entrance exam
"What is it?" Serana leans further forwards in the saddle. Her back still hurt, making her wince. But it wouldn't keep her from looking at the woman before them.
Vorstag seemed to be struggling with the girl wrapped around his neck. The Flame Atronach, who they had not yet named, was still pulling on her power. The woman before them had paused, her flesh still falling from her face. Just the forehead at this instant. Serana knew this girl's skin probably used to be as pale and unblemished as her own. Now, it was a ghastly grey showing pieces rotting from her.
"Vorstag, Vorstag! You came back!" The girl squeals and unlatches her grip from the mercenary. He sets her down gently. Serana notices the tightness in his back. She thinks if he knew the girl would run back to the rotting woman, he would not have let her go.
She is scooped up by the zombie looking thing. Nuzzles her nose against the older girl's. At least that wasn't falling off, Serana notes.
"Vorstag? I haven't seen you in a while." Another figure emerges from the forest. An older, balding man with bright amber eyes and a soft smile greets them. His impossibly long robes catch in the grass as he sifts his way towards them.
"You made a Lich." Vorstag says as greeting.
Serana's hands freeze, just petting Opal's hair back. A Lich. That is what they said Mannimarco became.
Lorred pauses next to the two girls, he rubs a hand over his head. "Yes. Yes, Vorstag, I've grown quite strong as you can see."
The older girl just turns and takes the younger one away. Before disappearing into the forest, the smaller one sends a bright smile Serana's way. "I like your pony!" She squeals.
That must be the thrall, Serana muses. She slowly pulls herself down from the horse to greet the necromancer.
"And what do I owe the pleasure?" Lorred looks to and from Vorstag and Serana, before his eyes linger on the Atronach.
"Just passing through," Serana begins when she sees Vorstag's words have failed him. She just notices he won't tear his gaze away from that forest. "I'm interested in conjuration and necromancy. Vorstag said you might have some advice?"
Lorred flinches and pulls his eyes away from the Atronach. His slow smile is cat-like. More like a serpent, Serana decides. "You've come to the right place. Please, let me offer you room and food, follow me."
Vorstag clutches his mug, a rusting silver thing, tightly in his hands. He doesn't want the others to see his trembling. The camp was more than that now, there was a whole city of tents here with fires dotting the clearings. The sounds of numerous conversations filled the night covered forests. Not all from mortal lips. The only mortal here was Lorred.
He's more animated than Vorstag last saw of him. He sits on his rock, with his arms over his knees paying great attention to Serana. Vorstag barely paid attention to their conversation, something about the basics of conjuration and the right spell books.
He has to keep from looking over his shoulder where the Lich was. He can feel her breath on his neck, at least that's what he tells himself. He knows she's right behind him and that was far too close for comfort.
One of his mother's, Sotur, spoke to him once about the Liches. The process of turning was hard. They were told to drain the life energy of another then redirect it back to their body. This takes much strength. So much so that their death occurs soon after the transfer, then, they rise.
A Lich is dangerous because they are without masters. They are the undead that necromancers seek to control, but they control themselves. Sotur whispered to him that day, since the other women didn't want to hear of these tales, that a Lich is unpredictable and powerful. The final piece of the puzzle for staying alive and undead, is to be a master in the dark arts. The woman behind Vorstag no doubt had enough knowledge to kill them where they stand.
Good thing he wasn't mortal anymore.
As if hearing his thoughts, Lorred turns his attention to him. "Vorstag. I noticed your own change. I've been dying to hear what happened." He rests his chin on a fist, eyes glowing with excitement.
It is a chore not to focus on the sounds of the forest. How the nearby conversations halted. As if they were listening in.
Vorstag clears his throat, "I was taken by Molag Bal as his Champion after I was killed. I was kept in his realm, Coldharbour for…I don't even know how long. All I know is I woke up in the bottom of Volkihar Castle and was given back my free-will."
Lorred was positively glowing. "And, and you never heard back from our Lord Molag Bal?"
Vorstag shrugs, he wondered this sometimes and thought about asking Eve to ask the Lord of Enslavement himself. But the vampire woman wanted nothing to do with him. She was adamant she would break her own bond with him. "No. I haven't heard a lick of him since. In truth, I never spoke to him much, that I remember. He only commanded me. He taught me how to fight in this form." He holds his hands out to show off his new body.
