Vyrthur's raised ice wall; It impacted with the vampire's chest. For a split second Calder feared it had done nothing. Then the beast's eyes went wide and he began to scream. Never in Calder's life of battle, war, and death had he heard a being scream like Vyrthur did. With an awful fleshy sound every single vein and artery on the snow elf's undead body popped out. He seemed to age a thousand years in seconds as wrinkles overran his smooth skin. The vampire's health, magika, and most importantly his stamina was ripped from his body and flowed into Calder's.

As the Snow Elf collapsed to the ground Calder shot to his feet. Feeling as though he'd just consumed a thousand of the most potent healing potions. He looked over the fallen figures of the rest of his party. Agmaer, Emily, and Meeko. The lightning had nearly killed him. They hadn't stood a chance. No matter. Calder pointed at them, and bade them to rise.

MID VUR SHAAN!

The light of Aetherius had nearly enveloped her when she felt it. As though a Master of Restoration had dumped his entire magika pool into one healing spell. Emily's eyes flew open and she shot upright. Taking in enormous gasps of air. Agmaer and Meeko mimicking her actions. Calder towered over them. An aura of authority and power radiating off him. They gaped in awe. This was not Calder that stood before them. This was the Dragonborn.

"Emily, Serana! Agmaer you're with me!" Calder boomed.

Emily didn't have to be told twice. She ran over to Serana's side. Dropping to her knees and skidding across the ice. It was only by a second that she managed to cancel her restoration spell. Serana was undead. It was blood she needed. Frantically rummaging through the vampire's travel bag revealed only one blood vial. Uncorking it with her teeth Emily dropped the contents down the vampire's mouth. A little bit of light returned to the vampire's eyes but Emily knew it wouldn't have been enough. She drew her cooking knife and hesitated. Begging Stendarr for forgiveness she plunged it into her wrist. Opening a vein before holding the bleeding limb over Serana's mouth.

Calder, Agmaer, and Meeko rushed to the Vyrthur. Emboldened by the recent turn of events. Vyrthur, though grievously wounded, was hobbling up the stairs of the balcony. Taking them two at a time. Meeko got to him first. Pouncing at the vampire. Vyrthur used Auriel's Bow like a club. Batting away the enormous war dog in mid air. Hearing the loyal mutt cry out in pain only enraged Calder even more than he thought possible. Enough that he reached within his burning lungs for another shout.

TIID KLO UL!

The words of power brought the dragon's march to a mere crawl. In that frozen time Calder closed the distance between himself and Vyrthur. He grabbed the vampire by his neck. Lifting his surprisingly light body with ease. In the stillness of the frozen time the sound of Calder's dagger being drawn was deafening. It would have been so easy to ram it straight through the beast's head. So easy. But Vyrthur didn't deserve an easy death.

Vyrthur was going to suffer for what he had just done.

Calder placed the tip of the nordic dagger against Vyrthur's chest. One quick incision was all it took. Ribs would crack and break as Calder shoved his armored hand inside. Searching for that wretched black heart to rip out and crush before the snow elf's eyes. The very same punishment he'd given to Lydia's murderers.

The memory caused Calder to grit his teeth. He drew the weapon back but even in the frozen time Vyrthur was too fast. His hand shot out. Wrapping around Calder's wrist. Before Calder could process it the vampire violently wrenched it to the side. Pain exploded in his hand and an awful snapping sound accompanied it. The dagger slipped from his grasp and time returned to normal. Only as the monster's feet impacted with his chest did Calder realize his fatal mistake. Vyrthur was a vampire. A creature that could move at superhuman speeds. How many times had he fought such beasts? How many times had Serana's speed and strength surprised him?

Fool. Now your fate is…complete. Goodbye Fafnir of Riverwood.

The drop kick sent Calder flying backwards. Losing his balance there was nowhere to go but down. Tumbling head over feet down the staircase before coming to a rest at the bottom. Battered, bruised and thoroughly dazed.

Undeterred, Agmaer reached Vyrthur. With a feral cry he brought his sunhallowed sword down on the vampire. Vyrthur blocked the impact with the bow but his strength was rapidly fading. Agmaer increased his pressure against it. Vyrthur's arms began to buckle. The tip of the sunhallowed sword sunk lower and lower until it managed to pierce undead flesh. Vyrthur shrieked in panic and pain as the holy blade cut a shallow wound from his forehead to his left eyebrow. Seeing his foe weakened, Agmaer drew back his sword. Gambling everything on one final two handed stab.

Vyrthur used his considerable speed to sidestep the youth. Magika swirled around his free hand. Before Agmaer knew it the icy staircase morphed beneath his very feet. Tipping him to the side and over the railing. He fell the short distance to the courtyard below. Landing heavily on his side. Knocked unconscious by the fall. With Serana stabilized Emily tried to attend to her friend. Tried. Her vision swam and she sank to her knees. Her staff slipped from her grasp. The blood. She'd lost too much blood.

The sun was right in her eyes and she squinted, not able to muster the energy to raise her hand. Suddenly a shadow fell over her. At the top of the raised platform, between herself and the sun, was Vyrthur. It was only then that Emily realized the awful truth.

"Calder, he's going for the sun!" She weakly cried out.

He knew it. He'd known it since he'd seen the arrow sticking out of his beloved. Yet hearing the mortal terror in Emily's cry somehow made it more real. Calder forced himself to his feet. The searing pain in his knee and side was ignored. He stumbled and fell twice on his mad dash up the stairs. Each time he screamed out the pain of broken ribs. He kept going. He had to.

By the time he made it to the top Vyrthur had drawn back the bowstring. Bloodcursed Arrow notched and pointed at the rising sun. Fear unlike anything Calder had ever felt caused seconds to stretch to hours. Out of breath. Out of time. Out of weapons. His dominant hand mangled. With his left hand he drew the small hunting knife he kept in his belt. It wasn't big, it wasn't sharp, and it was not a throwing knife. Yet Calder felt peace. He would strike down his foe. The gods were with him. Talos was with him. Shor and the old gods were with him. He was made for moments like this.

He was the Dragonborn.

With a desperate cry he hurled the weapon through the air. Emily watched, her heart in her throat, as it flew. Glimmering in the early morning light. Their one chance at salvation. Calder's knife buried itself in Vyrthur's back. Right where the vampire's heart was. But victory was not theirs.

The bowstring had been loosened.

The profane black arrow flew through the air. Vyrthur's aim was true, and the bloodcursed arrow pierced its mark. Kyne's breath stopped. Nirn gasped in horror. For a moment there was nothing and then…a horrid sight…unlike anything Nirn had seen. Pulsating black red tendrils crawled over the face of the sun. Digging into it and choking out its light. Within seconds it was over. The land had grown dark. What little light was left was now a deep maroon red.

The Tyranny of the Sun had finally come to an end.

Calder and Emily starred in abject horror at the sight. There was but one voice who had the audacity to speak after such an unspeakable horror.

"From Oblivion's heart I blind thee," Vyrthur's voice was weak. Somewhere between a giggle and a groan, "For hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."

With one last ragged breath his body dissolved into ash. Auriel's Bow clattered to the ground in the oppressive silence that followed.

Author's Notes: Quite the turn of events huh? Hope it wasn't too long of a chapter (seriously I need to stop with these 6000 word chapters) and once again sorry for the wait. Thank you to all my kudos/bookmarkers/commenters who've stuck with me over my update schedule. I treasure you all 3