Smoke. A thick smog obscuring his vision and choking his lungs. He looks around but it's all he sees, and he can taste the acrid ashes of wooden buildings. He hears screams, of pain, of terror, shouts of alarm, barking orders to fight that which cannot be beaten.
He is in Helgen, and it is burning. His eyes water and sting, but he cannot close them, nor shield them, for his limbs will not answer his pleas for them to move. He feels as though he should run, but his legs feel as though they are embedded in the stone paths winding through the town - paths that, hereafter, may never be walked again except by bandits.
The oppressive veil of smoke and ash began to part beneath the weight of a massive trio of claws which thundered onto the ground - he got the impression that if his feet were capable of moving anywhere but where they were now, he would've stumbled. A second leg followed, and now far above him came a dark maw, not yet looking down at him.
The smog moved aside to reveal the full form of the massive dragon - for that was what it was, it could only be a dragon - covered in wicked spikes and scales looking like aged stone - but certainly far, far, stronger. Somehow it moved silently, and he noticed as it did that the screams and cries had died out, leaving only a tense, unnatural quiet.
For a few moments he could see the destruction it had wrought, stone towers and walls toppled and wooden buildings collapsing as fire ate away their supports. Strewn about were the bodies, victims of a wanton slaughter - some died indirectly, as a result of rubble dropped on them. Others were recognisable only as charred remains, no longer discernible as any race or species.
Now close, he could see the dragon peering at him. It's eyes bore no resemblance to the eyes of any creature ordinarily of this world; they were red dots inside black pools of unfathomable depth. They contained immeasurable wisdom; unspeakable knowledge; incomprehensible intelligence. This creature did not think in the way that mortals thought - its mind did not even operate on the same plane of existence.
Those red orbs dashed any hopes of his limbs ever answering his pleas. Now he could not look away, either, control of his body relinquished to the creature before him. His wings unfurled, and they blocked out all sights of Helgen in his peripherals; now there was only the dragon's crest and eyes that had seen eternity and found it wanting. Slowly, his maw began to unhinge, and it was going to swallow him, damning him to an abyss unknown -
He awoke with a gasp, thrust from the depths of a nightmare to reality, forcing himself to a sitting position and looking about, alarmed. Reflexively, he felt for his sword.
"Are you okay?" A female voice, concerned, from his left.
Serana, he remembered. Sure enough, the vampire was standing with her hands wrought together in front of her, hesitant, looking down at him. They were in a narrow cave corridor. He thought he recognised it as Dimhollow's entrance, and if the light coming from the right was any indication, they were near the outside. Serana, he noted, was just at the beginning of a bend, out of the way of sunlight.
He didn't answer immediately, giving up his grasping for a sword to wipe his face with a hand. Nightmares, he thought. Fantastic. He wasn't surprised that he had had one - though few would confess it aloud, many of the veteran Vigilants, and Paladins especially, were victim to nightmares. Rather, he was more surprised that it was a nightmare of Helgen instead of the Hall, or worse, some mix of that and his actual dream.
"I am alive," he pronounced hoarsely, testing the words. She didn't need to know the source of his nightmares, or that he'd had any at all.
"You're welcome." Serana responded, though she still sounded suspiciously close to concerned. He blinked. Had she…? No, that didn't make any sense. Perhaps she was just taking credit for dragging him here, because he certainly hadn't gotten here on his own.
"You haven't killed me." He spoke. It wasn't a question.
"Did you want me to?" From this distance he could make out the challenging brow she raised.
Instead of responding he frowned, and it was when he tried to sit up that he noticed he was not laying on the cold hard ground but instead a bundle of fabric that served as a pillow. His armor, fortunately, had not been removed. His sword lay against the wall opposite him. He felt for the cut on his ribs and found that it wasn't there, despite the fabric clearly being torn from a blade. He tested the movement of his shoulder and found it sore, but not aching with pain like he might have expected. His chest, too, was in a similar state. He looked to his hand, which had a hastily arranged swath of cloth tied around it in lieu of a proper bandage. He looked to Serana.
"You healed me." This one wasa question as much as a statement of disbelief.
"Yes." She raised her chin, as though daring him to argue with her decision. "A 'thank you' would be nice."
