Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! My final exams eclipsed everything else this week. Enjoy!
Blood and Choice
Chapter 14
Oh, gods, Raema thought, straining futilely to lean away from Quarra's touch. Cold fear began to settle in her stomach. In the corner of her paralyzed vision, she could see Assurjan. He was watching her with anguish, held back by three of the guards. A sudden pressure made her headache increase threefold, and she wondered if Quarra had hit her with yet another spell.
"Irarak, bring her," Quarra ordered, and turned back toward Assurjan. Raema could only stare as Irarak approached, grasped her arms and half-dragged her away from the group of Hlaalu. She caught a glimpse of Jole, preoccupied, rubbing at his temple.
"My lady Ancient, I cannot allow this," Dram spoke up. "Raema was never part of our agreement. She is a member of House Hlaalu, and we owe her a debt for giving Assurjan to us. She is not yours to take."
"You are mistaken, mortal," Quarra said coolly. "Everything is mine to take."
In the silence, as the Hlaalu glanced at each other, Raema suddenly knew what that sense of pressure in her head meant. She had not expected to feel it again, not that strongly.
She saw the understanding sweep over Jole's face at the same moment. "Oh, bugger me," he breathed. "What have you done, Quarra?"
Irarak's grip on her arms shifted. I felt that! The spell is fading, Raema realized. Carefully, she wriggled her toes in her boots, feeling sensation returning. If she could fool Irarak long enough for the spell to dissipate, then-
"Wait," he hissed in her ear. "Wait, Raema."
She froze again, this time intentionally, her mind racing. Whose side was Irarak on? Had he dispelled the paralysis Quarra had laid on her?
The gathered Hlaalu were looking from Jole to Quarra, confused. Before any of them could speak, a sound drifted across the stronghold, carried by the evening breeze: muffled screams.
Raema could feel her extremities again, now, and Irarak was barely gripping her. She could see her sword, on the ground out of reach; she would have no time to retrieve it. But, maybe...
Bloody Oblivion, I should have practiced more, she thought, as she tried to remember the spells of Destruction that Assurjan had showed her.
Dram Bero was the first to realize what was happening in the stronghold, as the screams grew louder. "Quarra... you didn't," he said, horror dawning on his face. The others glanced worriedly over their shoulders, towards the stronghold entrance, still not understanding.
Quarra only smiled, showing fangs. "Why yes, I did," she said. "All the best Hlaalu who fought for me at Telasero... it was such a shame that they were wounded on my behalf. Of course I went to visit them after they were healed. It's good for morale, you know. A smile, a kind word, a pat on the cheek..."
She glanced back at the other Ancient. "Do you remember when your stronghold fell, Assurjan? When your clan was betrayed, and your people were murdered?" She asked sweetly. "That was exactly three nights ago."
One of Assurjan's guards gasped out a prayer as he finally understood- then the stronghold doors burst open, and scores of blood-maddened, desperate vampires poured out. The Hlaalu clustered around Dram cried out in dismay, turning to face their comrades who were lost in the hunger of newly turned vampires.
"Time to go!" Quarra called cheerily, and grabbed a fistful of Assurjan's robe, dragging him forward. "Come, Irarak." She waved her hand, the light of a spell beginning to sparkle around her.
"Now," Irarak hissed, shoving Raema forward. She stumbled, caught herself, and let loose the fire spell that she'd held ready. It roared across the open space, about the size of her fist- the best she'd ever managed to produce, by far. As Destruction spells went, it was not very big, nor very strong; but it was enough to interrupt the Recall spell when it struck Quarra's shoulder.
The Ancient snarled, whirling to face her. Raema glimpsed Jole, grabbing hold of Assurjan, just as she dove for her sword. Turning the dive into a roll, she sprang to her feet and tossed aside the sheath. Quarra lunged at her, her own glass sword flashing. Their blades crashed together, as the charging new vampires slammed into the first line of the mortal Hlaalu.
All around them, the night was torn by screams of mortals and vampires; shadows swung wildly as the Hlaalu used their torches for clubs. Raema had no time to take more notice of the larger battle; Quarra was fast, faster than Assurjan had been, in that duel below Telasero. The vampire pressed forward, and it was all Raema could do to keep her footing and defend herself. The glass sword crashed against her blade again and again, the force of each impact making her arms tremble. She just barely managed to turn the blows aside, moving by instinct, dimly aware that if she tried to think about what she was doing, she'd be dead.
