spell books
The Blue Palace was still open to Serana's surprise. The light was shining on it just so, leaving the lavender deathbell flowers basking in the early morning glow. She resisted the urge to pick a few of them, she was never sure if guards would allow it but since the Stormcloaks have taken over she didn't want to take the chance.
Instead, she brushes her hand over them and felt the glimmers of power resting in those petals. After a turbulent youth, her mother took to teaching Serana the art of alchemy. If anything, it was a bonding experience for the both of them. No matter how torturous it was at times. But now, Serana knew how to make anything from potion to using poisons on weapons.
There were soft whispers when she slipped through the door. Upstairs, she heard Elisif talking to her steward. Serana ignored the guards prying eyes and ascended the staircase. She wasn't here for Elisif, instead she was looking for…
"It's you. What are you doing here?" Sybille, the resident mage and the only vampire reigning in Elisif's little group asks her. She stands in a pool of morning light, but her cloak and robes are enough to conceal her skin from the prying sun. Falk Firebeard stands behind her with a paler and paler looking Elisif at the throne.
Serana composes herself quickly. She knew Sybille wouldn't take well to her presence, the woman had been watching the Volkihar castle for over a decade, she was certain. And after the recent events that took it down, she was sure there would be some blame placed on her.
"Looking for books. I don't know where to go. I thought I'd ask you." Serana says with the calmest of voices.
Sybille's brow furrows, her golden eyes pierce Serana in such a way she wonders what sort of miracle kept her from father's court. He had been yearning for mages to join before his mad quest to find all the Elder Scrolls.
"Come with me, I have a little library I can show you." Sybille gives a quick glance to a fragile looking Elisif before leading Serana down the hallway.
When the shadows blanketed their forms, Sybille speaks softly. "If this is any form of an attempt at spying, know that I am well equipped to deal with you."
Serana gives her a sharp glance, "No. Of course not. I don't really care who is in the position of High King. I honestly don't think Ulfric will keep his hold on the people for long." She says nothing more on the matter. It was the truth.
"Hm. Did you fight in the war?" The vampire mage asks as she opens a nondescript door.
"No. I was hiding…I guess you could say. There were a lot of enemies at that time. It was better to wait it out." Serana says. In reality, she tried to help as much as she could. She quietly followed Vorstag and his friends around the province where they were needed in the fight against the Dragonborn. Serana knew it took a toll on him. If anyone wanted to fight in the war, it was Vorstag.
Secretly, she was glad he never went.
"There's a reason people of our state survive for so long." Sybille murmurs. Serana wishes to say more, she doesn't want this mage to think her a coward, but she's silenced by the room they enter.
Bookshelves line the darkened walls of the little room. But only a few shelves still hold some colorful tomes. "I wish I could say we have more to choose from, but after the Stormcloaks came through, we lost a lot of literature." The vampire says with a certain weariness and sadness.
Serana knew how she felt. "I did too."
"Volkihar castle?" Sybille's eyes appraise her in a new light. "I'm sure there were many treasures there."
There were, with some books so rare, no other ancient library might have them. Serana shakes off her words easily. "Yeah. But what can I do? I'll just have to get more."
"That it is. I can sell a few books here if there's any you like. But I hope you understand, some books are indispensable to this library and are not intended to be taken out of it."
Serana begins to purse over the options near her. "Depends on what I find." She hears the other vampire start picking out tomes from another shelf.
"Remind me again, what are you looking for?"
She has to be mindful of her next words, "Oh. I was looking for a book, information I guess, on a sorcerer named Mannimarco." Serana brushes her hands along some of the spines, there was a lot of dust in here.
An audible thump comes behind her. Serana spins quickly to see Sybille picking up some books scattered on the floor. "Sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you say Mannimarco?" Her tone was worrying.
Serana moves to help her, she can feel the woman's agitation as she approaches. "Yeah, just curious about him."
