A/N: Well, Chapter 3. I can definitely tell you we will see more different types of daedra (more demonic ones) in this arc. Have to make subtle changes, right?
This chapter gives even me the creeps rereading it.
Whispers of the Night
Summary: One year after Serana died and she left Astrid, Alana has left for Solstheim to be alone and never harm another innocent. Enemies new and old are rising, and it is never easy for one to free themselves from the shackles of their demons…
*Book 1: The Black Swordswoman Part 3*
Alana was the first one out of the barrow, not stopping to look back at Saoron. The knapsack he carried contained the unusual black book they found, and the overpowering sensation of dread was overpowering; it swirled around and choked her senses, making it hard for her to breathe let alone think. She could taste it; it was sickening, like a poison.
'What the hell is that book? It can't be something made by humans or elves. It has to be daedric. It just has to be.' The blonde felt her arm shake and she brushed her fingers against the thin fabric of the black sleeve covering it. 'Dammit. I've lost a bit more of my strength than I thought. That dragon priest, whoever he was, put up a good fight against us. Too good of one.'
She knew all too well that her strength had waned in the past year. Her usual fiery will in battle was mostly sapped, leaving her little more than an empty shell. When Serana was around, Alana would have to either be killed or knocked out before she'd give up in a fight, using unstoppable willpower to fight through even the worst of injuries.
Now, she wasn't even sure what kept her going. Was it Saoron's encouragement? Or was it her own twisted logic of wanting Astrid to be furious with her? Alana simply didn't know. 'Why am I fighting? I don't exactly have much to live for, do I? I left Astrid, and it's only a matter of time before Mephala goes after Saoron. I'd be better off dead, if only to keep Mephala's hands away from him.'
'How do you know she hasn't already set her sights on him? For all you know, she could be waiting for just the right time to strike, like last time. Maybe she'll have him put you out of your misery, you murderous bitch. You deserve it, for the things you've done. You slew Alduin only to bring more despair to the world.'
Did she really save the world by killing Alduin? Or did she merely open the gates for the daedra to once again invade Tamriel, using her as a sort of gateway? After all, it was her fault that Vaermina and Mephala were as powerful as they were now.
If she hadn't been such a damn weakling and fallen for their lies, perhaps Tamriel could call itself safe. But right now the world was still in very grave danger. Mephala was more powerful than she had been in centuries and there was very little she couldn't do with the power at her fingertips.
And all of it fell on Alana's shoulders.
Akatosh himself chose her to bear his blood. She was a child of the very gods themselves and all she did was misuse her gifts and fall for the words of demons. Demons that would haunt her for the rest of her existence, never letting her forget of her failure to protect the ones she loved. 'Serana…I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I was such a weak minded idiot.'
'Maybe, just maybe, if I didn't drag you into my mess, you'd be alive.' It was her mistakes, her past sins, that cost Serana her life. How could she possibly atone for that?
'I can't. Nothing I do or say will give you your life back. Dammit! You should've never fallen in love with a monster like me. I didn't deserve you. I never did. I hurt you by sleeping with Astrid, and yet you still loved me even though I wasn't worthy of it. I should've died instead of you.'
Alana felt her head become hot. Unnaturally hot. Her frail mind burned with her past agonies, making her see everything she had done. The crimes she committed. The blood she spilled. The people she killed. "Why? Why did you hurt us, Alana?"
"We only wanted to be your friends."
The blonde clutched the sides of her head, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to block the voices out. 'Shut up, shut up!'
"But why? Why did you do such horrible things to us? We trusted you, Alana."
'Dammit, get out of my head!' Her cursed arm trembled, a deadly red energy swirling around it like a foul and malevolent mist. She could see their faces as clear as day in front of her, all of them torn up and bloody because of her. Yet despite their horrifying wounds, they smiled at her. Blood dripped from their mouths like crimson rain, and soon the soft dripping was all she could hear.
Drip...drip…drip…
"How does it feel? Knowing that you are responsible for our deaths?" Their voices joined together into one, and Alana's eyes flung open. No matter where she turned her head, she could see them circling her, drawing closer and closer like a pack of wolves about to rip and tear an elk to shreds with their fangs.