Lorred rises and walks over to Vorstag, all to take his hands in his impossibly cold ones. "What a gift. What a treasure. I have done the same for some of my own." He jerks his head to the deeper part of the forest. "Back there, I have made another Lich. The rest are thralls from that bandit encampment. After a dragon attack, they started encroaching on my territory so I thought I would give them the choice."
"And that was?" Vorstag asks, wishing to pull his hands away from the necromancer's strangely icy ones.
"Either live and accept the gift of the Lich. Or die and be enthralled back to life." He gives an easy smile, not at all concerned with how…wrong that was.
Vorstag eyes Serana, she's listening but has her gaze elsewhere. Centered on the little girl now twirling in the mud. "How long do they live?" She asks.
Lorred pulls his hands away and spins around like a top. He was always an eccentric one. "Forever! Forever and ever if they wish. If they're good at what they do. Surviving."
Serana opens her mouth but Lorred stops her. "I have spell books I can give you. Many of them. But first, I want to show you two something."
A pit forms in Vorstag's stomach, he doesn't like the man's tone. "Sure. Just tell me, Lorred, how many of them lost control? Became feral."
The man only rubs his balding head in a circular motion. Over and over again while avoiding eye contact. "Some. Not many. Not many at all. They were all dealt with."
Vorstag stands, feeling the Lich moving behind him. As if mirroring his movements. He checks over his shoulder and finds the Flame Atronach where they left her. In the clearing, where she can't burn anything precious. He knows she will not hesitate to defend them if something were to occur.
"Let's go see this surprise." He muses after downing the rest of his drink. The alcohol wasn't good at all. It was quite dismal. But it was something.
Serana glances around at the forest. The canopy is so high, she has to resist the urge to crane her neck for any thralls hiding in the trees. Based on the trunks moving in the unfelt wind, there were some up there already.
They wove a path through the forest. Passing tent after tent. People laying about the ground or tending to a fire raised their heads as they passed. Most were older people, former bandits. They all had a vacant look in their eyes. Only following commands. Vorstag was right, only the girl whose hand Serana was holding seemed to be the only conscious thrall here. Her and the Lich.
The woman followed behind at a safe distance, as if she felt their apprehension. Serana didn't care much if she was about, but Vorstag was always tensing. Always flicking his hand for his sword. No fight ever came.
Lorred seemed to be in control. Even though he was extremely flustered. He pulled his robes up like a woman would in a large dress and skipped down the path. "Oh, forgive my bad manners! This is Horwe, my other Lich." He lays a hand on a passing man. He was in bandit armor, had a long blonde beard that was in desperate need of a trimming. His gaze tracked theirs and he decided to follow them too.
He has that ghastly grey coloring and skin peeling from his cheek. Maybe he shouldn't trim his beard, Serana decides. She lets the man follow behind her with the other Lich. Vorstag already fell back to defend her.
"Watch them." He whispers.
She shrugs, "I can deal with them if I have to."
She didn't ask Lorred what their weakness was. After mentioning their peeling skin, and seeing his horrified reaction to such a question, she decides it would be impolite to ask. They were like his own children.
The next clearing showed two thralls tending to a coffin looking structure. When they near, Serana is certain it can't be anything but. The tomb was moss covered and the scrawling designs on it were of the ancient Nords.
"This. This is my next project." Lorred purrs. He moves his hand over the lid, pulling the thing off and Serana has to keep from yelping. Inside, just resting, was none other than a Dragon Priest.
"By the gods." Vorstag breathes.
"Pretty isn't he? I found him not far from here, I had the thralls bring him in. He should be in a dungeon, that is how they get their power, from worshippers. It's why I have thralls here day and night to tend to him. In a few days. That's when I resurrect him." Lorred smiles down onto the corpse.
"You know, they're considered to be Liches too. The strongest of them all." He murmurs.
Serana wishes to ask more of them. But Vorstag just turns with fury written all over his face. "Lorred. Do you know how irresponsible this is? Resurrecting a Dragon Priest? He'll kill anyone in a hundred-mile radius!"
Lorred doesn't cringe back from his harsh tone, he only nods excitedly. "Of course, I get more room to build my people. My city."
This stops Vorstag dead in his tracks. "What? What are you doing Lorred?" He growls.
The man doesn't feel the dangerous undertones of his voice, "What I have to do. No one wants necromancers around. We are nothing but…outcasts. The cities won't take us. Windhelm used to be promising, if you can avoid the most prejudiced but after Ulfric's victory that's gone. The College isn't helping either. They frown against those like us." His eyes slide to Serana as if in warning to how people might treat her.