She moved backward, trying to draw the vampire toward the stairs. The more distance between the two Ancients, the better. Quarra followed, slashing at her. Then Raema's heel struck an uneven patch, a stone loosened from the stronghold's masonry, and she stumbled back. Off balance, she couldn't block Quarra's sword as it swung for her head- so she dropped, hit the ground hard, winced as the breath was knocked from her lungs.
The vampire lunged at her. Raema threw herself to the side, rolled and scrambled to her feet, just in time to flinch back from the glass sword's next swing.
"You're forgetting something, Raema," Volrina said, conversationally, as if the sword fight caused her no exertion.
Fighting to regain her own breath, Raema did not reply. Where was Assurjan? She dared not risk a glance towards him. If she could just draw Quarra a little farther away, maybe Assurjan could free himself and-
"Do you know what you're forgetting?" The other Ancient continued, in a maddeningly sweet voice. She darted forward, blade lashing out, even faster than before. Raema just barely managed to turn aside the blow; Quarra's follow-through drew a line of flaring pain across her upper arm. She staggered back, fighting to keep a grip on her weapon.
"Let me show you," Quarra said, and raised her free hand. Too late, Raema realized what was coming, too late to dodge a second paralysis spell. Once again, she froze, helpless and numb. As quickly as it had begun, the pain in her wounded arm disappeared. Quarra stepped closer, and gripped Raema's chin in one hand, just as she had done to Assurjan.
"A pity," she murmured. "I would have enjoyed making Assurjan watch me torture you, little Bosmer. I'll have to settle for making him watch you die."
She lifted Raema's chin, and raised her sword. Over the vampire's shoulder, past the chaos of the fight raging between them, Raema could see Assurjan. He stood motionless, with a sword held slack in his hands, watching her with a horrified look on his face.
Quarra's sword moved, at the bottom edge of Raema's vision, from one side to the other. She's slitting my throat! Raema realized in a panic. Unable to move, unable to feel, she could only scream silently as Quarra's hands came away red with her blood. There was so much of it! I'm going to die, I'm dying, she knew, as the vampire gave her a final smile, and turned away.
The scenes of battle on the rooftop swirled, dizzyingly. She could not see Assurjan any longer, nor Jole. The short-lived spell was already fading as Quarra strode back toward the fight. Raema's shirt felt wet, clinging to her chest. She managed to roll her eyes down and look; blood soaked her front, spilling from her throat in a steady pulse. She let out a sob as the last vestige of the paralysis spell faded away, letting in the agony. Then her legs collapsed, the ground rushed up, and darkness fell around her.
Jole blinked in surprise as Raema's fire spell crashed into Quarra's armor. He had never seen her manage anything that strong before. Furious, Quarra whirled around, letting Assurjan go as she darted toward Raema. Jole seized the Juraene Ancient's arm before he could go after them. Bugger me if I leave tonight without one Ancient, he thought furiously.
Assurjan jerked free, lunged for one of the knives that were strapped to the hunter's belt. Jole caught his wrist, holding the blade in the sheath, and clubbed the vampire's ear with his other fist. Assurjan let go the knife and came back with an elbow, catching Jole's cheekbone, followed by a kick that the hunter barely avoided. Staggering back, Jole drew his shortsword.
"Don't be foolish, Ancient," he shouted, over the din of snarling vampires and screaming Hlaalu. "You don't-"
He cut off as Assurjan launched himself forward, not towards Jole, but at the body of a fallen Hlaalu who lay on the ground. Jole cursed and kicked at the vampire. Assurjan rolled to the side, came up on one knee with the Hlaalu's sword in his chained hands, blocked Jole's downward swing. The vampire fought to his feet, each blow of the long claymore making Jole wince. The vampire had far too long a reach with that weapon, and he didn't know how long his own little blade would last against it. They traded more blows, circling about each other, until something caught Assurjan's eye.
He stopped in his tracks, and the sword dropped, tip clanking on the stones. The vampire stared across the stronghold as if Jole was no longer there, their fight forgotten.
Frowning, Jole risked a glance over his shoulder. Raema was standing frozen, paralyzed once again, with Quarra's sword at her throat. "Oh, no," Jole breathed. Across the distance, her dark eyes were wide and terrified. Still paralyzed, she did not flinch as Quarra drew the blade across her throat. Blood spilled out, dark and glistening wet in the torchlight, enough that Jole knew the wound was fatal. She would be dead in moments.