"Curious? That is why you want to know more about him? The man hasn't been spoken of much in centuries." Sybille snaps up her pile of books before Serana can really help. So, she just crouches awkwardly. Pondering over how much to tell the woman. Certainly, she would hate to hear that the sorcerer might be back and ravaging the continent for his bride soon.
"I. Well, it's for research. I was thinking about taking a history class and didn't know much about him." Serana lies easily. It seems to calm the other woman.
"I have nothing on him. If you want more information your best resource will come from the College of Winterhold." Sybille says easily. She puts her books away, taking care with their placement and alphabetical order.
"Do you know anything of him?" Serana asks. She doesn't really want to make the trek across the province so soon, not when she needs to search her castle again.
The silence stretches on while Serana waits for the vampire to finish straightening her books. "I was born a few years after the Warp in the West, which occurred in 3E 417 in the Iliac Bay region. My parents fled Highrock after the event took place, they wished for a better life for me. This was of course, before I exchanged my mortal life for that of the undead."
"Warp in the West?" Serana asks, she now knows she's far older than this vampire. Serana was still underground then.
"It's also referred to sometimes as the Dragon Break. In short, it was a warp in time. It allowed many different trajectories of reality to merge together. Many different political parties and important figures each successfully completed their goal in obtaining the Totem of Timber Septim. This led to major political changes in the region du to this accumulation of power. One of those included Mannimarco's ascent. He had been a powerful necromancer who had turned his sights to other ambitions. He became a Lich,"
"Wait." Serana interrupts. "Sorry, what's a Lich?"
Sybille was so wrapped up in her story she didn't seem to be annoyed. "A Lich is when a necromancer becomes the undead, thus, granting them immortal life. Their body lives, however sparingly and their mind and movements are lost. Mannimarco was thought to be the first necromancer to successfully complete this. But we have since found other liches in earlier records."
Wow. Serana was now thinking she might be over her head. "He did this during the Warp in the West?"
Sybille watches her with a steady eye, "No." Her tone dips, "The Warp in the West and the events that took place allowed Mannimarco to ascend to that of a god."
Serana freezes with those words. A god. Wonderful. But there was no way it was real. He couldn't be in the ranks of Talos and Mara. But just how powerful will this sorcerer be? "Do you know anything else about him?"
Sybille just shakes her head, "I told you, go to the College of Winterhold and find Urag gro-Shrub. He can help you further."
Serana just hopes her sudden anxiety isn't obvious. To cover her flustered state, she begins to look around at other books. Sybille follows her with a worried gaze. "Is there anything else I could help you with?"
Serana tried to keep her shaking hand from showing by brushing it over the spines again. She grabs the first book her fingers land on. "Sure, I want this."
"That? I didn't take you as one for the school of conjuration, but I should have guessed." Sybille's tone is now as bland as the muted colors of the walls. All the tension of those questions are forgotten. At least she didn't catch on to how much Serana's heart was pounding. And that was a feat, vampires could hear almost anything in a building. Serana could even hear the cooks' rattling pans and working away downstairs. There's no way this slipped Sybille's attention, but she never brought it up.
"Back so soon?" Serana thought she'd find Vorstag lounging in the bed still, but he was right there at the bar when she walked in. The bartender behind him gave her a pleasant smile. One Serana was sure to return.
"I needed to get a few books. How was your reading experience?" Serana asks as she finds a seat near Vorstag. Not right next to him, though, the man barely fit in the barstool as it was, and she preferred a bit more space than the usually crowded bar sometimes offered.
He grins at her behind his full mug of mead. "Wonderful. Although, I will say, it dragged a bit in the middle."
"You thought so? That was my favorite part." She jokes, knowing full well he hasn't read it yet. She's not sure if he truly wants to or if this is still a long running gag with him.
"I have more books to whet your appetite." She pushes the stack ahead of her, down the bar. Making sure to avoid sticky surfaces and puddles of drink. She didn't think it would be so dirty this early in the day.