Little does he know she's used to that kind of treatment. After rising from those dungeons with the Scroll she found herself nothing more than a pawn and outcast to her own family. This wasn't much different.
Lorred continues, "This will be a city. A city of thralls. Liches. Whoever I might be able to conjure and bring back from Oblivion." He smiles then falters. "Why are you looking at me like that? You should be happy!"
Vorstag just keeps his jaw set. He seems so distressed. Serana wishes to lay a hand on his shoulder. Instead of fighting, Vorstag just walks off into the forest. "I need some time. To think." He calls back in a strained voice.
Serana lets him go. This was not the best time. "Lorred." She starts, glancing back at the two Liches on the edge of the forest. They were whispering to each other and never tore their eyes off the path Vorstag took.
The man's frantic eyes find hers. "Yes, what do you think of this? This plan? It's perfect, there's no way it could fail."
Serana almost stutters, she composes herself and thinks over her words before saying them. "I think it will work, Lorred. It's not why I'm here though. I wanted to ask about Mannimarco. If you knew anything of him?"
The man pauses, his eyes widen. "Mannimarco. The first Lich. He ascended to godhood long ago. What of him?"
"Is he still around? How powerful was he?" Those desperate questions come plunging forth.
Lorred watches her with a new interest. "He was an adept student and an ambitious man. Very, very ambitious. There is no other figure worthy of such respect. You do not know of his history, do you?" He gives a slight smile.
Serana shakes her head. She would sit, but she wants the answers now. Wants to give into her instincts and flee this terrible place. She knew thralls and Liches were not all bad but there was some sort of energy here. It wasn't good and she is starting to suspect it's coming from that very coffin.
Lorred fires off, "Mannimarco, after establishing the Cult of Black Worm in the Dragontail Mountains had set his sights to join the ranks of the gods of Oblivion. He became embroiled in court politics of Iliac Bay and came into the contact with an agent of the Blades. During this time, he foresaw the return of the Mantella from it's hiding place in Aetherius. He promised this agent he would bring the Totem and return the Mantella to Nirn."
Lorred pauses when a distinct cry comes from the forest, soon after, a scurrying sound approaches. A shadow moves in the trees before disappearing. "Forgive them. They are antsy. Anyways. These plans were derailed on the 10th of Frostfall, 3E 417 when the Warp of the West occurred. During this time, many factions were attempting to gain the Totem of Timber Septim. This resulted in the distortion of time where all factions simultaneously gained possession. They all achieved their goals. One of these factions was Mannimarco, who soon after, completed his apotheosis, resulting in the creation of the Necromancer's Moon. Now, necromancers consider him a god and pray to his altars strewn about Tamriel. Offering souls to darken soul gems, giving them a new sort of power."
Serana takes in all this information, so much information. So much she had missed being underground. "I…wow. He's up above now? He's hovering over us as we speak?"
"You could say so." Lorred gives her an easy smile.
She shivers. Right now, the man betrothed to her by her father could be watching her every move. Waiting, for when she was most vulnerable to show up. "Can he…go back into his mortal body?"
"He is now a god so I can't see why not." Lorred snaps his eyes to the dark forest behind them where a keen wailing sound was just starting. "Forgive me, I can have time to talk more on Mannimarco later and your studies. I must…attend to this altercation." He picks up his robes to wander over to the sound. Leaving Serana to look down on the corpse of the Dragon Priest, wondering just how this Mannimarco will present himself. And more importantly, what kind of bargain her father struck.
There was no more talk of Mannimarco, or anything that concerns necromancy. Lorred was staunchly embroiled in a fight between the thralls. Something over food, as it always was with animals. Serana guessed they weren't much different from the beasts that roam on all fours.
Instead, she tried to sleep. Tried to get some shut eye in one of the numerous tents. She could see the warm glow of her Flame Atronach outside. She was just wondering what to name her when she drifted to sleep.
And was promptly woken with a hand to her mouth. She resists the urge to scream and rolls over, with a dagger in her left hand and an ice spike forming in her right.
"Shh. It's me." Vorstag whispers. His kind eyes find hers in the lightening darkness. She moves back so his large hand falls away.
"What is it?"
He jerks his head to the forest, "That thing out there. That corpse. We need to dispose of it." He whispers, so quietly she can barely hear him. She wonders how much the Liches can hear.
"Why?" She has to ask.
"Lorred isn't the man I knew, he's gone insane." Those words were too important to be whispered so but they couldn't risk their voices carrying.