"Does it hurt?" they asked, giving her a bloodstained smile. Slimy hissing serpents spilled from between their teeth, creeping along the ground towards her. Alana went to run, but they ensnared her by her ankles and dragged her towards them, their purple eyes glinting as they hissed at her.
Alana fell on her back, and her hand found the handle of her zweihander. She hacked the snakes away, their blood bubbling and spitting like acid as it flowed from their severed heads, and she dragged the heavy blade across the ground before attempting to cut her vision down. "Just stop!"
Her sword swung in an arc, but before she could strike them they all vanished in a flurry of red smoke. The heavy blade hit nothing but air and she collapsed onto her knees, using her sword to lean against.
"Why…?" she asked quietly, tears dripping down her face. "Why does it have to be me?" 'I never wanted this. For any of you.'
"But you still did it. Run all you want. We will always be here. You can never escape."
'Dammit, just leave me alone!' Alana rose up, stumbling as pain lanced through her knee. She had hit the ground rather hard with that last desperate swing of her sword, and she could still feel them all watching her hungrily.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt cold steel on her shoulder, and her hand found the handle of her zweihander. Saoron put his hands in the air, backing away. "Easy. It's just me."
Alana relaxed, feeling a sense of guilt evade her mind. She had been inches away from accidentally killing her own friend when all he wanted to do was help her. 'Look at you. About to kill the only friend you have left. Murderer.'
The powerful magical presence coming from the book made her arm tremble and her head throb painfully, and the blonde glanced back at the brunet before walking away from him. "I'll go and hunt some netch for Milore. I heard her saying something about running out of their jelly. You head on to Raven Rock without me." 'I don't want to be anywhere near that damn book if I can help it. It screams daedric in origin, and not a weak one.'
Saoron went to stop her, but thought better of it. Instead, his jaw tightened slightly and he nodded. "Okay. Try and stay safe."
"No promises."
"Alana, I mean it. Don't…don't do anything you'll regret."
'I wouldn't regret it. I should die for what I've done.' The blonde didn't meet his solemn eyes as they descended the wooden planks of the towers in front of the barrow. The old wood creaked and groaned under their weight, some parts of it crumbling away from mold and fungi, and the brown sea lapped at the ashy shores below them.
A lone reaver was standing guard, and his ruby red eyes shot open with alarm. "What the!?" He reached for a rusty iron sword, and he began to choke and sputter after a crossbow bolt sank into his throat. His sword fell from his grasp and he sank to his knees, letting out horrible coughs as he tried to remove the bolt.
Alana let another one sink into his heart, and she lowered the weapon as his body crumpled in a heap. Blood began to spill from the wound, seeping deep into his hide armor and running down his body.
Drip…drip…drip…
That sound was enough to make her lose control of her senses. Her fangs grew as the scent of blood wafted towards her. Compared to the sweet nectar of life that flowed through Astrid's veins, this dunmer's odor was pungent and tainted by alcohol.
Still, it was better than starving. Rather reluctantly, she crouched down and let her sharp canines pierce the dead dunmer's throat. Spurts of blood pumped out from her puncturing an artery, and it flowed over her tongue with all the elegance of a clogged river.
Alana stood up and wiped her chin once she had her fill and headed down up the coast, going north away from Raven Rock. Her boots sank gently in the ashy sand, and she could hear the gentle chiming of a nirnroot plant by the shore. The rare plant glowed brightly in the darkness of night, and a trio of netch floated by the cliffside. The large creatures were unaware of the blonde, and she pulled out a steel bolt to load her crossbow.
'Forgive me. Please.' She aimed and fired.
The bolt soared true, and it struck the bull netch in its leathery skin. The creature was surprised by the sudden attack, and it floated towards her with its head lowered in preparation for an attack. A second and third crossbow embedded themselves in its skin, and the netch crashed to ground in defeat.
The betty netch and its calf, seeing the male taken down with such ease, opted to retreat instead of risk taking on the blonde vampire. Alana didn't pay them mind; instead she harvested the thick slimy jelly from its body, storing it in her alchemy pouch sewn to the leg of her pants. 'That ought to be enough for her. I'll leave it by her alchemy table in town.'