He ignored her last statement. "You weren't supposed to do that." He was very confused. Again, her brow rose.
"What was I supposed to do, then?" He blinked several times, and rose to sit against the wall.
You were supposed to kill me. He thought but didn't say, and turned to stare at the opposite wall. Never, never has he been helped by those he swore to destroy. It was always betrayal if it wasn't immediate hostility. To heal him… it made no sense.
"Why?" He asked, voice hoarse.
"You saved me. I… it was only fitting that I returned the favor." He swiveled back to look at her - a vampire with a code of honor? If he didn't owe his life to it, he would've found it laughable.
"Saved you? I killed your kin, and had I been in a fit state, I might have killed you too." He argued, but without any real heat. He was bewildered.
"Just because they were vampires doesn't make them my kin," she returned, almost sharply, "Would you claim relation to someone just because they were Imperial?" He frowned. How… very un-Nordic. Imperials might not do that, but Nords certainly would.
(And as much as he looked like one, he thought of it as relation to his mother, rather than relation to the Nords. He was born and bred in Colovia; he would always be an Imperial at heart)
"You're a vampire. I'm… prey." He contended, and at that, she frowned too.
"Not to me." He had died, he decided. He had died and gone to some strange version of the afterlife, where nothing was as it was meant to be. Vampires were supposed to be the worst of abominations because they were intelligent, to a different degree than Daedra. Because more than drink blood, they hunted the mortal races, enthralled them and turned them into servants and cattle, treated everyone who wasn't them with arrogant disdain.
They weren't supposed to fashion him pillows and bandages out of an old cloak, nor were they supposed to use whatever magical skills they had to heal him, a professed vampire hunter, and keep him alive. He knew what being fed on felt like, and it was altogether unpleasant; he felt none of those effects.
"You… you don't make any sense." He declared, because he was at his wit's end and she, plainly, was an aberration. Not an abomination, because his honor wouldn't allow him to use that term so easily, but she was absolutely an outlier.
"You said I was kind." She asserted, and he had, he was reminded.
"For a vampire," he retorted, "and I said a lot of things last… time." It was some time in the day judging by the light from the mouth of the cave, but he had no idea how much time had passed. "I was delirious," he continued.
"You also said I had a pretty name." She responded, and he was shocked into speechlessness, mouth open but no words coming out. Was she making fun of him?
"...I said that out loud?" Because he believed for sure, looking back on his memory, that he'd only thought the words and then passed out.
"You were delirious," she said, almost coy.
"You are the most confusing creature I've ever met." he said, and meant it. He had no idea what she meant by her words, but he did know what she was a walking contradiction and his brain couldn't take much more of it.
"Where did you bring me?" He continued before she could respond and go on talking circles around him. As it was, she just smiled a little smugly, as though being confusing was a quality to be proud of.
"The mouth of the cave. You've been unconscious for a few hours." Hours where she could've easily turned him into a ready-to-eat meal. Hours where she had healed him instead. He forced the thoughts out of his head, because they had no purpose in the moment.
"What do you want from me? You kept me alive for a reason." He pressed, and her smile faded in favor of a mild frown. Now conscious and not in danger of dropping dead, it was much easier to push away thoughts about the curve of her lips -
Easier, but still difficult. She had no right to be that pretty - why did vampires get all of the strong curves and just-right facial features? Unfair.
"I kept you alive because I didn't want you to die. You saved me, and so I had hoped you could take me to my family's home. It's become abundantly clear that this Skyrim is no longer one I'm familiar with."
"Right. Your home. Is everyone there as generous as you are?" He all-but-scoffed.
She made a face. "They won't kill you if you enter with me." Which meant that no, they weren't as generous as she was, and would kill him if not for her. Hells, they'd probably kill him anyway. Just because she hadn't killed him when she had the chance didn't mean she wouldn't once she'd gotten her use out of him. All that meant was that he was safe until they got to her home, wherever it was.
The origin of the vampire 'menace', as Isran referred to it, was valuable information. Information he doubts he would otherwise come across, because if her home was still standing after these thousands of years, it was probably because it was well-hidden, well-protected, or both.
