Chapter 10: Aubade

A/N: Welcome back everyone! I'm relieved to finally release this chapter, it was very much a labour of love and very difficult to write! I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for being patient. Here we go!

Update: Temporary hiatus as I prepare for and take my finals for uni. Should be writing again by the 5th of June.

Update 2: Thank you for your patience! I want to have the full ending finished before I upload any more chapters. I'm also dealing with personal issues and exercising more self-care now that finals are over and I have a temporary break from studying. All my love to you, readers!

She watched the primitive war axe raise and knew not even her supernatural reflexes would stop it. Her heart stuttered.

"Behind you!" Serana cried.

Her sharp eyes followed Vafiél carefully, afraid to miss even a moment. What happened next was so fluid and precise she thought time had slowed. He straightened from his crouch in what almost looked like a pirouette, turning just enough to avoid the blade that whistled down toward him, and in that very same second he drew the dagger from his hip and plunged it into the Falmer's eye. The creature gurgled, shuddered, and collapsed.

His pale gaze pierced her the way a frigid wind cut through wool and leather. "Duck," said Vafiél, calmly. Serana didn't hesitate to do so. Still, she didn't look away from him, watching frost weave down his arms and past his fingertips where it spiralled into shards. The Falmer who were approaching fell in their tracks with ice in their necks. The snow around them turned red.

As she straightened, she watched the calm on his face melt away to reveal pity and guilt, and she remembered these creatures were once his kin. Serana bit her lip. "Come on," she said, hoping to make him focus. "Let's keep moving."

Vafiél met her gaze, blinking slowly. "Just a moment," he requested. His soft voice was such a contrast to his actions in battle, it stunned her.

Serana lingered curiously at his side as Vafiél gathered the bodies of the Betrayed together. He crouched, balancing elegantly, and held a hand out as he prayed aloud: "Auriel, though they are corrupted and unrecognisable, I commend these souls to you, and plead for them to find peace in the afterlife… If there is any hope for them, even in death, let it be so."

Vafiél took a breath, seemingly calming himself, before giving her a sidelong glance. "Serana, you might want to back away and shield your eyes." Once she had, what she could only describe as sun fire burst from Vafiél, turning the bodies of the Falmer to ash and making her shiver. Serana had no doubt such a spell could easily turn her to dust, too.

When she was certain it was over and the light had subsided, she quietly approached Vafiél. "Cremation?" she said, quietly. "I thought that was a Dunmer thing."

He offered the slightest of smiles. "They are well-known for it," Vafiél replied with a cursory nod, "but cremation has been performed since the time of the Ayleids. For my people, funerals—and births—were rare events, and cause for grand ceremonies. I just hope this will be enough." He started up the crumbling staircase carved into the mountainside.

"Why were births rare?" Serana asked, following him cautiously.

Vafiél paused a moment before answering, "I'm unsure if it holds true for other Mer, but at least among my kind, conceiving a child was always difficult. We are only fertile for the first seventy years of our lives. That does not leave a forgiving window in which to have children, considering the average lifespan was around five-hundred."

Serana digested that in silence. She suspected his infertility, since she'd read those accounts in her books, but it still felt strange. "Your parents were lucky to have two children," she realised aloud.

Vafiél hummed agreement, though he avoided her gaze. "It took my mother's life, in the end," he said, fingertips brushing the broken remains of a pillar.

Silence stretched between them. She could have easily reached out and touched him, but he seemed leagues away, and a far-off look dominated his expression. Serana found herself remembering how he'd stare at the night sky as they travelled or watch hawks drift lazily through the sky as the sun began to set. Melancholy is an easy trap to fall into for a dovah, he'd told her once. Especially a lonely one.

"Vafiél," she said, hesitantly, "what will you do when we end the prophecy?" The real question lingered in the air unspoken: Will you hide forever?

Vafiél met her gaze. The weight of it pressed down on her as if he'd dropped a boulder on her chest. "Alduin has returned," he murmured. "We are bound by destiny. It is my fate to defeat him and prevent the end of the world… That is what I will do." He paused for a moment, hearing her silent question. "The time will come to release the dragon inside me. That time has not come yet."

They crested the staircase and he gestured out at the long expanse of frozen lake they now stood near. "The next wayshrine is across the Elothíl Basin," said Vafiél. She could just see the domed roof in the distance.