"Why not talk to him?"
He shakes his head, "I tried. He won't listen. We need to dispose of that thing before he resurrects it. If he did…" His eyes find hers again with potent fear in them.
She understands. She hasn't come across a Dragon Priest before but based on what she has heard, to let it go out in the world would be devastating to any nearby villages.
"How do we do it?"
"Follow me." Vorstag grabs her hand to pull her from the tent.
They wade through the moss and crusty dirt as silently as possible. Not a soul stirred in these early morning hours. All the fires were long past extinguished. She was actually surprised no one was keeping guard.
The clearing was up ahead, right where that coffin would be when a small hand slipped into her free one.
"Where are you going?" The girl asks.
Serana flinches. "Nowhere. Go to bed." She whispers.
The girl doesn't lower her voice. "No. I'm not tired. I want to pet the pony." She tightens her hand.
Vorstag gives Serana a stern look. They were just weaving through the numerous tents, where all thralls and possibly the Liches, slept.
Serana nods to the girl. "Keep quiet and I will."
That shuts her up. The girl is content to stare off into the forests, as long as her hand stays in Serana's.
They break into the clearing. Only birds sing, the wind blows the tops of the trees. In the center, the resting coffin is unattended, waiting for its master. "Could you do something for me? Let go and go back to bed for one hour? Then we see the pony?" Serana asks the girl kindly, knowing there's no other way to get her out of here.
She just stamps her little foot on the ground. "I want to see it now!" She squeals. This thrall certainly had awareness and hadn't moved past her turning age in intelligence.
Serana puts a finger to her lips. "Shh, shh. One second." She turns to Vorstag. "What…"
Her voice dies with Vorstag's raised double swords. Behind it, floating above the coffin is the skeletal figure of the Dragon Priest. They have a second to size each other up, then the first blast comes their way. Serana leaps and rolls, holding the little girl in her arms and shielding her from the worst of the effects. It was that power. The Dragon shout that the Dragonborn used to use so much.
The girl screams, Serana turns with an ice spike blazing in her hand. She flings it in time before the Dragon Priest sends another wave at Vorstag. He moves, twisting and turning with a blade in each hand to slice at the Dragon Priest. Serana shoves the girl behind her and snipes the Priest with all the ice spikes she can.
How did it come back to life? Lorred was supposed to do this days from now. Days. Something must have happened in their slumber.
As if carried by the wind, the words came and went from her mind. Serana has to blink, pause between blasts of power to make sure she caught it.
Anything for you. You called and I answered.
She couldn't tell if the voice was masculine or feminine, it was just words. Like thoughts in her head. She keeps flinging all the power she can into the Priest, who was dealing stronger and stronger blows at Vorstag. The mercenary has his teeth clenched. Serana watches the creature. If he had a beating heart, she could rip his throat out. Instead…
She calls the vampiric drain power she almost never uses. She doesn't wish to, it felt like cheating sometimes. But now, it was perfect. The spell of red tendrils casts its net on the Priest. He screams with it. Serana can feel his life force just floating across the way to her. She is absorbing it. Feeling it. This creature is strong. Too strong.
"Vorstag!" She yells, wishing to tell them they had to leave now. This creature is way too strong.
The blast hits her like a wall. She goes flying over the clearing to smack into a tree, the thing is rattling, as if shaken to its roots. Her bones, all of them almost, are broken. She crawls across the way, seeing that Dragon Priest peering over the head of the girl with innocent eyes. She does nothing but stare it down.
"Vorstag." Serana groans as her bones mend. She won't get there soon enough. Not in time to save the girl.
Fire flies over her, sails across the clearing and setting the world into a new light. The sun was just rising, bringing on the dawn of a new day along with this firebolt. It flies right to the Dragon Priest, who turns his attention from the innocent thrall to the Flame Atronach.
Dawn. That is what she will name her, Serana decides. She breaks out into a grin as she pulls herself to her knees, then crawls until she can stand. All to race over and snatch the girl from the oncoming firebolts.
"Get to cover!" Vorstag yells over the fray. He was just wielding his blades so they were inches from the overwhelmed Dragon Priest.
Serana backs up and up, holding the girl in her arms. She needed to help, but she didn't want to endanger the girl further. Instead, she smacks into something rough. Something towering and unpleasant smelling. She looks up just in time to see the grim face of the Lich.