"Where?" He asked simply, and he saw a flash of surprise and hope in her eyes. Eyes, he noted, that weren't glowing, and could even pass for normal eyes given extenuating circumstances. Rather than the burning orange of the other vampires he'd faced, hers were a dimmer amber, almost gold.
"Off the coast of Solitude, on an islet. If we can get to the coast, we should be able to find a small ferry." He doubted it was still there, but shrugged.
"Fine. I'll take you there." She smiled broadly, and he raised a hand. "I have conditions."
"Name them." She said immediately.
"If you attempt to feed on an innocent - any noncombatant, really anyone either not trying to kill us or who wouldn't, given the chance - I'll kill you. I'm already a heretic for not trying to do so the moment I'm able."
She stiffened, which was good, because it meant she knew he was serious. Really, her not being even remotely violent was the only reason she was still alive.
Or so he'd keep telling himself.
"Done." She said, and he nodded.
"Are you capable in combat?" He asked.
"I'm an expert in destruction magic, and a fair hand with a dagger." He glanced to the sheath on her hip, which he'd not noticed before. The make of the handle looked Elven. He nods, satisfied.
"Good. It's a long way from Solitude, and I won't be able to protect you on my own if, and likely when, we come under attack. There's a war going on, and all."
"You won't be able to? I did see your handiwork on my way back. You killed a lot of things on your own."
"Yes, and then I passed out from my injuries. I was unprepared. It won't happen again." He refused to let her not-quite-compliment have an effect on him. He held himself to higher standards, and if he'd achieved them, he wouldn't have needed the assistance of a vampire to recover. She let it pass without comment, thankfully.
"The war - these Stormcloaks and the Empire, you said?" She asked, canting her head.
"Mhm," he nods. When it became clear he wouldn't elaborate, she asked further.
"What's the story behind that?" She persisted, and he sighed.
"Ulfric Stormcloak is the Jarl of Windhelm. It is said that he challenged High King Torygg to a duel for the leadership of Skyrim, then defeated him. Some say he Shouted the man to the ground and then finished him with a sword, while others claim he simply Shouted him to pieces in front of the court."
"Wait - Shouting? Like the Nordic Tongues?" she interjected.
"I guess." he shrugged. "I'm not familiar with Nordic lore, and I've only heard of the abilities of the Greybeards secondhand. Torygg's death threw Skyrim into chaos. Ulfric believes that Skyrim should throw off the shackles of the Empire, and subsequently, the Aldmeri Dominion. Jarl Elisif, Torygg's widow, supports the Empire." Serana was silent for several moments. Then -
"Your explanation has raised… additional questions." She settled to say, and he allowed another sigh.
"I suspect that's going to be a pattern," he muttered, but of course they weren't actually that far away from each other and she heard him.
"It's not my fault I -" but she stopped herself, biting her lip.
"No, go on. I believe you were about to give away some crucial detail to your confinement in an ancient vampire crypt." He said dryly, and she made a face at him.
"I told you. If you want the full story, take me to my home. This lack of trust goes both ways." She paused, then continued, "Speaking of trust, I don't even know your name."
"Passing out does have a habit of inhibiting one's ability to speak, yes." She just stared at him with a flat expression so he rolled his eyes. "My name is Valios. Congratulations, you are the first vampire I've ever introduced myself to."
She rolled her eyes in turn. "Nice to meet you, Valios." she said it like she had to because it was proper etiquette. He couldn't be bothered, himself. "None of the others were as kind as me, were they?"
He wrinkled his nose. "You're not supposed to be nice. You're supposed to zap me with lightning, drink my blood, and then turn into a bat or something." He'd never actually seen the last part, but he figured it could happen. Probably.
"Sorry to disappoint," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, I get that we're supposed to be mortal enemies and all, but you could show a bit of gratitude, considering I saved your life."
He pursed his lips. "I could," he agreed. "But I won't." He continued a moment later. He refused to say the words 'Thank you', refused to give thoughts of her another foothold in his mind. It was bad enough that he thought she was attractive. She groaned.
"You're insufferable." She grumbled, and this made him smile.
"Consider my gratitude the answering of your questions, and the fact that I'm helping you at all. Like I mentioned, I should have killed you when I had the chance."
"But you didn't." She pointed out.