Serana cautiously stepped onto the icy surface, hearing tiny cracks beneath her feet. She halted. "Does this ice feel a little… thin to you?"

"I think you're right," agreed Vafiél, tentatively. He frowned. "I hear something."

"Wait, I hear it too," she said quickly. "What—" Shattering ice broke off her sentence and shrill, quaking roars ripped through the air as twin dragons emerged from the lake, climbing into the sky.

She looked to Vafiél instinctively and he pointed to the far right side of the lake to an outcropping of snow and rock. "Go, before all of the ice breaks," he told her.

"And leave you here alone? Are you insane?!" Serana argued indignantly. "That's not—"

"Serana, go," Vafiél insisted. The dragons began to descend.

"Vafiél—"

"Run!" he implored her, eyes glowing bright blue and the air trembling around them.

She turned away with a hiss of frustration and dashed for the outcropping. The ice cracked at her heels and the wind screamed across the dragons' great wings as they dove for Vafiél, and stupidly she kept glancing back at him.

Serana pressed her back to the stone when she reached it and watched breathlessly as the twin dragons wove around each other in a descending helix, fire spewing from their jaws. The ice split apart and all three of them disappeared underwater.

"Vafiél!" she shouted, frantically searching the lake. Horror crept through her when she didn't see him resurface. Ignoring her better judgement, Serana sprinted across the cracking ice, only to hastily stop as the dragons burst forth again. She scrambled back away from the rapidly opening hole.

A bout of coughing and spluttering sounded to her left as Vafiél clung to the ice, weak and shivering. She was at his side in an instant, dragging him out of the frigid water.

"I told you… to go," he rasped in complaint, scanning the sky.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Serana told him firmly. "Come on. That's it."

As they stood, Vafiél grimaced, looked past her, and his eyes glowed. Serana rapidly ducked behind him and covered her ears as the sound of his Voice broke the air and made the mountains tremble. She wasn't sure what he said, but a sickening crunch sounded above them and the dragons crashed into the lake with twisted wings.

As the wounded creatures crawled painfully toward them, growling and snarling, she and Vafiél attacked. Serana glanced over at him just in time to see the dragon's lifeblood spray onto him, its throat opened by ice. She worked in tandem with him to take down the remaining dragon.

Serana watched in equal parts disgust and awe as he stood there, covered in steaming blood, and absorbed the souls of the dragons. Ethereal light shimmered around him and in his eyes.

Vafiél glanced over at her, panting. "Are you alright?" he rasped.

"I think so. Are you?" She stepped closer and quickly looked down.

Echoing her realisation, he said, "Now isn't the time. Let's move." He led the way across the lake.

After filling the Initiate's Ewer at the wayshrine, they stopped in the nearby waterfall cave so Vafiél could wash off the blood and change clothes. Serana stood near the entrance with her back to him.

"How does it feel?" she asked, then clarified, "Absorbing the souls."

A silent moment passed. She imagined his thoughtful expression as he paused to think. "Overwhelming," he finally replied. "It's difficult to describe… Dragon souls are ancient and overflowing with knowledge; there's always a surge of power, but then a quiet sadness." Water splashed onto rock and his breathing stuttered. Vafiél cleared his throat. "I've gotten used to it, but it's never pleasant."

Serana hummed thoughtfully. Another splash, another shiver. Then a muttered curse. "Having trouble?"

"Yes," Vafiél replied reluctantly. "My hair is stained."

"Put on some clothes and I'll help you." She heard a sigh and a shuffle, a rustling of cloth.

"Alright, you can turn around now."

Serana approached him. He stood tired and shivering, his skin still slightly damp. She offered him a soft smile and sat down. He followed suit.

"The scrub?" She extended a hand and he passed over the container, turning his back to her. Serana worked the coarse granules through his hair for several minutes until it was clean. He slowly relaxed as she did so, the tension in his muscles ebbing somewhat.

"Thank you, Serana," he sighed as she finished. "I can manage from here."

"Are you sure?" she teased, hoping to cheer him up.

Vafiél snorted. "Yes, I believe I've had enough practice," he drawled, twisting to meet her gaze. His eyes glittered in the light reflected from the water.