Quarra turned back toward them, leaving Raema standing helplessly behind her, blood pouring down her front. There was a clang; Assurjan's claymore fell to the ground. At the look on Assurjan's face, Quarra smiled, and began to stride towards him. Then a cluster of Hlaalu, back-to-back as they fought off three vampires, stumbled in front of the Ancient. Snarling, distracted, she hacked at them.
Jole cursed vehemently, stunned. Raema was gone, or would be in moments. There was nothing he could do for her; he'd slit enough throats himself to know. The one thing he could do was exact vengeance on Quarra, if he could reach the Ancient while she was distracted. He reached for another blade, baring his teeth.
Before he could break into a run, Assurjan caught his arm with both hands. "Release me, Devan," he demanded urgently. "I can save her!"
Jole shook him off. "You're no healer, Ancient!"
"Not with these!" Assurjan snapped, holding up his shackled wrists. "There is no time, hunter. Please."
Jole glared at him, jaw clenched. The vampire stared back with stone-white eyes; they glinted with a wild, desperate look that Jole had never seen in the Ancient. Or in any Ancient, for that matter.
Unbidden, his wife's blood-streaked face rose up in his memory. Gods, what wouldn't he give to have had a chance to save her, all those years ago?
"For Raema," he grated, finally, and pulled the key from his pocket. "Save her, Assurjan, or I swear, you're next."
The vampire was fairly quivering as Jole unlocked the enchanted manacles. Before they hit the ground, Assurjan was gone, sprinting across the stronghold's rooftop. Jole watched the vampire go. He had never known Assurjan to have any ability at Restoration, but Vivec knew he had to do something, even if it meant letting the Ancient loose. He couldn't just let Raema bleed to death.
As Assurjan hurried to her side, Jole looked around at the chaos. Quarra's new vampires were winning, it seemed. Lost in the frenzied bloodlust of a first feeding, they outnumbered and overwhelmed the unturned Hlaalu. Bloody Oblivion, was that Crassius tearing the throat out of a Breton woman with his fangs? Grimacing, Jole snatched up the manacles and headed for Volrina Quarra. He could still take out one Ancient tonight, if he was lucky.
She had already slain the three Hlaalu, and was just rising from the fallen corpse of another, when Jole barreled into her. They crashed to the ground, and Jole went for her sword arm, driving his knife at her wrist. He missed, and the blade snapped on the stones. She swung the sword at him; and he just managed to block with a forearm against hers. He was not wearing a bracer; with the impact of her glass armor against his arm, his broken knife dropped from nerveless fingers. Cursing, Jole fumbled for purchase on the stones, hoping to pin her with his weight. Quarra threw him aside, smashed one gauntleted fist into his jaw. Lights exploded behind his eyes. Desperately, he shook his head, fighting to regain some clarity, as the vampire leapt for him again.
The manacles fell, and magicka- sweet, powerful, intoxicating- was within his reach once more. Wordlessly, Assurjan took off toward Raema. She had collapsed at the center of a pool of blood on Hlormaren's paving stones. Someone darted in front of him, dared to try stopping him; vampire or mortal, Assurjan did not pause to determine. Fire bloomed in his hands, the sweet force of Destruction that he had missed in the Redguard's manacles. He left a charred corpse behind and went on without slowing.
"Ah, gods, Raema," he breathed, dropping to his knees at her side. He gathered her limp body into his arms. The wound across her throat gaped open terribly, still slowly pulsing blood; the scent of it filled his nostrils, called to his instincts despite everything. He forced the hunger back. She's still alive, he thought, and looked up to find Quarra. She struggled with the Redguard, the two of them rolling across the stones and fighting like furious nix-hounds. Irarak was pelting towards him; whether to help Quarra or Raema, Assurjan could not tell. He had only seconds- no time to plan, no time to prepare. No time to think about how to combine the spells, to choose the best method.
No time to think about what he would do if he failed. If Raema died.
He reached out with his magicka for Quarra. She screamed in fury as he began to drain her; the power slammed into him, filled his vision with sparkling, blinding light. He was a conduit only; the power crackled through his body like lightning, surging, searching for a place to go. Without knowing exactly what he did, he sent it into Raema, just as he had done with the slaves. He could not see, but he was aware of the blinding force of Quarra's life, pouring into Raema. It roared in his head, drowning out all sound. So much strength, such power... too much for Raema, he realized. Like a dam breaking before a flooded river, she would not survive so much raging power. It was that excess that had killed the slave, he remembered distantly. But there was so much, pouring into him, rushing through him- so much! He could not stop it. Desperately, blindly, on some metaphysical level, he pushed at the flood of Quarra's life, guiding it away from Raema and into the next nearest person, whoever was the closest vessel to catch the overflow of power.