Vorstag almost had the damn thing in the ground. That is, until the Flame Atronach came in. The firebolts were hard to work around but they did distract the villain from Serana. Vorstag dips and swerves, avoiding each blow and giving one of his own. It's not until he hears the high-pitched scream that he realizes there is a different fight in this clearing.
He spares only one glance over the Dragon Priest's head to see Serana in combat with the male Lich. He is advancing on her with a sword drawn, skin peeling with each ice spike she sends his way. Serana keeps backing up with the screaming girl behind her.
He grits his teeth again. Wonders if the Flame Atronach can handle the Priest while he saves Serana and the girl. Instead, another blow hits him right in the stomach. He loses all breath and his footing, falling to the ground.
Blow after blow, wave after wave, of air comes smacking into him. Breaking his bones over and over again. He roars with the assault and pulls on all his strength to stand. Bones still broken, but instantly healing, he pulls himself up from that hole and up on the coffin. He flings his blade right through the neck of the creature. That should do it, please gods, let that be it.
The sword lands home, sticking out the neck on either end. The Priest stares him down and raises his hands again. Vorstag's heart was just sinking when another firebolt comes sailing and engulfs the Dragon Priest's head.
He didn't know what would happen when it died. Just that it would, well, be dead. He wasn't anticipating the blast. The body explodes, sending shards of power through the clearing, enough to make the forest shiver.
Vorstag goes sailing feet away, he's lucky enough to have the momentum to roll. But that was perfect because the Lich was just going for Serana again. Vorstag twists, just so he can send his other blade right to the man. However, he sees the crafty woman already beat him. An ice spike sticks right through the mans' eyes. He wavers in place.
"Good job." Vorstag says and scrambles over to Serana, anticipating the resounding thump of the body. Instead, the Lich keeps coming.
"I don't know how to kill him." Serana keeps shoving the girl behind her.
"You can't. Not really." Lorred says from behind them. Vorstag turns, his heart in his chest, to see his former friend watching them with an amused expression. "Liches are nearly unkillable. They have one weakness, just one, it's why people like the greatest necromancer ascend. As a god they are unkillable."
Vorstag takes in this information. Wondering, if the man before him is wanting to do the unthinkable. Apotheosis. Only a few select people have made that ascent and succeeded. He readies his sword, but the man only raises his hand.
"I don't want to fight. I don't wish any harm and I would rather you just leave right now." His eyes are earnest. "Horwe, come." The Lich, with ice spikes still riddling his person slowly walks over to Lorred.
The necromancer tsks. "Crafty people. If I were none the wiser, I'd say you were bandits." He begins melting each ice spike with a hand of flames.
"They killed the Priest." Horwe groans. It's almost like his vocal chords were rotting already.
Lorred sighs dramatically. "I know. I know. Now I have to find another one."
"Stop this." Vorstag pleads. "I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want another Dragon Priest on the loose. Just let it go. Live here with this camp and stop trying to hurt others."
Lorred looks up from his task. "What would you pay me?"
Vorstag nearly balks. Out of all the years he knew the man, he never knew him to be greedy. "Five hundred septims, is that to your liking?"
Lorred pretends to mull it over. "Yes. That, and you promised my dear Petunia a ride on the pony."
The girl squeals in excitement. Vorstag finds Serana's gaze over the clearing. She seems as confused as he felt. But if he didn't have to kill another friend today, he considers it a good day.
Dawn, the Flame Atronach, is hovering at Serana's side. The flames lick her skin and clothing as she sets the small girl on the horse. Petunia loved it. Her face filled with so much joy and amazement as she dug her hands into the soft mane that Serana almost believed it. That this girl was nothing but an innocent creature brought back to life. What she saw in that clearing was far different. She has no doubt this girl screamed for Lorred and watched the Dragon Priest, only to turn his attention back to Serana. She didn't exactly help the vampires in there.
But Serana couldn't stomach her getting hurt. It was the principle of the thing.
"Where are you riding off to?" Lorred asks behind her. Vorstag at his side and the woman Lich. She hasn't stopped glaring at Serana, not once, since they left that forest.
"Not sure." Vorstag lies easily. "Wherever the wind blows us."
"I want a pony." The girl demands.
Lorred rubs his head, "We'll get you one, I haven't tried my hand at raising animals yet."
"It's easier than all this, trust me." Vorstag claps the man on the back. "We're going to be off. I'm assuming our bargain will remain?"
Lorred gives him a pained smile, "…yes. I will not wish ill will on the living surrounding this area. And you, will leave this camp alone."