Serana shook her head, amused, and kissed his cheek. His blush made her smirk. "Come on. One more wayshrine to go," she said, resuming her spot at the mouth of the cave.

The final wayshrine lay at the crest of a large, sprawling Falmer encampment, right next to the bridge leading to the Inner Sanctum. Seeing the grand building in such a state of disrepair felt almost an insult.

Vafiél glanced sideways over the rail as they crossed the ornate bridge, gazing out at the frozen expanse of the valley far beneath them. Great heights had never frightened him. Fitting, he supposed.

"Look at this place," Serana murmured as they emerged into the courtyard. "It's ancient. The bow has to be in here."

A golden statue of Auriel dominated the courtyard as its centrepiece. Here, the god assumed the form of an elven man in a spiked crown, his power flowing from his hands into the characteristic sun symbol. Snow gathered on broad shoulders and frost chipped away at the metal.

Serana's apprehension was evident in how stiffly she walked up the steps with him. "I'm with you," Vafiél reminded her, gently. She only nodded.

At the balcony, he emptied the contents of the Initiate's Ewer into the basin, relieving his aching arms.

"Is… that it?" Serana asked.

"I suppose," Vafiél said uncertainly. "Oh, look." He leaned down to watch the water drain out of the basin, travelling through parallel grooves in the floor and filling a sun-shaped hollow. Light flashed on the doors.

"Do I get to call you Prelate Vafiél now?" Serana asked, her tone a hollow attempt at mirth.

He laughed briefly through his nose. "I hope not," he muttered. "Religious zealotry isn't really my thing."

Her cold fingers laced with his again. "Let's get this over with," Serana muttered. They entered the Sanctum together.

The entry room within somehow managed to be even colder than outside, likely due to the huge chunks of ice throughout it. Vafiél stiffened. Upon closer inspection he realised the ice imprisoned at least a dozen of the Betrayed and their pet chaurus. They appeared to be reaching for the shrine to Auriel on the centre dais.

"And I thought the Soul Cairn was creepy," Serana whispered. "What happened here?"

"I have a feeling we'll find out soon," Vafiél responded, just as quiet. "Don't touch them."

More of the Betrayed in similar states littered the partially-crushed rooms of the Sanctum ahead. Vafiél forcibly ignored the elven skeletons on the ground, trapped under rock, cradling each other or holding hands. He refused to consider who they belonged to. Not the time for distractions.

Vafiél glanced down at Serana. Her grip crushed his hand and made it shake from the force. "I know being in here is difficult for you. Just… Stay with me. We'll get through this."

Serana inhaled unevenly, blinking a few times, and marched them forward into the remains of the chapel.

More frozen creatures littered the open room they emerged into. Some hid behind chipped pillars, others had been caught mid-escape. And behind a wall of clear, enchanted ice sat Arch-Curate Vyrthur on his throne. His voice crawled through the air with petulant venom.

"Did you really come here expecting to claim Auriel's Bow?" Vyrthur demanded, sneering. "You've done exactly as I predicted and brought your fetching companion to me. You disappoint me, boy."

Vafiél fought the snarl rising in him. Serana squeezed his hand.

"Which, I'm sorry to say," Vyrthur continued, "means your usefulness is at an end." He raised a hand to eye level. "Kill them."

Several hunks of ice burst open at once and grating growls filled the room. Vafiél made a motion with his left hand and Serana ducked behind him as he drew breath, then Shouted the frozen creatures into the opposite wall. They cracked apart like clay on stone.

"Pest," growled Vyrthur, grip tightening on the arms of his white throne. "You delay only your own deaths!"

The Arch-Curate's hand flashed and the whole room began to shake and rumble, as if in the throes of an earthquake. Vafiél stumbled closer to Serana, reaching for her, though he wasn't close enough.

"Watch out, he's pulling down the ceiling!" she yelled.

Vafiél hastily scrambled backward to dodge chunks of stone from overhead. A sharp piece of ice flew past him and left a stinging scratch on his cheek, but before he had time to nurse it the Falmer who had been released took an angry swipe at him. Vafiél ducked and kicked it away, trapping it beneath the crumbling ceiling.

"Serana," Vafiél called, squinting as he searched for her in the dust and snow-mist. He spotted her scowling ferociously at Vyrthur, hands alight with magic.