She could feel exhaustion eating away at her limbs, and all she could concentrate on was putting one foot in front of the other as she headed back into town. Saoron had probably already made it back by now.
Alana stopped in her tracks and lowered her head, reaching for Clockwork. She could feel something behind her, and it wasn't friendly. "Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me!?" She whirled around and swung her sword at the shadowy mass that appeared behind her.
Her blade missed entirely; the creature dodged the strike with the grace of a dancer and hit her hard in the chest. The blonde fell on her back, spitting out a mouthful of blood and getting a good look at her assailant.
The being was utterly hideous, with a humanoid face stuck in the middle of a snake's head. A long purple tongue lolled about, and the demon cackled madly as it took a swipe at her with one of its clawed hands. The claws themselves were longer than her forearm, and the arms muscular. It was bipedal and stood over twelve feet tall, and before Alana could react, a powerful lash of its tail sent her crashing through the brittle wood of a tree.
Alana rolled to her feet, holding her left arm. It dangled uselessly at her side, and she cried out when she tried to move it. It was broken, and the vampire fired her crossbow at it. The bolt barely punctured the tough sickly green scales of its chest, and the demon laughed. "You think you can kill me!? No pathetic human can kill me!"
It hit her again with its tail, catching her in the chest. Her ribs cracked, and she spat out a mouthful of blood. This was no ordinary daedra. This was something else entirely, and it was beating her badly.
Alana rolled to the side to avoid getting stabbed in the chest by a talon, reaching out for her sword. She cried in pain as the demon's tail slammed into her back. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and yet she still reached out towards her sword.
The tail came down again, this time on her hand. Fingers broke, but she still refused to give up. She had bested dragons, for Talos' sake. She was not about to let this monster beat her.
But that third strike hit the back of her leg, damaging her knee. She could barely even stand, and she let out a pained cry as the demon picked her up with one hand, its tongue swirling about. The sharp talons dug into her shoulders, blood gushing wetly from the wounds, and the daedra hunter could barely stay conscious.
She hadn't been so thoroughly beaten like this since she battled Boethiah's Champion over a year ago. She could feel every wound, every broken bone. Her vampire blood was coursing through her body, trying to repair the damage as best as it could, but there was so much it was trying to focus on to do any good.
The demon smirked triumphantly, licking its lips at her. Its purple eyes glowed in triumph as it stared the badly injured hunter down. "Fragile. So easily broken. You humans are nothing more than prey for us demons. You will make one delicious treat."
The beast opened its powerful jaws to swallow her whole, revealing razor sharp teeth, and Alana's lips parted. "Fus Ro Dah!" The blast of magic sent the demon tumbling onto its back, dropping the blonde unceremoniously. Alana crashed in a heap and noticed her sword was lying right next to her next to the sleeve she used to cover her afflicted right arm.
She picked up the silver zweihander with one hand and dragged the tip across the ground. With one desperate swing of the mighty blade, she cleaved the demon in half at the shoulder. Blood sprayed out of the wound viciously as the heavy sword tore through ribbons of flesh, and the demon screamed in agony.
Wobbling to her feet, Alana stalked towards the fallen monster with a storm of hatred brewing in her golden gaze. "Didn't you say a human couldn't kill you?"
The demon was still partially alive, and its eyes were wide with fear as it looked at her right arm, now exposed for it to see. "T-that arm! You're the…!"
It screamed as a crossbow bolt sank into its bloody chest, and Alana stared at it with contempt. She would enjoy making this bastard suffer. "That's right. We humans are fragile and weak. And yet when we're pushed to breaking, we find a way to fight back. Every. Single. Time. Perhaps you should understand our pain." Another bolt hit it in the face.
Her lips curled in a furious snarl. "I will be the messenger who will deliver you to that pain and understanding." The third bolt hit its bloody and beaten body, sinking into the remains of the left side of its chest.
"P-please! Please, don't kill me!" it pleaded, its eyes wide with fear. "J-just stop! I beg of you!"
Alana let out a bitter laugh, her eyes merciless molten pits of fury as she stepped hard on one of the bolts to drive it deeper into the demon's body. Blood welled up and it screamed in agony, and the blonde leaned down to spit bloody saliva in its ugly face. "Tell me, how many times have you heard those exact words?"
