Serana opened her eyes, staring at the roaring fire burning a few inches away. Sometimes she still had to remind herself that she was now free. Free to do whatever she wanted, free from the glorified game of chess between her parents. Free because of one unlikely hero. A hero that was relaxing beside the fire, absentmindedly poking the heart of the fire with a stick.

"Hey. Sleep well?"

"Never thought I would miss the flea-ridden cushions back home… Don't know how you sleep on the ground all the time."

The scar along the Nord's jaw was pulled tight as he smiled. Serana always felt guilty over that scar. A present that he had received from Harkon when he had taken a blow meant for her. She told him to go and visit the face sculptor in Riften, but he said no. Said it would help 'build his legend'…

"Nords are a hardy people. Wouldn't do their legendary hero any good if the Dovahkiin couldn't sleep on a few stones and pebbles."

"Lest I need to remind you Horik, I am a Nord too."

"Not my fault then that you've gone all soft, is it princess?"

Serana narrowed her eyes at the jibe. Horik stuck out his tongue jokingly before he went back to poking at the fire. Serana could see along the horizon that dawn wasn't too far off. They had been on their way to Dawnstar on a mission to clear out a bandit den when Serana had somehow managed to trip over an exposed tree root and twist her ankle. Being an all-powerful pure-blooded daughter of Coldharbour, Serana had tried to assure Horik that she would be perfectly fine in a short while, but her objections fell on deaf ears. He picked her up bridal-style, despite her screaming in defiance, and carried her off to a nearby clearing. Within seconds he had a bedroll stretched out and the embers of a fire starting. Serana didn't even realise how tired she was, but as soon as he head hit the sack that Horik used as a pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Her first without any nightmares for quite a long time.

Horik stood up and replaced his sword and axe on his belt, extending his hand out, he helped Serana up off the ground and as she dusted herself off, with a click of his fingers, Horik had the fire extinguished and the ashes spread out.

"How's the ankle?"

"Fine like I told you it was going to be yesterday."

"Okay. I'm sorry that I forced you to take a break. Happy?"

"Ecstatic…" Serana smiled. Horik thought it was a beautiful sight, and it was simply another reason that he was angry with Harkon and Valerica that they forced such a beautiful thing to be hidden and almost shameful.

"Great. Let's go clear out that den."

Serana watched Horik throw the small pouch of coin into the air. The den had only ended up taking them a couple of minutes to rout out the infestation. A robbery of a wagon leaden with barrels of mead had led to the gang celebrating with their pilfered liquor and in their sorry state, they weren't in any state to go up against a modern legend and a fully sated vampire. Horik was hesitant to take the coin but was powerless against the insistent farmer who wanted to thank the Dragonborn for avenging his wife and son. They had planned to leave earlier in the day, but the farmer insisted on taking care of them, sharing stories of his wife and son and the incredible stories that this seemingly common farmer had been through. Taking only a fraction of the posted price when they left, Horik had sold the weapons that he had taken from the bandits and paid for a small banquet of food and drink to be delivered to the farmer so that he would have no worries with the upcoming winter months. It was a strange sight for Serana to see someone who always seemed to be thinking of others rather than the furtherment of their own goals and if she was being honest with herself, it was what sparked her intense interest in the Nordic warrior all those months previous. Swept up in the whirlwind that was Horik Magnusson, Serana couldn't find the strength to fight against the current, and in the end, simply welcomed it.

"Any plans for the rest of the day?"

"A courier dropped off a letter from Lydia. Seems to be something strange going on near Whiterun. Balgruuf asked for his expert on the paranormal and mystical, so…"

"What kind of strange?"

"Groups of fanatics breaking out into full-on brawls in the middle of the streets. People getting hurt, farms and their fields getting razed. Then there are the markings, mystic symbols being painted all over the place. I sent word that we were nearby and would hope to be there by nightfall."

"Any ideas?"

"None. After the last few months though, it could really be anything. Wouldn't surprise me if it was a full-blown re-enactment of the Oblivion Crisis. Mehrunes Dagon and all."

