Volyn had never been so relieved to have his freedom. Harkon's powerful blood ran through his veins, dimming the hunger, but after so long, any in the Court would have been desperate. Then again, none in the Court would have had the patience or tact to not simply slaughter everyone.

Even Serana, who was usually so amiable, would have been at his throat had he been mortal. Instead, they had wrecked a bandit camp after leaving the caves. The dunmer couldn't imagine how awful the hunger must have been for her, even if she was a Daughter of Coldharbour.

So now it was the hunger that drove him to find a victim. He knew he was being followed. Watched. The spies of that red-haired woman were keeping an eye on him, it seemed. But he was a professional assassin, and he would find privacy easily enough.

The air here was bitter cold, just as it was in Skyrim. However, the air smelled different and the people were not the same. They were softer. They met strangers not with callous words and threats of violence, but simple wariness. He'd discerned that by observing them for a mere hour.

Volyn watched as they gathered around a fire, listening to a woman reciting verses from the 'Chant of Light'.

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

Since coming out of the Chantry, Volyn had kept to himself. People had been warned of him and he had been provided hooded clothes, since his were rather tattered. Even still, when someone happened to see his face or his eyes, he was met with various unkind responses.

That wasn't the only thing that worried him. The Inquisition had his gear, and he would need to find it all before long. His magical items were unfamiliar to these people and he didn't want them in strangers' hands. Especially Hermaeus Mora's black book.

But that was later. First, he needed to feed. The hunger would only wait so long.

His first order of business was to lose the spies. He pulled the hood low over his face, hiding his eyes as best as he could without blinding himself. It was dusk now too, which would help obscure his, apparently, unusual skin tone.

He walked the length of Haven to get the general lay of the land. He found the tavern, the alchemist, the blacksmith. The important places. Volyn wondered just what it was this town did, considering the largest buildings in town were the bar and the place of worship.

The tavern was crowded this time of night. People were eating, drinking, laughing, conversing; general tavern activities. Volyn was glad at least something around here was familiar. Although, he could do without the noise, and the smell of alcohol actually made his empty stomach churn painfully.

Gently, he maneuvered his way to the other door. It came out to the second main path through town, but it was clear of people now. With a couple more glances, Volyn made his way to a circle of buildings and slipped behind one of them, sandwiching himself between the building and the town wall.

Wasting no time, Volyn drew on his innate magicka. It was as natural for him as drawing breath; hardly needed much thought at all. It formed like a spectral purple mist in his hand, which he allowed to flow over him. He was invisible in a moment.

Good, his magic still worked here. Now all he had to do was find someone secluded.

The man was alone, standing by the half-built trebuchet. He was armed with a sword, but seemingly nothing else. Shivering, the man stood up, intent on walking around to warm his limbs.

Even from this distance, the vampire could smell that he was healthy. No one else was around. Here, alone and isolated, this sentry was a perfect target.

Volyn gathered a spell in his hand, aimed, and fired.

The unsuspecting sentry stumbled as the spell hit him in the back, just between the shoulder blades. For a moment, Volyn could see the dull green glow around the man, then it faded.

The spell affected the sentry powerfully. He removed his helmet, which appeared to be made of leather, like his uniform. He blinked several times and adopted a confused expression.

Someone under the effects of the Vampire's Seduction spell become susceptible to suggestions. So Volyn confidently strode out to the sentry, knowing he would be forgotten.

The sentry turned to him, but his expression never changed, as though he weren't quite comprehending what he was seeing. Volyn took this as a good sign.

"You don't need to worry about a thing," the vampire said softly, "Just relax."

At this gentle coaxing, the sentry's tight expression loosened. The vampire pressed on the sentry's shoulders with both hands.

Volyn said, "This will only hurt a moment. No need to worry."

The sentry nodded. He believed every word. No need to worry. He knelt, his face dropping to chest level with the stranger, knees on the ground and arms dangling.

The hunger was gnawing away at Volyn's patience, but he'd never been a ravenous feeder. Torn flesh and screaming victims were for lesser creatures. Still, his gaze lingered on the offered throat, unable to be drawn away. The vampire leaned in.

The sentry gasped and recoiled at the slight pinching sensation of the vampire's fangs, but Volyn's arms were already securely around him. One was looped behind his neck, while the other held the back of his head. The sentry wasn't going anywhere.

Then the pain was gone. The sentry stared, dazed, at the trees, mind empty of thought. He closed his eyes at some point and a warm, calm feeling washed over him. A memory came to the surface. He was a boy again and his mother's arms were around him. He felt safe and content.

For Volyn, this feeling was the same, though there was no childhood memory involved. Instead, his pleasure and security came from his lips on the skin and the hot blood running over his tongue. The hunger was waning, no longer occupying his every thought, no longer twisting his stomach into knots.

No, now there was only the warm, satisfying embrace.

The next thing the sentry knew, he was cold and leaned against one of the many large beams for the trebuchet. He was confused and annoyed at first. He wanted to go back to sleep, but this damnable cold was preventing that. Then he snapped to his senses and sat up straight.

Had he fallen asleep on sentry duty?

Mortified by his negligence, he scrambled to his feet and continued on his route.

But he couldn't shake the feeling of longing he had, even if he didn't know what exactly he was longing for.

Must have been some dream.

So that is the Breach, Volyn thought.

He was sitting atop the smith's house just outside Haven's wall. No one had noticed when he jumped up, his footfalls as light as falling snow. He wanted to get a closer look at what everyone had been talking about now that he wasn't distracted.

The tear in the sky was green and crackling with what he assumed was magical discharge. Large chunks of rock hung in the air, bobbing as though they were in water. He'd never seen anything quite like it and the power he felt resonating from it reminded him of the Eye of Magnus.

He was never a member of the College, but one of his associates had contacted him about it not long after the final fight with Alduin. He made the trip from the Dawnstar Sanctuary to Winterhold in the hopes of seeing this newfound oddity for himself.

On that trip, he'd even met a member of the Psijic Order, a high elf named Quaranir. Though the mer had been reluctant to tell him much, they'd briefly discussed various magical applications, designs, and flows. Unfortunately, he revealed nothing about the Eye itself.

Volyn's associate, however, was more forthcoming after everything was done. He still hadn't managed to transcribe any of the runes on the orb, which the Order took for safekeeping, but he kept the pages he'd received just in case.

The Eye had been just as strangely beautiful as the Breach and just as powerful. Even his spectral companion, Lucien LaChance, had sensed the Eye's power. He wondered if he would even be able to summon the ghost here in this other world.

In fact, he wondered if any of his other powers would work. He could still feel the dragon souls inside him. He still dreamed of their memories. But would the magic of his shouts still work? Would he be able to transform?

This isn't the place, he reasoned.

He would test his powers, eventually, but not near Haven. This 'Inquisition' was already very suspicious of him and he wanted to stick around here as long as possible. These people were informed, especially their spymaster, Leliana.

He was still on a mission, after all, and he never failed.