Irarak, he realized, as the strength of Quarra's life swept through him and into the other vampire. The flow intensified, as if Irarak were drawing on it, pulling in more. Assurjan gritted his teeth, struggling to control the torrent that raged through him. It was a losing battle. Irarak was drawing more than Assurjan could control; whatever he'd done to change the flow's path before, it was beyond him now. He could only fight back a scream as the power burned through him, melted holes in his skull, shattered him into countless shards, again, and again, and again-
And with a crash of thunder, it was over. The source of the surging energy snapped shut, leaving him empty. The roaring in his head fell silent, and he had a moment of vertigo, unbalanced and lost in darkness. Slowly, slowly, he came back, blinked away the darkness. His eyes cleared, and he gazed down at Raema.
Jole swung wildly at the vampire above him, managed to clip her jaw. Quarra snarled, and savagely sank her fangs into his hand- not feeding, just tearing at the flesh. Jole shouted, and gouged at her eyes with his other hand. She swatted it away, clamped her hand around his throat and squeezed. Jole drove his palm at the bend of her elbow, knocking her briefly off balance. He managed to hook his fingers under hers, pry them away from his throat. With a fierce grin, Quarra wrapped her other hand around his, crushing his fingers between her gauntlets, cutting off his air again. Panic began to set in as Jole's vision began to darken. He clawed frantically at her with his free hand, while the desperate pressure increased in his lungs, in his head.
Suddenly Quarra screamed, an unholy roar in the layered voice of a hungry vampire. She let him go abruptly, staggering to her feet. Coughing, Jole rolled away and came up in a crouch, staring at the vampire.
Quarra stumbled, still screaming, towards Assurjan, who knelt with Raema's limp form in his arms. The Hand's body was glowing, Jole saw. Even as he realized it, it grew brighter, and then blinding. All around him, the fighting staggered to a halt as everyone, even the blood-maddened vampires, watched in awe.
Only a few paces from Assurjan, Irarak staggered. As Jole watched, the vampire began to glow like Raema, growing brighter and brighter until he eclipsed her, and everything else in sight. Jole had to look away, shielding his eyes. There was a roaring like the wind in an ash storm, and Irarak's voice joined Quarra's in a mighty scream that echoed through the night. Thunder cracked overhead, deafeningly loud, though there was no lightning, only the brilliant light that flared out from Irarak.
Abruptly, it was over. Whatever Assurjan had done, it had taken only moments; Jole was still gasping for breath as the blinding light faded away. Just steps away from him, Quarra crashed to the ground as a withered, brittle husk. Her glass armor clattered hollowly on the stones.
Irarak was standing motionless, staring at his hands. Swirls of ethereal light clouded his fingers: magicka that, judging by his expression, he didn't know what to do with. Slowly, the vampire raised his eyes, staring at Assurjan.
The Ancient, meanwhile, was rising to his feet, cradling Raema in his arms. As he stood, one of the vampires to Jole's left moved suddenly, leaping onto the nearest Hlaalu and sinking fangs into the man's neck. Shouts rang out as the battle erupted again. Wearily, Jole reached for his last blade, tucked in his boot.
"HOLD!" Irarak bellowed, his voice ringing with sorcery. The shouts died out as every young vampire stopped moving at once. The first one who had moved was frozen, draped over the Hlaalu like a cloak, letting blood trickle down the man's neck as he glared toward Irarak. The Hlaalu fighters looked at each other, bewildered; Jole stared at Irarak, astonished.
That's not possible... Assurjan, what have you done?
The Juraene Ancient was gazing down at Raema, sparing no attention for anyone else on the rooftop. Raema's shirt was soaked in blood; some still dripped slowly from her dangling arm. But as Jole watched, she began to stir. Praise Vivec, he thought, grinning, as she lifted her head. She gazed up at Assurjan, and her fingers went to her throat. Gingerly, she felt at the place where Quarra had wounded her, now whole and healed.
Then her hand closed around the amulet she wore, and she and Assurjan disappeared in a final flash of light.