"Y-you will never—"
Alana's sword came down through its head, killing the demon. Her sword went down to its scaly throat, and she removed it with her eyes filled with hate. "It was a rhetorical question."
The demon's body hissed and bubbled, turning into a pool of black acid until it vanished. With it gone Alana fell to her knees, letting her own blood run from her body. Every breath hurt, and she felt her battered chest gingerly.
Whatever that creature was, it wasn't any ordinary daedra. It was much stronger than anything she had ever gone up against and it put her through hell. Her adrenaline was wearing off, and she could hear the steady dripping of blood from Clockwork.
Drip…drip…drip…
Using her sword for leverage, Alana hefted herself to her feet painfully and began to limp back towards Raven Rock. Her leg was practically useless for the time being; even with her vampire powers it would take at least three days for her to recover from being bashed by the foul demon's tail.
'What was that thing? It wasn't like anything I've ever fought against. It…it was like something out of a nightmare.' The being knew who she was once it saw her arm, too. Only a daedra could possibly recognize the limb's curse. But what was it? Who created such a foul monster with the sole intent of hunting her down and waiting until she was alone to strike?
'Perhaps if you let it kill you, you would have found out,' part of her thought with a snarl. 'And you would taste the pain you deserve.'
Alana lowered her head, her heart heavy with guilt and regret. The demon that attacked her was assuredly only the first of many that would come out and try to take her life, as well as those of anyone around her. The entire population of Raven Rock was possibly in danger, and she had brought the demons right to their doorstep. The colony was practically a feast for them.
Her head throbbed painfully, and she rubbed her temples with a wince. She needed to sleep, especially after tonight. Her eyelids drooped and became heavier with each step, and after a few hours she found herself back in Raven Rock.
The colony was eerily quiet, almost too quiet. The salty tang of the sea landed on her tongue, and she coughed as a bit of ash got in her throat. 'Damn ash.'
She looked down at herself, and her lip curled in disgust. Her pants were riddled with rips and tears, exposing the pale skin underneath. The right strap of her vest had been ripped, letting it fall partially forward. The cool wind battered at her chest, and she shivered. 'This island still gets too damn cold for my liking at night.'
The blonde eventually found herself standing front Milore's farm in town. The only light was the dim fires provided by Glover Mallory's forge, but her dark clothing allowed her to blend in with the shadows easier. She reached into her alchemy pouch and set the netch jelly on the alchemy table, hastily scribbling out a note for the alchemist when she woke up the next morning with her husband.
Milore,
I heard you were running out of netch jelly. I fetched some for you last night. I hope this is enough to replenish your stock.
-The Black Swordswoman
Short, to the point, and without ask of a reward. She didn't want to be rewarded for killing. Not anymore. Alana was tired of seeing gold float her way for spilling blood.
With the note placed under the jelly Alana turned away and left the farm. She could hear the approaching footsteps of an approaching Redoran Guard in the distance, the stiff bonemold boots sinking into the ashy soil, and she did not want to be caught by one of the elite soldiers.
Alana quickly made her way to her home, fumbling with the key due to her broken arm, and eventually she eased it open without being seen. She closed locked the door behind her and slid down to the floor with a labored breath. The cool stone surface felt wonderful on her body at the present time, and she raised her good arm to push her long hair back. Her hand came away wet with blood, and she scoffed before rising up and hobbling over to her bed.
Alana let Clockwork rest against the wall and she looked at the blade as she cautiously undressed herself to not aggravate her existing injuries any more than she already had. The aetherium coating was unscratched despite the beating Alana just put it through; she doubted even Requiem could have lasted against such a demon.
She peeled her vest and pants off, grimacing. Her vest could be repaired, but the pants would definitely need to be placed at the market in the morning. They simply couldn't be salvaged, no matter what she tried. Blood and grime coated the bits that weren't torn, and the blonde chucked them into the fireplace.
Holding her side as she felt pain shoot through her body, she clumsily made her way to her bed and flopped down on it. It wasn't the most luxurious of beds ever made, but right now it felt softer and more inviting than anything she had ever slept on.