Vorstag raises a brow, "Wow, look at the librarian you've become. A Dance in Fire, Book VI ah, I had forgotten about that one. I never finished Decumus Scotti's adventures. You know there's five more books before this? I only got to book three before a bandit foiled my reading attempts," He prattles on and moves the book aside to see what's below it.
"A Gentleman's Guide to Whiterun, can never read that enough, although I'm surprised it was hanging around Solitude. An Explorer's Guide to Skyrim, really, this is good material for those not familiar with this province. You might want to brush up on it some, it sounds like things have changed drastically around here since you were last awake."
He meant to say it in an offhanded way, but Serana still glanced at him. She knew he knew how old she was and how long she was underground. But she thought he had forgotten, he never treated her as older. That was one of the things to get used to as a new vampire, your elders aren't really…your elders anymore. They're wiser and older, but they're not going to shrivel up and die right before you. They'll stay as strong as you are, they'll stay as lithe and powerful as they were in their youth, they just have more experience to back it up. And that can be all the advantage someone needs.
Well, if they were in a fight. Serana is starting to think one of those tiffs might happen now based on how Vorstag is devouring the books. He keeps talking about each one as if he had an intimate bonding with it. So much so that Serana can't help herself.
"Interesting. I thought I was the librarian here."
He pauses, "Unofficial librarian. I'm the reader."
"Sure, but you know what you're talking about. Maybe you should lead me around. We need to go to the College of Winterhold after I check out the castle again."
He rubs his chin thoughtfully, "There? Are you really clamoring for more books? We have more than enough reading material for weeks here."
Serana thinks for a moment. She doesn't want to let on to what she heard from that thrall yet. She doesn't even have enough information on Mannimarco or even if he's still alive. "I want to learn more conjuration." She places the last book on the pile of six.
"My, my, that is an adept spell! Master level! Flame Thrall. I didn't take you for one for the school of conjuration." Vorstag grins and drinks the rest of his ale.
Serana just watches the book silently. She didn't really either. She knew the basic zombie spells, but after hearing about Mannimarco, a powerful necromancer, she thinks it might be good to learn some of his tricks. "I just found it and wanted to try it."
He salutes her with his mug. "I wish you luck. I once knew a man who was living near a terrible bandit encampment. Each morning, he would rise from his makeshift shelter and go scour the area for dead bodies. He would reanimate them. His goal was to keep servants with him but between you and me, I think he was just lonely. He wanted company. Every time I went through that area, I tried to give him some and I noticed he was slowly gaining new members. They had this dead look in their eyes. Quite scary to see if you weren't expecting it," He pauses for a deep breath. "One day, I made my rounds and found he had a little girl as a thrall. She followed him around like a puppy, very loyal and cheerful. It sounds like the bandits decided to kill her after her parents were gutted."
His silence spoke volumes. "Why are you telling me this?" Serana asks him, slightly horrified.
For once, he's at a loss for words, he looks down on her with an amused expression but there's some pain and longing behind it. He clears his throat, "Because that girl should have lived for a long time. The man, his name was Lorred, took good care of her. She was the first thrall I ever met who I thought was a real person. Living, breathing, and with a soul. I never knew necromancy could do that. Even if it was an illusion, I thought he gave that girl the second life she deserved." He peers down into his empty mug then shoves it across the bar.
A sudden chill brushes Serana's arms. She shivers, that, was powerful necromancy. That is something her mother used to practice all the time. She tried to reanimate the recently deceased, even to bring them back to how they once were. She was never that successful. The thralls either went mad, or their minds were never the same.
"He lives out near Morthal, if we're going to the College of Winterhold, we can talk with him if you would want." Vorstag says. She knows he wants to go see his friend, and this could be a good opportunity for her.
"Yes. I'd like to. Let me go get this spell down, I need some time to read, then we can go check out the castle before we leave." She smiles at him and begins to pack her books.
"Wait." He places a pointer finger on the first book, A Dance in Fire, Book VI, "Can I keep this one? I still need to see what happened to Decumus Scotti."