"No, and I am regretting it more and more every second." He retorted, with surprisingly little heat. He didn't dwell on it. He glanced at her, and thought she might stick her tongue out had she any less dignity.
"Where are we going first?" He considered, running through his mental map of Skyrim, and where she'd claimed her home would be.
"Morthal is closest," he decides. "we will need supplies if we're to make that kind of journey." He gave her a suspicious look. "You... eat food, yes?"
She responded with a flat look, unamused. "I'm a vampire, not an animated skeleton. Blood is... a catch-all; I can survive only on it, but my body still take nutrients from food."
"Hmph," he grunted, noncommittal. "Maybe we'll run across a group of bandits sooner rather than later." He didn't particularly fancy setting a vampire on bandits, scum though they may be - but then, if it wasn't Serana who killed them, it would be him. "What of horses?"
If she could have placed a sassy hand on her hip, she would have. "Are you sure you're a vampire hunter? Living creatures fear vampires - there's a reason why our hounds are undead." He sighed.
"I thought maybe it was different with higher vampires, and that maybe I would be lucky. Walking it is, then." He tried to mentally calculate how many leagues away Solitude was, and gave up when the answer became 'My feet are going to hurt'. Not that he was any stranger to walking, not at all, but going that distance with a higher vampire who he couldn't really trust with the destination of a place filled with more higher vampires... he resisted the urge to sigh again.
"What time is it?" He asked.
"I don't know. I didn't fancy staring up at the sun and feeling like I was burning alive." He couldn't be annoyed because he'd responded with just as much snark earlier - actually, no, he could be annoyed, and he would be.
"Oh, would that you could have saved me the trouble." He remarked, and grunted to a standing position. "Winter is approaching, so the days are becoming shorter. I came to you in the morning, and if I've been asleep for several more hours, then night should be coming soon. We can set off then." He stared off towards the mouth of the cave.
"What'll we do until then?" She asked from behind him - she had probably stood as well. He inhaled then exhaled, resisting the urge to clench his fists.
"The vampires I killed here - are they from your... bloodline?"
A moment as she adjusted to the change of topic. "I'm not sure. I think so, if only because they were probably looking for me. I only recognised the male that I assume you killed just across the bridge where you found me. His name was Lokil, new when I... left." He stiffened. Lokil. The name of Adalvald's killer. Slowly, he turned to face Serana, face severe.
"The vampires here. They killed many of my friends trying to find you." They killed all of them he didn't say. He had never had very many friends, not like those who'd come to form Skyrim's Hall. A few, some who were gone now, the rest back in the Imperial City or traveling. But those who he'd truly bonded with - they were dead.
Her face slackened in surprise, and then shifted into... sympathy. "I'm sorry." She said. He narrowed his eyes, searching for a trace of insincerity, falsehood. He found none. The genuine nature of her statement quelled some of the fire in his heart, and he forced himself to relax.
He slowly nodded in acknowledgement. "I will cremate them, in accordance with our ways."
"I can help -" he raised a hand to silence her.
"No. I understand you had no direct hand in their deaths, but you are still a vampire. And I... should do this alone." He forced himself not to dwell on the fact that she'd offered her assistance before she could even really think of it. Vampires do not show compassion, he reminded himself. They lie. Deceive. Even her gratitude was nothing more than well-concealed deceit. She will betray you eventually. He knew this to be true. And yet, he found he could not meet her eyes.
"You may watch, if you wish." He said as he brushed past her, making to find Tolan's body. Mutely, she followed.
It hadn't taken long. He had only retrieved the bodies of Tolan and Adalvald. The Hall of the Vigilant was near enough, but those... weren't his friends. Those were charred remains that used to be people, but weren't any longer. They'd died in defense of their home, and this ritual would serve as their send-off. Tolan and Adalvald, at least, deserved not to rot inside of a vampiric crypt.
Serana, surprisingly, had followed him outside, pulling up a cloak with a hood - perhaps one she'd scavenged - to stave off the sun. It was drawn closely around her, rendering little of her form visible, though if he focused he could clearly make out amber eyes beneath the hood. He wasn't looking at her, however.