"Well here's hoping that you won't need to turn into a dragon…"

"Shor's bones Serana. Why would you say that?! Fate and Lady Nocturnal can be cruel mistresses…"

"Come on then Dragonborn. Let's investigate."

Night had well and truly fallen as they approached the city gates of Whiterun. Serana could see Horik's eyebrows knit together in concern as he noticed that the gates were shut. Last time that happened, he found out he was Dovahkiin.

"Hail!"

"Maybe nobody's home?"

Just as Horik was about to speak, a torch poked over the wall.

"Who goes there! Reveal yourself!"

"It's me, Horik!"

It took the guard a moment or two to confirm who it was. The gate was pulled open and the guard stepped to one side to allow Horik and Serana access to the walled city. Another thing that surprised Serana was how quick and easily Horik could swap personalities whenever he was talking to people. Assertive and demanding with his troops, wise and intelligent with his students, or just youthful and optimistic when he would regale her with stories when they've been relaxing beside one another beside a campfire. Now he was all business.

"Tell me why were the gates shut? Is there a problem?"

"My Thane… Harbinger… Lord Dragonborn…- "

Horik placed a hand on the guard's shoulder. Being able to get a better look at him, Serana could see that he was young. Too young. Barely fifteen winters, and if Serana could bet on it, that would be at a stretch. "Calm yourself. Tell us when you're ready."

"There have been numerous gangs of mages, soldiers, monsters, and even the armoured undead marching throughout the hold. They have killed many of the hold's guardsmen. They've razed Rorikstead and Riverwood to the ground and killed many of the hold's people. The Jarl has ordered the gates shut and allowed very limited access to stop the scourge from falling upon the city. The people are scared."

Serana watched the gears twist and turn as Horik tried to think about what the cause could be. An invasion of a neighbouring land seemed unlikely as they would more likely march on Solitude rather than the centre hold. Well, if the trade hub were captured, it would cut off what would be much needed supplies…

"I'm assuming the Jarl is up in Dragonsreach?"

"Yes. Holding a security meeting with your housecarl and the circle. I think they will all be happy to see you."

Horik patted the guard on the back and pulled a sheepskin from his pack. The guard accepted the small offer and Horik laughed as he coughed from the rather unaccustomed burn of the homebrewed alcohol. The guard quickly pulled himself back together rather than appear weak before the living legend and his companion. Serana followed Horik up the hill towards the imposing keep, a smirk gracing her face.

"Knowing that stuff, that you did just willingly give to a child, here's hoping he'll actually be able to see if something is coming up that hill."

Horik grinned at Serana before continuing up the hill. "What? It's to help with the nerves."

"It'll speak wonders if he can actually stand up come morning."

The doors of Dragonsreach swung open, allowing the chill of the night to reverberate throughout the main hall. The guards dropped their head in respect to the Dragonborn, and their Thane as he and Serana headed up to the war room that Balgruuf had set up just at the top of the long staircase. The meeting seem to be in full swing as Horik could hear what was going on, long before he could see who was in attendance.

"Why not just go out and hunt down the monsters rather than just stand around a table and talk about the problem!"

"We can't just go and take all the men from the city just to march them out throughout the hold! The civil war was only a couple of months ago, we don't need the other jarls to think that Whiterun is trying to go out and expand its borders. The people of this hold need to feel safe."

"Yes! My point exactly. We- "

Aela could smell Horik before we reached the top of the stairs. She could also smell something else. Something stale. Something almost… dead.

"Horik?"

Everyone in the room seemed to leave out a breath of relief that none of them realised they were holding. Despite it having been several months since Horik had last been in the city, he looked just like he always had. Well, all except for the new scar running along his right cheek. Aela seemed to be the only one who noticed. Everyone watched as Horik and Balgruuf shook hands and welcomed each other as good friends, before Lydia, Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela did the same. After he introduced his new companion, who seemed happier to hide in the shadows, the meeting was back in full swing.

"So, tell me what is going on."

Everyone looked around before Vilkas broke the silence.