"Sure." She leaves him with the books, bids her farewell to the bartender, Corpulus, then heads up the stairs. But not before looking back at Vorstag. For once, she saw something in those depths behind his normal cheery demeanor. And now, looking at him leafing through the book, she finds he looks thoughtful. He's a good person, she thinks, he might be too good to stay with her based on what she might have to do. Reanimating the dead isn't for the faint of heart, and even though Vorstag is one of the strongest people she knows, she's not sure his kind and sometimes sensitive personality can withstand it.
Vorstag clutches another drink in his hand. He shouldn't be drinking again at this hour, what would the other patrons think of him? But his memories wouldn't allow it. He meant it when he told Serana of the girl, he never saw someone so lifelike in death. Her youthful eyes still held the same innocence she no doubt had as a six-year-old child. She still ran like one, still had the curiosity that only one of such an age can display.
He remembers the day he came upon her. He was watching her in the vast fields, ripe with midsummer heat. She was playing with the various insects she could find. Vostag couldn't hide his smile then, he remembered his own youth, as a boy traveling the province. He was always so curious. So much so, that his mothers had to warn him of touching things that might bite him.
"Back so soon?" Lorred, a creeping man with a quiet demeanor, trudged up the hill to stand next to the mercenary.
"I had to make my rounds, have the bandits caused you any troubles?" Vorstag had asked. He was truly on a mission to dispose of one of them. Aenh Ehraenson had a bounty on his head for scalping a whole village near the Hammerfell borders. His client said there were whispers he went into Hammerfell to kill there as well, leading to many unsolved missing person cases. So, now he was just hiding out with other bandits before the urge to murder came back to him. Vorstag would make sure to put him down as humanely possible.
Lorred rubbed his balding head. "Not much movement, no. Two nights ago, they killed a family of three. A woman and her husband, then this girl here." He motioned to the young, auburn haired girl racing through the grass.
Vorstag had to take pause, "She was killed?"
"Unfortunately." Lorred tried to move the sleeves of his robes a bit. For such a thin man, he always seemed to choose clothes that were too big for him. "I heard the woman screaming before they cut her, the man was already dead when I saw them. I saw them kill her too, a cut to the back. You wouldn't see the scar unless you were looking for it."
"You reanimated the parents as well?" Vorstag finally composed himself. His horror was threatening to burrow out of his chest. He was mortal at this time, before Molag Bal took him, so death only presented itself through those killed unjustly and those who needed to be hunted. His mothers used to practice necromancy with those recently deceased from disease. They never made it more than a few years, and unfortunately, they never were the same. He remembered those times clearly when the person would suddenly gain some self-awareness. They were like a Lich. His mothers were sure to kill those that presented such traits.
"No, the parents were taken by the bandits. I think they were trying to make some new hides." Lorred's voice was neutral, but Vorstag could feel the undertones of the truth. He decided then he would make these bandits pay dearly. "The girl is fine though, as you can see."
She raced up the way, right into Lorred's arms. "Papa!" She squealed then turned her gaze to Vorstag.
Her eyes, by the gods… they were blue, the sweetest of blue eyes that held so much innocence and life. "I'm safe." She had said. "Papa brought me back, he saved me." It sounded almost rehearsed. Vorstag couldn't move. This was the very thing his mothers warned him about. When a thrall became self-aware, that was when they were the most dangerous, as the necromancer had little control over them. At that point, they were considered feral.
Lorred scooped her up and began humming some tune to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder. "What's your plan with this?" Vorstag had asked in a quieter voice. He had to let Lorred know they couldn't keep her alive if she ran off. The populace of Skyrim wouldn't take well with it.
"Keep her. I want her to live again. I want her to have a better life than she did before." The necromancer kept humming to the girl.
Vorstag kept his silence. He wasn't a good enough friend with Lorred to know if he harbored fantasies of having a child of his own. He just knew he had a good heart and wouldn't hurt her. However, "You know what you have to do if she turns feral."