Just down the slope that led to Dimhollow Crypt, Tolan and Adalvald were lain side-by-side, hands ontop of each other at their midsection and eyes closed. They were both covered by cloaks he'd scavenged from inside, off the bodies.
There was no textbook ritual for these matters. Some Vigilants preferred the traditional burials of their respective peoples. Some didn't want funerals at all, instead preferring to be remembered as they likely died; in battle, executing the will of Stendarr. Adalvald, he knew, was devoted entirely to the Order, and Tolan was probably no different, judging by his last act. Valios had performed a few funerals before, out in the field. Once or twice, for a fallen ally who was not of the Order but had died fighting for Stendarr's Mercy all the same. Once for a fellow Paladin, and a few times for Vigilants.
"Blessed are the Vigilant, they who do not falter in the face of evil." He began aloud, the most quoted line of Stendarr's scripture, and the core tenet of the Vigilant Order and Knightly Crusaders alike. "By His will is is Balance sundered, and the world given new life. In your heart shall burn an unquenchable flame, and in your hand be the potential for His Mercy, the key to the great beyond. In His sight have you fallen, and by His will shall you rise again at His side." First came the quotation of traditional verses, homage to the god they had devoted themselves to.
"Brother Tolan. Brother Adalvald. Sister Carcette. Brother Landon. Sister Lamira. Sister Anandyn. Brother Kr'thog. Brother Deetum-Ja..." He recited the names, voice unfailing, tone steady. Names he had committed to memory, learned after the Hall's demise but no less important for not having been known before. All in all, twenty-six names. Twenty-six fallen. Perhaps there were more - perhaps there were less. It was with Tolan's help he had come up with those most likely to have vanquished. Now Tolan, too, joined the list.
His face softened, and he allowed his shoulders to sag. "You were good friends. Be well." Perhaps, if he was alone, he might have said more. Perhaps he might even have cried. He thought not, though. He'd cried as much as he probably would have for the past day, and he was unwilling to break down in front of a vampire.
As... kind as she might have been.
He took a breath. Then he stepped forward, and extended his hand. The spell probably had other names, other uses, but for the purposes of the Order, it was called most simply 'Funerary Rites', and taught to every Novitiate as part of their becoming a full Vigilant. The cloak laying over the body began to brighten as the magic took effect. Slowly, flames tattered into existence, enveloping the makeshift funeral shroud in a matter of seconds. The fire would devour the shrouds and the body below until there was only ashes within a few minutes.
Silent, he watched. A few metres behind him, just as quiet, Serana stood, too.
When there was nothing left and the wind began to blow the ashes down the hill, he heaved a sigh, then turned. "Come. We'll wait out the remaining sunlight inside." Again, she followed. Once they were inside, he turned to look at her, catching her just as she threw the hood from off her head, probably relishing in the lack of sunlight. She looked a little surprised at his gaze, but said nothing.
"Thank you." He said gruffly, and she had the good sense not to comment on his verbal gratitude. She had been entirely respectful - far more than could have been expected from someone of her kind.
Her chin dipped. "It was my pleasure." She halted. "I mean - not pleasure. Very poor choice of words. Not at all, that... ahem. You know what I meant." He had the privilege of seeing her mildly flustered, something he suspected didn't happen often. It managed to bring a thin smile to his face.
"I am going to meditate. Do as you like until night falls." His magicka reserves needed regenerating, and he needed some peace of mind and... alone time. She was... not entirely unpleasant company, but he could very well do without any company at all for a period.
"Alright. I'll be... looking around, I guess. Shout if you need me." He nods, and shifts so that she can walk past him.
She had no right to be so human, he thought. But then, perhaps it was on him for searching for humanity in the most desperate of places. He adopted the lotus position just at the mouth of the cave, where the light just barely brushed his face, and tried to fall into meditation.
AN: woo.
i've made up a bunch of fanon stuff about the Vigilant Order and the Crusaders of Stendarr both, because, naturally, they're woefully underdeveloped for this purpose.
the scripture Valios half-quotes is a mix of Dragon Age's Chant of Light and some stuff that sounded suitably devout and religious for the occasion.
as ever, if you've questions on lore i've made up, on the characters, story, what have ye, ask em and i shall do my upmost to answer.
cheers!
~ylri