"Enough, Vyrthur!" Serana declared, her crisp voice cutting the air. Light engulfed Vyrthur.

In a moment of terrible déjà vu, Vafiél made a dash for her.

"Death first!" Vyrthur cried.

An explosion of force, light and sound turned the world to white, blurring Vafiél's vision and making his ears ring. He only realised he'd hit the floor when the sensation ebbed. Panicked, he tried to raise himself on shaking arms. The entire chapel had collapsed around him and pain shot through his body like lightning.

Fiery amber eyes snagged his attention as they appeared in front of him. A cool hand brushed his fingers. "Vafiél," Serana said urgently. "Hey, are you alright? You have to get up, Vafiél. We can do this. I know we can."

With her help, Vafiél forced himself to his feet. So great were his pain and exhaustion, he felt something stirring within him, some strangely familiar will not quite his own, and yet so innate it could belong to no one else. He let it lend strength to his quivering limbs and sharpen his blurry eyes.

Before them lay the balcony of the overlook, and the first hazy beginnings of a bloody sunrise splashed hues of red and gold on the world, though the sun had not yet climbed above the horizon. Every surface glistened.

Vafiél looked to Serana. "I am with you," he told her, and together they ascended the steps to the overlook.

Breathing raggedly, Vyrthur leaned heavily on the railing, clutching at his chest. His eyes snapped to the pair as they drew near and gleamed with reproach.

"It's over, Vyrthur," Vafiél told him firmly. "Yield and give us the bow."

"How dare you!" Vyrthur spat. "I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, you impudent wretch. I had the ears of our god!"

"Yes, yes, until the Betrayed corrupted you," Serana cut in condescendingly, arms folded. "We've heard this sad story."

Vyrthur's laugh rang out, bitter and painful. "Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools," he muttered. "Look into my eyes, Serana. You tell me what I am."

Serana's unsettled expression caught Vafiél's gaze. "You… You're a vampire?" she said in disbelief. "But Auriel should've protected you…"

"When I became infected by one of my own Initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me," Vyrthur told her scornfully. "Cast me aside like a forgotten stone! I swore I'd have my revenge, no matter the cost."

Vafiél couldn't fight his contempt any longer. "Auriel forsook you because he saw the greed and ambition in your heart, Vyrthur," he said, lethally quiet. "You embraced the powers of the vampire before you realised your weakness to sunlight and started to regret it."

Vyrthur snarled, apparently trying to ignore him. He stared at Serana as if he'd have better luck with her. "Auri-El himself may have been beyond my reach, but his influence on our world wasn't. All I needed was the blood of a vampire and his own weapon, the blasted bow."

"The blood of a vampire… Auriel's Bow… It was you? You created that prophecy?" Serana said slowly.

"A prophecy that lacked a single, final ingredient…" Vyrthur advanced toward Serana, eyes glowing. "The blood of a pure vampire. The blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour."

Vafiél flexed his fingers. The Thu'um roiled in his throat.

Enraged, Serana edged forward and took hold of Vyrthur's throat, lifting him into the air with supernatural strength. "You were waiting all this time for someone with my blood to come along?" she snarled, showing her fangs. Vyrthur writhed but could not escape her grip. "Well, that's too bad. I intend on keeping it. Let's see if your blood has any power to it!" With that, she threw him to the ground.

Vafiél acted quickly. Using Vyrthur's shock to his advantage, he unleashed the Shout of the Inferno upon the Arch-Curate, engulfing him in dragonfire. A whirlwind of frost blew Vafiél and Serana away as Vyrthur scrambled to his feet.

"Enough, Althadan! You cannot win this!" Vafiél told him, hearing the plea in his voice.

For a moment, something flickered in Vyrthur's eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it came. "Fool," Vyrthur snapped. "I'll darken the skies with her blood!" Sun fire shone in his hand, burning his skin. He aimed.

Vafiél's heart skipped several beats at once. The Words to slow time were somewhere, somewhere in his mind, out of reach. Ironically, he wasn't quick enough to speak them.

The golden bolt flew from Vyrthur's scorched hand and found its mark in Serana's stomach.

Her scream vibrated in the air, sudden and ear-splitting. Time did seem to slow then as she crumpled, her skin alight, her expression agony.