Lorred never stopped humming, he glanced over the girl's shoulder to Vorstag. All he did was nod.
Vorstag clutches his mug tighter, takes another drink. He wanted Serana to see that. He also wanted to know if the girl was still around, it was a few years since afterall. Three, to be exact.
"Need anything else?" Corpulus leans over the bar, breaking Vorstag from his thoughts.
"No, friend. I'm done with this. And here, have a little more for your troubles." Vorstag passes over a coin pouch filled with more septims than was necessary.
The older man with fire red hair took it a with a grateful expression. "Thank you, this means a lot. I can hopefully get more servants working here. We're understaffed enough as it is."
"I'm sure. Keep an eye on her too." Vorstag motions over his shoulder to Lisette who was just cleaning her lute in one of the corner tables.
"I will, Sorex will too." Corpulus looks back to Vorstag, "You heading off?"
The man takes another drink, pondering over how much to tell the bartender, "I am. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, but you know me, I always come back around eventually."
The bartender laughs as he wipes down the bar, "That you do! Well, safe travels then, I'll be sure to keep a mug ready with your name on it."
Instead of the usual banter that normally took place, Vorstag just smiled and nodded his goodbyes. He made sure to grab the book he barely looked at and take it upstairs with him. He did want to read it eventually, but at a calmer time when the memories didn't threaten him.
The castle didn't hold much at first glance, as they saw the day before. Vorstag let Serana wander ahead but he made sure to keep a good eye on the ashes covering the ground. He did not want to repeat yesterday's events.
Seeing Serana taken to the ground in such a manner was another memory he wished he could forget. He wouldn't have been able to bear it if he didn't get to her in time. But she seemed alright. Almost too good after a vampire attack.
Vorstag moves some of the ashes with his boot, searching the ground. As a matter of fact, he was beginning to think she wasn't as scared as she should be. It's almost like the fear came and went. It's either that she became more confident overnight, or something else had soothed her.
"Serana." Vorstag calls to her. She's on her hands and knees, searching relentlessly through the dirt on the ground. Her beautiful armor was already stained enough as it was. It was a shame to see it dirtied further.
"Yeah? See anything over there?" She looks up to him with her golden eyes. They're rimmed in some black makeup women liked to use, Vorstag didn't care much for it, but he had to admit it did bring out her eyes more.
"No. I was just curious, yesterday we ran through here so quickly, it was like you were terrified. Which I completely understand," He adds quickly, when he went on missions with those less experienced than he was in fighting, he made sure to commend them for their courage. The last thing he wanted to do was make her fear worse. "But now, you seem calmer. I just wanted to know your tricks." He smiles down on her easily.
She takes some time to rise and dust the ashes off her pants. "Yeah, about that." She pauses, he can see the wheels turning in her head, "My mother has been sending thralls. She's found a way to speak through the Soul Cairn."
"Interesting. Have they said anything?" Vorstag muses. He heard about the Soul Cairn and helped Serana go through the very portal to it. He just never knew what it was like inside.
"Not much. Not much of interest. It's why I want to find the portal to talk to my mother, she'd know." Serana shrugs. "I guess there isn't much here. Are you ready to go?" She asks Vorstag.
He pauses, thinking over their journey and who they might see along the way. "If you are, Volkihar, that's all that matters. I only carry the things on my back." He nods to her numerous bags they must take with them.
She sighs, ignoring the jab. "I bought a horse, so we'll be fine."
Serana admits, she was quite surprised when she found out Vorstag was not opposed to taking her bags by foot. She had a lot. Too much. She just found so many herbs and soul gems in Solitude, along with her books. They needed someone to help carry them and what better way than a horse?
She bought him at the stables, a white and black spotted stallion. He was beautiful and she felt he shouldn't be relegated to baggage carrier his whole life. She figures she can sell him once they get to the College.