Vorstag nods, approaching Serana and pulling the reluctant girl from the reigns. She squeals. "Sorry but we can't dally around here. We must be going." He pulls himself on the saddle and motions for Serana to do the same.
She pauses. She hasn't ridden with him like this before, only once but that was at the height of the Dragonborn's reign. She doesn't have time to think it over, though, she grabs his waiting hand and pulls herself up on Opal. Dawn burned behind them, Serana could swear she was glaring at Lorred as much as the Lich was glaring at them.
"Good luck…" Lorred scoops the girl up, kisses her cheek, and watches the two of them. "Remember what I told you, Serana, use all the basic books first. And, oh, yes, I remember now. The apotheosis was a blessing. A difficulty but the man was strong willed. It's why he made it over to the other side."
Serana just nods and Vorstag pulls the reigns, taking them away from this cursed place. "Don't force me to step foot on this hill again." He warns Lorred.
The man nods still surrounded by the dead. "I will abide by that, Champion of Molag Bal."
They were silent for some time. She didn't really feel like talking and neither did he. It wasn't until mid-day when they took a break for sustenance that they spoke. "I didn't know it would be like that, I'm sorry." Vorstag tells her.
Serana licks her lips. The travelers nearby were as appetizing as one would think. They had poor choice of food and even less water in their system, so their blood was…muddy. Gross. But they needed it. The travelers now slept soundly and would awake none the wiser that two puncture wounds had just healed on their necks.
"It's alright. Do you think that he'll listen?"
Vorstag shrugs, tension radiating from him. She watches with softening eyes, pondering over whether to tell him. She forgot how kind he was. How good he was and what lengths he would go to protect her. She doesn't want to subject him to whatever trap her father set up for her.
"We'll see. I just puzzle over his last words. Apotheosis. What was that about?" His golden gaze finds hers.
She takes a deep breath. They were only a day from Winterhold now. She could take Opal by herself and had Dawn to defend her if there were any bandits. Come to think of it, it might be best to let Vorstag go. He could go monitor the situation with Lorred and keep any more monsters from unleashing.
"About that. I got a message from my mother. My father has done something, he struck a bargain before I was brought out from my slumber. I need to find her to talk about it. I don't want you to come along if you don't want to. It might get…dangerous."
He raises an eyebrow, from his lounged position, laying back on his forearms he almost looked relaxed. "Go on. What was this bargain?"
She sighs and lets it out in one breath. "I don't know. I won't know until I talk to her. All I know is my father arranged my marriage with Mannimarco. The necromancer turned god. Her thralls said to watch out for him, that he'll be back for me."
She could have said she wished to sever her own head and replace it with a melon that could talk, and it would have been less shocking. Vorstag just stares at her openmouthed. "Mannimarco? What use would he have of a bride?"
She shakes her head, "I don't know. I don't know anything about him. That's another reason why I need into the College. I want to learn more magic." She stares down at her bare hands. Thought of the power she could wield already. "I need to know more, if he's coming back. I don't want this." She admits. Her father dictated her life for so long. Forced the vampire change on her. Even though she appreciates her new form and wouldn't want anything else, her life was never her own. And the last thing she wanted to do was marry a stranger.
The sound of rustling weapons and muffled boots comes to her. She snaps her head up as Vorstag lays a hand on her shoulder. "We better get going then and get you to that College."
"You're leaving?" She asks. Hoping he will but a small part of her wishing he would stay.
His answering smile is as sunny as ever. "Never. I've never met someone as powerful as Mannimarco, save for the Dragonborn I guess, and Molag Bal. I am oh so curious what he's like."
"But what about the danger? The risk…the waiting." Serana stares at him. She wasn't expecting this.
The vampire squeezes her shoulder. "I've been living in danger my whole life and that library is going to hold a lot of books to read in the meantime. I wanted to see what other titles the author of Lusty Argonian Maid might have laying around."
She laughs her shock away and promptly helps him get their gear ready. "I'm not sure if they'll have those kinds of books there but we can check."
He just pulls her up in front of him on the saddle. She feels his strong arms settle around her waist before pulling the reigns. His breath tickles he neck, when Opal sets off. "Even librarians have dirty minds. I'm sure there's some around there, even if I have to pay Urag gro-Shub for it."
Serana only laughs.