Alana stared blankly at the ceiling, the dim light of the candles creating a spectacular painting of moving shadows on the walls. 'What am I doing? Why am I forcing myself to go on each day, pretending that I could make things better? I haven't done anything good. All I do is lie, cheat, and kill.'
She never felt so lonely before. Alana had become very used to Serana's presence at night; she would be the calming presence Alana desperately needed when her nightmares were at their worst. Now, she was left to suffer with them alone. No comforting kiss on the cheek, no tender embrace; nothing.
'Serana, I shouldn't have tried to fight back. I should've just accepted death, if it meant sparing you.'
'Then why don't you, you worthless bitch? Do it. Throw yourself off a cliff. No one would care. They'd probably rejoice when your corpse floats to shore.'
Alana let her head sink on her pillow and closed her eyes. She was afraid to admit it, but her other self was right.
She should die.
Geldis whistled a cheerful tune as he cleaned the bar of his club, a smile etched onto his old features. Things were starting to turn around, little by little. The ebony mine had been reopened after Crescius managed to find proof that he wasn't a crazy old hermit, meaning once again there was a steady source of income. The miners were happy to once again be back at work, and all of it was thanks to Saoron's discovery in the mines last night. But that wasn't the only news in town.
Milore had found a supply of netch jelly that would keep her stock full for the next few months. And she had received a letter for the person responsible. The Black Swordswoman herself.
The town was surprised to hear the news, but Councilor Morvayn seemed elated. He carried himself with a much calmer air now that it seemed as though the daedra hunter had nothing but good intentions for them. 'There's hope here again. We've been lacking it for a long time. The mines are open, and that means the shops will be busy again. Fethis and his daughter will be happy for once.'
The old dunmer looked up and sighed when he saw the blonde Nord stumble into the cornerclub, looking no worse for wear. She looked as though something ate her and spat her back out; thick bandages covered both of her arms and her knee, and several ugly cuts were on her cheeks. 'By Azura, what happened to her?'
His first instinct was to try and ask if she was okay, but he saw the familiar look in her golden eyes. The girl was anything but okay. She limped over to the bar and lowered herself onto a stool with a wince, and the dunmer put down the rag he was using to clean a plate from last night. "The usual?"
Alana nodded yes and Geldis reached under the counter to pull out a bottle of whiskey, pouring the woman a drink. She took it in her right hand and downed its contents, and Geldis' red eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The entire year the Nord had been a resident of Raven Rock, he had only ever seen her use her left hand to drink or do any kind of task. She had favored her right hand due to whatever injury lied underneath the heavy black bandages.
But now, Geldis was able to make out a bit of blackened flesh peeking out from the bandage. 'Her arm…what is that? Is it a plague?' He dismissed the possibility of it being an illness. Despite her drinking, she was relatively healthy physically.
"Miss, are you alright?" he asked, gesturing to her arm.
Alana covered her arm immediately, averting her gaze. "I'm fine."
"Alana—"
"Don't call me that," she snarled, meeting his gaze with a glare that would freeze a bear in its tracks. Her hand trembled, and Geldis could see the pain swimming in those brilliant eyes of hers as she stood up from the bar. "Don't ever call me that."
She dumped a small pile of coin onto the bar before leaving as fast as her injured state would allow her. As he stared at her retreating back, a thought crossed his mind. It was an impossible one, for no one had caught her in the act, but it was still there. 'Those kinds of injuries…you only pick those up by fighting.'
'Is it her? Is she the daedra hunter?'
But that would mean either Saoron was lying to him or genuinely didn't know. Something told the old elf that it was the former; he had seen how loyal the Breton was to her. Saoron still never told Geldis what it was that Alana came to him for over a year ago.
If Alana truly was the Black Swordswoman…then Geldis honestly felt like he could rest a little easier. The nightmares that had started to plague his sleep in recent weeks were about to come to a swift and brutal end.
A/N: Yeah, this fic is kinda fucked up, I know. There are parts of this even I can't stand to reread. It's just…I dunno, really not good for my mental health. These kinds of stories affect you mentally.
C. Strife #5371