All the bags strapped to him makes him look so cumbersome, but she knows the weight combined is still much less than two people would be.
"Careful here, this is where the marsh begins." Vorstag warns. He was feet ahead of them, scouting out the terrain so the horse could walk alright. Serana stayed next to him, she held his reins and pulled softly to lead him on.
"Do you have a name for him?" Vorstag asks.
Serana blinks. "I hadn't thought of one, I figured if we were only borrowing him, then we might as well let someone else name him."
The mercenary gives her a conspiring look. "Everyone needs a name, even we are with him for a short time."
Serana doesn't have much to say to that. She just stares out at the land. It's dark here. The sky was still alight with the afternoon sun, but the heavy clouds made it less prominent. The trees reached for the sky, exposing their roots among the little soil here. Water ran through the dense underbrush. She heard the whispers here, some say that vampires, not father's vampires, were hiding in the marsh. Below the ice and water to wait for some poor passerby.
"How about Phantom?" He pesters her. She tears her eyes away from the deepening water to shake her head. "Hm, tough crowd, what about Cookie? I like Cookie." Vorstag keeps talking.
Serana's brow furrows, "Cookie? I'd rather we name him something more…extravagant. How about Opal?"
"Interesting, interesting, is it because he shines like one?"
Serana sighs, "Of course…"
Her words are cut short when the newly named, Opal rears up. Serana grasps for the reins, trying frantically to calm him. Then she sees it.
A pale hand emerges from the ground, snaking around the horse's back hoof before pulling. "No! Get out." She flings and ice spike at it. The horse rears again and backs up, Serana lets go of the reins knowing there really isn't anything she can do. He races off in the marsh.
Heavy breathing alerts her, she feels Vorstag at her side with his blade drawn. "We need to get him." She says.
"He'll be fine, he'll stop running when the danger isn't here anymore." Vorstag murmurs, she follows his eyes and gasps.
Rising from the marsh are countless bodies. Vampires. Maybe fifteen in all. They don't look alright. Their skin is peeling, their eyes are bloodshot or yellow tinged, some skin is gangrenous. They look more like zombies than something she would call her kin.
"We don't mean any harm…" She starts.
They aren't civilized. Father used to speak of people like these, he thought anyone who acquired vampirism outside of the Volkihar bloodline was tainted. People to shun. Serana always saw his rants as self-righteous and simple minded.
Her opinion might have changed if she met these vampires first. The first three finally reached shore, one barely had a foot hanging on, it dragged behind his leg showing the bone had been broken for a long time.
"They can't be fast." Serana whispers, she lights her hands up with ice spells, ready to send them forth.
"You would be surprised," Vorstag replies. He was about to say more but they descended.
Five, ten, fifteen. All the vampires with their weakening and green tinted skin came racing forth. Serana screamed at the sight, when one barreled into her she could feel its flesh softening at her touch, as if just pushing on it would break it through. They were diseased. She doesn't know why or how, but they smelled horrible.
The stench was rotting flesh. She pushes it before hit can get closer to her, its fangs are elongated and eyes completely devoid of anything but hunger. She sends a few ice spikes through his chest. He goes down but not before she's swarmed again.
They were pulling her hair, tearing at her clothing, doing anything they could to get that precious blood. But little did they know that Serana had none of it. Vampires don't feed from each other. They have to get it from humans or animals if they were desperate enough.
"Serana!" Vorstag yells over the fray of moans and snarls.
She has an idea. The vampires were pulling her down and it was hard not to struggle frantically. She calms herself, looking for anything, a bird, a rabbit, whatever animal around she could draw blood from. It would lead them away from her.
But there was nothing.
A vampire sinks her fangs into her back. Serana screams. She was throwing as many ice spikes as she could, even resorted to using her vampiric drain, but it never worked that well on the undead. She did have one trick, though.
They kept pulling her along the ground. She could feel the mud getting wetter, feel her skin sinking into the earth before they drag her into the water. The fangs and claws were receding. By the gods, they were taking her away somewhere. She doesn't think. Closes her mind down and only keeps in her mind those words written. The ones she studied before.