The strange woman stood and swayed a little, blinking open her amber eyes. They gleamed now that the lilac flames had disappeared, thrusting the cavern into gloom, leaving only half-light and that fiery confusion in her gaze.

He knew he should kill her. He knew Isran would demand it, were he here right now. Strangely, though, Vafiél couldn't find it in himself to harm her, to even reach for the magic or his dagger and strike with surprise on his side.

If he focused hard enough, he could almost see the red strings of fate between them.

He watched her, curiosity stirring. "You read them?"

"Skimmed," Serana replied, glancing at the tomes on the table with quiet wonder. "They're fascinating. And the drawings…"

Vafiél cursed himself for smiling at her flattery. "They see no use now. I'm glad someone could appreciate them," he said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

She met his gaze. "I'm sure the College of Winterhold would kill to have those books. Instead, they're up here, locked away in a forgotten tower. Just like you." A slight frown furrowed her brow. "You're a skilled mage. Why—"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," Vafiél warned her, softly. He couldn't afford to indulge in her friendship. He couldn't bear to watch her disappear like all the rest.

"In the meantime," Isran added, locking eyes with Vafiél, "we're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you. Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?"

Vafiél's breathing quickened and the sound of his racing heart filled his ears. But why? Why would she come here, of all places? Could it be?

He took the stairs three at a time and impatiently followed Isran to a room tucked away in a corner, full of bones and torture devices, and there she was. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him and he suddenly found himself forgetting how words were used. Isran was talking, but Vafiél didn't care. He watched a wry smile twist her lips.

"Weren't expecting to see me again, huh?"

Sharp points of pain flared all around him and forced him, shaking, to his knees. Through gaps in his fingers he saw her, horrified, holding a hand over her mouth. Crying? She didn't seem the type. It must have been his imagination.

This was not his first stoning, though just like every other time, he hoped it would be his last. Sounds and sights started to blur but he could've sworn she cried out for it all to end. He recognised his name in her strong, sharp voice, calling for him to fight. He didn't.

Somewhere in the distance, as he floated between consciousness and unconsciousness, a woman was weeping.

Vafiél met her gaze. Her breathing had stuttered, and she swallowed audibly. He went to speak, but she cut him off.

"Don't scare me like that again, okay?" she said. It sounded like she wanted to be harsh, but all she managed was a soft plea.

His chest tightened. He managed a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Serana," Vafiél whispered, seized by the brief urge to embrace her. He resisted.

"If we don't run into any trouble on the way, it'll be a miracle," said Vafiél, wryly. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of your father's underlings."

"So do I," Serana agreed, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm… a bit nervous to go back to the castle. Who knows what he'll do if he finds us?"

Protectiveness surged within him. "I won't let him hurt you," Vafiél promised. Her weak smile said more than words could.

"It isn't your fault, Serana. You shouldn't blame yourself," Vafiél soothed her.

He watched as she bit her lip. "I know that in my head, but I just can't help feeling bad about… the way things are. If… If I hadn't listened… we might—might have had a chance."

"Oh, Serana." As she tilted her head away to hide her expression from him, he edged closer, drawing his arms around her. To his relief she acquiesced and leaned into him, sighing shakily. Lightning crashed somewhere in the distance.

He didn't want to let go. He wasn't sure if he could.

The small waterfall rushed on behind them and she clung to him desperately, whimpering softly with each exhale. It was so unlike her it unsettled him. Vafiél cradled her close to him as they caught their breath.

To think a broken bridge was all it would take to snatch away his only friend and companion… That scared him. It scared him more than he was willing to admit. Despite his best attempts, he'd become attached to her, and there was no undoing that now.

He sincerely hoped he wouldn't regret that mistake.

In grey predawn, she lay in his arms, asleep or awake he did not know. He knew only that he held her, that he had kissed her, that he had tied his own noose.

How terrible it is to love something death can touch.

"Serana," he whispered. She didn't move. "Serana." The healing spell sputtered and disappeared in his hands. It did nothing.

That strange and terrible power within him leapt out of his throat in the shape of a terrible, wordless Scream. The weight of it, the cracking ice and shattering air, trembling ground, fell upon the world like the Greybeards' call had.

The sun rose. Vafiél rued Time and its merciless currents. He cried. He agonised.

He prayed.