He didn't let her see, but Vorstag was panicking over Serana's admission. Mannimarco, one of the most powerful figures to walk Tamriel, was set to marry her. He knew as little as she of the man, but whenever he was spoken of, it was in the quietest of whispers. As if even in the dead of night the necromancer would hear. The night they spent out in the tundra, after Serana fell asleep soundly in her tent, Vorstag looked to the sky.
He looked to the stars and the moons. He knew it would be hard to see the moon that orbits the planet of Arkay, nearly impossible but if he remembered correctly there was a phenomenon called "The Shade of the Revenant". A time where lights would flash in the sky, blessing all necromancers near their four temples. He just couldn't remember when that time took place.
He scours his memory. Going over everything he knew from his mothers about necromancy. There was something missing there. Something they never told him, not out of ignorance to his curiosity. But something deliberately kept from him.
The world revolves on a poinpoint. He stares at one spot in the frozen tundra, all cold earth and frost, until she wakes him.
"Everything alright?" She has her small hand on his shoulder, he only turns to stare at it. He never realized how many of those rings she had on before. He briefly wonders if they have a meaning but soon shakes away those thoughts.
"Just thinking over everything."
"If you don't want to come…you don't have to. I can take care of myself." He can feel Serana shrug behind him.
He stares at that point again, the pieces coming together. This man, Mannimarco, struck a bargain with Lord Harkon. Whether that bargain was advantageous for the late vampire or not is not yet known. But he knows he can't leave her by herself. Even if the necromancers were not as powerful or terrifying as his mother's made them out to be…he just can't leave her.
"Don't be silly. I was just thinking over how to make money here. The Frozen Hearth might need a new bard." He gives an easy grin. Slipping easily back into his jovial personality. Even though his mind is still running with thoughts.
Necromancers have an army of the dead at their disposal.
Thralls are not always in their control.
Pledging yourself to conjuration requires losing a piece of your soul.
Those things are what his mother's told him. The question remains how much of their souls are left. He spies her golden eyes, staring at him shyly. As if wondering why he wanted to come along.
When he was stuck in that endless forest in Coldharbour, after waking up, he asked Molag Bal one thing. He looked to the Prince of Enslavement, the tall and towering beast with a sharpened and scaly face and asked, "Is my soul tainted?"
The only reply: "Not yet, boy, not yet."
He stares at Serana and her beautiful face now. To leave her on her own would hurt him further, would hurt her further. He can't allow her to fall into that darkness that so many necromancers have already been lost to.
"Are you ready to go?" He asks quickly.
She smirks, "I thought you needed some sleep, or is your new state of employment keeping you up?"
"Nonsense, I've had enough sleep." He laughs and moves to the tents to begin taking them down.
She follows along, "You sure? You don't sound well rested." Damn her, Vorstag turns his head to her skeptical expression. She has one eyebrow quirked and a look of contemplation.
"I'll be fine. Help me here, I may be strong, but I can't carry all these things on my own." He reminds her.
The woman only smirks at the dismissal but thankfully helps him without another word. He keeps quiet but glances at her hands filled with many rings, wondering how long it will take her to learn the art of Conjuration.
Winterhold had a blizzard blowing through. The snow fell in droves, nearly covering Opal's eyesight and kept Vorstag hunched over in his cloak. Serana was behind him, holding on so gently with her arms around his waist, he feared she wasn't there once or twice. Vampires can't exactly freeze to death but they damn well could feel like it. He knew the Flame Atronach was somewhere behind them, probably suffering worse than any of them.
He clenches his teeth again as another ice searing wind blasts through. Opal bows his head against it. "Should we take a rest?" Serana asks, her teeth starting to chatter.
He looks to the right then to the left. They are surrounded by a bar and Inn and various houses and shops. They should be able to see them, they're not ten feet from them but the white keeps shrouding them in winters cloak.
The Inn would be good. Come to think of it, he could use a rest, a good long rest before they walk the ten minutes to the College of Winterhold. They could take some time. He could convince her to turn around. Keep her sanity and her pure soul while they dealt with Mannimarco in another way.
A piercing light makes up his mind. Ahead, the blue and white magelight was bobbing closer and closer. His hands tighten on the reigns. He could turn away now and tell Serana this was no good. He could tell her the college was closed, down on their luck, anything to keep her from…
"You there, travelers. Are you in need of assistance?" Faralda, the Altmer sorcerer was pulling on her own hood. Her yellow eyes were fierce as he last remembered them.
"Yes, looking for entrance into the College of Winterhold." Serana speaks for them.
The Altmer turns her sharp eyes to the vampire. "What is it you wish to find within?"