It was a fairly simple spell from the look of it, but once the caster looked into the deeper meaning they found it was harder to cast. Serana didn't even dare try before. She thought her power was too weak, far too weak at the time, but she has no choice now.
Her hand lights up with the call of the Soul Cairn, at least that's what she thinks it is. She never knew where this cursed magic came from. Her hand felt colder than ever with the purple light absorbing it. She grits her teeth as she calls it.
Calling into the void and bringing someone out was harder than she thought it would be. When reanimating the dead, you are bringing their soul's back temporarily, but this. This is calling a new body into the world.
The landscape spins, it doesn't help that she's being dragged through the mud and can't keep her head out of the water anymore. It doesn't help that the vampires are clawing and nearly breaking her bones with every move.
But it helps when she appears.
She's beautiful. Serana used to play with spriggans as a child, only after they were tamed, and she thought them to be the most beautiful creatures around. Their bodies were made of forest bark wrapping around them along with ivy. In between, a green and yellow glow would show their life force. Every time Serana walked among them she felt that they were one with nature.
This creature was different. Her body is wrapped in fire, the only substantial part of her are the black scales that line her body, showing her form and keeping her together. But that fire. It blazed to life when she saw the vampires attacking Serana.
She has little time to duck when the first firebolt comes her way. An inhuman scream sounds above her. She can feel the creature's claws digging into her back before being launched off her. Serana can't do anything but clench her jaw to keep the tears at bay. Gods, that hurt.
She keeps her head to the ground when she hears the rest. Scream after scream sounds with the growing flames. Serana can hear them whooshing above her head before making impact. Rough hands grab her by the arms and pull.
She screams. "Get away you freak!" Ice was now pouring from her hands, ready to take down her captor.
"It's me! I need to get you out of here before she burns you alive!" Vorstag yells, he pulls her up. But she can barely stand. The pain in her back is too much.
"Here." Vorstag picks her up, so she is cradled in his arms. The injured part of her back is centered between them, so it doesn't hurt as much. Serana barely any time to register how gently he is holding her. Vorstag runs.
They gave chase. She could hear them close on their heels. Decaying things that were too fast for what their bodies showed. How looks could be deceiving. But through the wind whipping in her hair, Serana lifts her head from Vorstag's shoulder to see the inferno behind her.
The marsh was on fire. Yellow and orange blazes burned through the drying grass. Some of it even laid on the water, Serana was puzzled over this for a second, until she saw the body burning up in the shallow waves.
Vorstag kept running. Serana kept watching. As the marsh receded from view, she saw her. Her savior. Emerging from the inferno. The Flame Atronach followed.
Opal wasn't far off, as Vorstag had guessed. He stopped his running, Serana was still in his arms, such a sturdy and light woman. He could feel her musculature through her clothing. This woman was not weak. She had just fallen asleep, they had been running for quite some time but he was more worried it was because of the wounds.
A strong woman, decent in battle, that's who she is. But those cannibalistic vampires took her down. Vorstag was even having a rough time with them. They kept going for his neck. It was hard to keep them away, especially with their tactics. At first, he thought they were slow, even in battle they kept their distance. But when he let his guard down, even for a moment, was when they struck.
He lays down Serana next to Opal who was just grazing on some nearby grass. The vampire girl in his arms moans when she feels the solid ground. He doesn't say anything, just pulls out one of the numerous healing potions at his disposal. "Drink." He pushes it to her lips.
She starts, slowly. Her eyes are scrunched up in pain, pain he knew too well. Then, her eyes peeked opened.
He felt it before she saw it. The heat at his back. He spins, fast enough to catch the creature before it would race off or attack. A sharp dagger held in his right hand.
The Flame Atronach just hovers there. Her hollow but bright eyes locked on the two of them. Even thought flames dance on her body, he sees there aren't any held in her hands.