"We were hoping that you would tell us, Harbinger. Gangs are fighting throughout the hold and innocent citizens are getting caught in the crossfire. We have more and more people showing up here in the city everyday as they destroy almost everything that stands in their way. Both the Drunken Huntsmen and the Bannered Mare are full, with Jorvasskr being the only dwelling left in the city that is large enough to hold anyone."

"Good. Lydia, offer whatever space you can in the house too." Lydia gave a solemn nod.

"There is another thing. The gangs seem to be made entirely of devout followers to Molag Bal."

Horik gave a visible shudder at the mention of the daedric prince. He could see Serana behind him, but he knew she did the same. They both knew that if a Daedric Prince was involved in all this, this was only going to get worse. Much worse.

"How do you know?"

Now Balgruuf stepped forward. "My men have come close to capturing some of the members. Whenever they get close, they simply scream to Oblivion about the coming of the true master of Nirn before they plunge their daggers deep into their own hearts."

At this point Serana had come up to stand beside Horik. "We need to try and find something that can help us get to the bottom of all this."

"Well, the most recent battleground was nearby. A short distance outside Riverwood, or rather where Riverwood used to be. There could be a clue or something there."

"Serana and I will go and check it out. Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas? You three rally the Companions and help wherever you can. Limit damage and destruction as much as you possibly can. We'll get to the bottom of this."

Since they had left Whiterun, Horik was worried about Serana. He knew that her love for the Daedric prince of Dominion went as deep as his own and there was no way that he would be able to keep her away from this even if he wanted to. She hadn't said a word since they left.

"All okay back there?"

He could only hear silence from his travelling companion and stopped. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to get her to look at him, but she was a million miles away.

"Serana! Would you please look at me?!"

She looked up, and for an instance Horik could see a youth in her eyes that was in direct contrast to the vampires actual age. The youthful weakness quickly melted away into anger and Serana balled her fists and banged them off Horik's armour.

"Why can I never seem to get away from that bastard! Why must he haunt me until the end of my days! First, he takes my family, then my life!"

"Don't worry Serana. We'll stop him. We already have one world ending mission under us, what's one more?"

"Despite what he thought of himself, my father isn't a daedric prince. He wasn't a god!"

"Well, I have killed a god remember? Alduin? The World-Eater?"

"This is different Horik and you know it."

"All it means is that we'll have a few more things to do in order to stop him. Together Serana, there isn't anything or anyone that we can't stop."

Serana seemed to deflate for a second before she looked at Horik again. "You think so?"

"I know so. Bal didn't know all those years ago that he was making his downfall even more powerful. Now, his own power will be what destroys him. Now, come on, we're almost there."

Horik went on ahead of Serana and both were speechless when they saw the extent of the damage and destruction. Cinders were all that remained of Riverwood and all the surrounding farmland was razed and scorched. Bodies littered the ground everywhere, some in robes and others that looked like miniature armoured figurines of Molag Bal. Serana put her hands to her face in disbelief of the spectacle. It reminded her of all those years ago. The countless dead that Harkon put before his lord all in the name of power. She was happy she was dead. She'd have thrown up otherwise.

Horik had a look around the dead. Many were dressed in honour of Bal but there were others dressed in honour of another one of the lords. It looked familiar but as much as he tried, he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Serana?"

When he received only silence, Horik turned around only to see an armoured figure holding Serana by the throat, a few inches off the ground. Serana clutched at the armoured fist wrapped around her throat and tried her best to pull herself free. Horik pulled his sword from its scabbard and ran towards them. Just as he got close, the figures free hand flew out and hit Horik with a kinetic blast, launching him backwards. Horik stabbed his sword into the ground almost like a brake.

"Pitiful creature, Boeitiah take pity on your black soul."

Horik launched back into a full sprint, trying to make up the distance but time seemed to slow down as the armoured figure pulled his armoured arm back and drove it through her chest. Thankfully, she couldn't feel any pain, or cold, or heat, or anything. She was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground on her back and as her vision began to blacken and tunnel, she could only watch as Horik tried to tear through the armoured figure, only for it too to drive a dagger through its own heart. Horik dropped to a knee beside her and cradled Serana in his arms as her vision began to fade.

"Serana! No! Please! Don't leave me! I lo- "