Vorstag held his breath, wondering what she will disclose. If they started talking about the great necromancer, word could get back to him. "I'm looking for answers, I need to learn more about Conjuration." Serana says honestly.
Faralda studies her, even with the snow bearing down on them, it is hard not to squirm under her assessing gaze. "The Dark Arts? It is not…exactly encouraged here. But Phinis Gestor would be who you are looking for."
He feels her shiver behind him. "I should add, we helped in the fight against the Dragonborn. I am Serana Volkihar from Castle Volkihar."
If the Altmer was surprised she didn't show it. "You are? Well, we certainly provide assistance to those who helped aid the Listener and the Harbinger. I just ask that you pass one exam. If we are to offer you help, I need to see what you can offer the College. Not just anyone is allowed inside. I need to see some skill in magic, a small test if you will."
"What do I need to do?" Serana chatters.
"Follow me, we can't perform any spells in this blasted weather." Faralda turns, holding her hands out to Vorstag. He does nothing but hand her the reigns to allow them to be guided closer to the towering structure. He can barely see it through the snow but when he has…it is beautiful. Such a shame to have a beautiful palace of sorts bordering such a poor town. He feels he can barely make out of the peaks and towers of this castle-like structure when Faralda stops.
"Here. If you may, I would like you to show a standard spell for one skilled in Destruction."
Serana slips away from Vorstag, and lands on her hands and knees. "It's so cold. I can show you an ice spike?"
Faralda watches her rise. "No, I would like you to cast a Firebolt. It is fairly easy to learn if you have not."
"I don't know that kind of spell." She dusts her hands on her armor. The poor girl was nearly frozen over. When Faralda gives her a book Vorstag leaps from the horse, "Is there a stable here?"
"That way." Faralda jerks her head. "But I will take your steed over once I get you across the bridge."
The pages turn, slowly at first before Serana has nearly gobbled up the whole book. Vorstag just stands there, shivering and glancing at the bridge. How in Mara's name does she think they'll be able to get across in this weather? One can barely see a few feet before them.
"Alright. I got it. I think." Serana pulls up her right hand, already burning with the embers of a firebolt spell. "Ready?"
Faralda holds a hand out to allow her, "Be my guest."
Vorstag wasn't paying much attention. He has spent many, many years amongst mages. So it was a shock to him when the firebolt when soaring over his head and crashed into one of the nearby structures. A wooden one.
He flinches with the impact but races ahead before Faralda can get there. A tiny fire on the roof. He thought the storm would take care of it.
"A moment." Faralda holds out a hand, sending some sort of ice spell that way. It suffocates the slowly growing flame before it can do more damage. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Serana says behind her.
Vorstag wishes to pull her into a hug and say she did fine. Although it was amusing to witness. His lips were quirking into a smile.
"A mistake. You made a mistake and thankfully, it was easy to fix." Faralda turns from the building, fixing Serana up with a glare. "If you have the patience and time, you will be able to practice these spells and I'm sure you'll get some hang of it."
Vorstag wishes to interject, to tell this woman just how spectacular and talented Serana is when he sees it. The glowing flames that hover over the ground, the seemingly shy position Dawn has taken up. She's certainly cold but the ice and snow has not extinguished her. Not one bit.
"If you just follow what the professors say and…" Farlada trails off, her hands light up with ice spells of some kind. "There's a Flame Atronach."
"Wait! That's mine. I conjured her." Serana steps in the way of whatever magic she was about to cast.
The sorceress pauses. "How long ago?"
"Days. It's permanent." Serana keeps up the defensive position. Dawn only moves closer to warm her.
"Well. It seems you are adept in the school you wish to learn more of." Faralda relaxes, the snow still coating her and building up on her cloak.
"I am a vampire." Serana begins.
"Follow me." Faralda gives one more look to the Flame Atronach before motioning to the steep path. The Altmer leads them on the bridge. It's winding, there's snow and ice coating it to which Faralda burns off. She keeps a magelight above her, so they know where she is at all times. Vorstag kept his sights on Serana, ready to pull her back or even dive for her if she were to fall.
But she didn't. It's as if she grew up here in the way she gracefully moved across the bridge. One look down and it was a whiteout. Although, Vorstag knows at the bottom of this structure are jagged rocks and crashing waves. A very, very long way down.
"Here we are." Faralda stops at the end of the bridge. She stares up at this beautiful palace of mages. A place of purpose, of learning, of fighting, and danger. "The College of Winterhold."