"She saved me." Serana says with a hoarse voice.
Vorstag doesn't loosen his grip on his blade not yet, "They can turn on you."
"No, they can't. They follow their master." She objects.
Vorstag runs his tongue over his fangs, thinking. "That is what those scholars might say, but my mothers were different. Some dealt in conjuration, for a brief season. It didn't end well. Creatures such as these can turn against you."
"I don't care, she saved me. She should stay."
He wishes to tell her that he saved her as well. He carried her out here and gave her potion. He just looks over his shoulder to her. "How permanent is the spell?"
"She stays until I will her away." Serana gives a slight smile through the pain.
Vorstag nods slowly and puts his dagger away. "Alright, looks like we have another in our company for some time. Too bad she has flames at her disposal, otherwise I'd have her carrying some of the load."
Serana laughs, the sound like tinkling bells. Something untightens in Vorstag's chest. She's laughing, that means she is not in as much pain as she once was. And she will heal.
They were just cresting the same hill that Vorstag walked three years go. Last time he was here, he noticed he had a clear view of the bandit towers. Now, big holes broke into the rock formations, pulling the towers to the ground. Probably from a dragon attack. That's the reason most buildings were losing their structural integrity nowadays. At least he couldn't see anyone skulking about there. He didn't feel like bandit hunting at the moment.
"I'm not sure. I can't think of any good name for her right now." Serana says behind him. He twists and looks over Opal's head to see Serana sitting on the saddle, lost in thought. He bandaged her up the best he could, and figured blood and time were what she needed. Further behind them, the Flame Atronach trailed. Fire lit the fields up in its glow, burning some of the underbrush where she hovered, but no larger blazes burned. Her eyes were geared straight ahead. Straight on Serana.
This gave Vorstag an uneasy feeling at first. But he knows from his time with his mothers, the creature was only looking to serve her master.
"Jolly?" He tries.
Serana shakes her head, "Eve named her dog that. I don't want a repeat name."
"Star? Sun?" Vorstag wasn't the best with names.
"I don't know…" Serana trails off. Vorstag notices it when she does. A scratching noise in the belly of the nearby forest.
This was where Lorred had his encampment. At the time, he only had two tents. Now, Vorstag isn't certain.
Opal stops. The horse just dead stops in his tracks. Vorstag nearly snaps the reigns he was carrying with the force of it. His eyes scour the mossy ground. That sound is louder. Something they might not want to fight. A bright flame becomes his companion as he notices the Flame Atronach to his right. She stares straight ahead, those daedric eyes on the forest before them. Her hands begin filling with flames.
Vorstag only has time to pull his short sword, not his axe at his back. The rustling was growing. He was preparing to give Opal a harsh command, just one, and the horse would race off with Serana for cover. But then it happened.
The girl burst forth from the underbrush. She is as beautiful as the day he first saw her, hair glittering in the bright sun above, eyes as sweet and innocent as he remembered. She races straight for him. All his instincts say to keep his weapon raised but in the presence of this immortal child, he drops his sword.
She leaps and wraps her arms around his neck. "Vorstag!" She squeals, kicking her feet at his chest. He wraps his arms around her, the hair on the back of his neck still at attention. "Is that?" Serana starts.
The rustling never stopped. It only grew distant. Another figure emerges and it takes everything in Vorstag not to pry the sweet girl from his neck. Emerging from the forest is a very different sort of thrall. A Nord woman, girl even, not even past her adolescence. Blond, straight corn colored hair. Tall, gangly limbs. Eyes like the rich tree bark surrounding them. It was the tearing flesh and the gangrenous smell that made Vorstag fear.
That, and the dark glimmer in her eyes. Her hands were kept at her side, but she only moves one to wipe away a piece of rotting flesh from her brow. It comes off clean.
Vorstag's terror is now threatening to choke him. This was no normal thrall. Lorred, in the past few years has gone from merely curious to downright irresponsible. The girl before him was a Lich.