.

ROË

Homecoming

A cold, lonely shore

"I'll go check if I can steal a boat. You gonna be alright?"

Depended what Serana meant by 'alright'. 'Alright', as in, not going to keel over and die again, then yes, she was fine. 'Alright' as in, not feeling utterly miserable and alone, then no. Still, Roë nodded slowly.

Serana walked off, leaving Roë on the icy shore, the cold creeping into her wet boots. She only noticed vaguely, the memories of her last hope being shattered weighing on her mind. The vision of Agmaer, an innocent young lad who just tried to do the right thing, now lying dead with his pa's axe next to him. Just some farm boy who wanted to make a name for himself. Be a hero, maybe. Roë had taken all that from him, in a moment of abandon, not knowing her own strength. Kicked him straight off the battlements. There were people who enjoyed killing, who enjoyed the feeling of power that came with taking everything away from someone, but Roë wasn't one of them.

How she wished she could take back what she'd done. It seemed that part of humanity – uselessly wishing to turn back time – still belonged to her. Only the sad, empty, and painful parts remained. How Serana could be so light-hearted about it, Roë had no idea.

Was it all in her mind? These negative, self-tormenting feelings? Maybe she just acted and felt that way because she'd been told that Vampires were supposed to act and feel that way. Maybe just changing her attitude might work.

It was worth giving a try. Anything was worth giving a try if it meant even the smallest chance of not having to 'live' like this forever.

"Hey, Roë? Guess what?" Serana's voice sounded from a distance.

Roë pushed all the negative feelings deep down and forced a smile to her face. "You've found the occasion to rob some poor fisherman of his livelihood?"

"Hey," Serana said in mock apology. "You know what they say. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, but steal his boat and you, uh... teach him boat-building?"

Roë let out a fake chuckle, joining Serana at the small rowboat. "Well, he can always fish with a spear. So where we going? Across?"

"M-hm." Serana pointed to the distance. "See that uh... vague castle-like shape over there?"

Roë peered at the gray early morning sky and saw what looked like a turret before the clouds covered it again.

"Well, that vague castle-like shape, is actually – you'd never expect it – a castle. It's where my father lives. Uh, well... resides."

"Right. Think he'll be happy to see you again?"

Serana's face darkened as she stared out over the sea. "He'll be happy yes. But for the right reasons?"

Roë fought hard to keep the conversation on a bit of a cheerful tone. "Ooh, family drama?"

"Mmh, and not even a little bit. It's a long story," Serana said as she stooped to push the boat out to sea. "Let's try and get there before the sun's up. It's overcast but still, pretty unpleasant. Try not to get your tootsies too wet when you step in."

"Too late for that anyway. So, now we take a romantic rowboat ride on the foamy waves?"

"If you consider it romantic to be in an ice cold little boat, lashed by the wind, with a person of the same gender, then yes, this is the stuff of romance novels." She looked at her back pensively, but then said, "I'm sure this scroll will survive the occasional droplet of water." Why she lugged that scroll around, Roë didn't know.

She doubted the clouds would look so grey to her eyes if she were still alive. Probably not. For the living, even grey clouds had a bit of colour, a bit of yellow from where the sun's light warmed them where they were thin. The sea would have a slight green or blue hint to it. But not to Roë. She'd never known anything could be so grey. Even the drift ice was grey, surrounded by grey slush. And everything was so damn sharp. So damn defined.

They were in the Northern reaches of Skyrim, at the roof of Nirn. Even now, in spring, the cold was terrible, even worse than in Solitude. And somehow Roë didn't feel it as much as she would have in life. She wished she did.

Serana quietly rowed, not even asking Roë to help.

The castle came into view and damn it if it didn't look like the typical castles in illustrations of vampire books. Books Roë had always considered to be fantasy work. It was high, with thick walls, jagged spires and sharp parapets, constructed in black stone, on an island so small it looked like the castle just rose out of the sea. Tiny windows let flickering torchlight through, the flames cold and pale, with no warmth in them.

The boat ground to a halt on the stony shore, and Serana and Roë disembarked, still in silence, each thinking their own thoughts, and none of them pleasant.

"This is it, then," Serana said, looking up at the walls and battlements, the stone almost pure black. Roë's skin began to prickle and burn uncomfortably.

"See what my father has to say after not seeing me for... uh... a lot of years."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Roë said. "Hey uh, I'm getting a really serious burning sensation on my skin. That the sunlight?"

"Yes. It's almost up. A little longer and a little less clouds and you'll be weeping as your blood boils and your skin becomes searing hot." She made a guilty face. "Let's... not wait for that. Sorry about the hesitation, let's just head in."

"Will you be alright?" Roë asked as they quickly walked to the gates. There was a small tower beside them, but the gate to the actual castle was across a short bridge. The sea was under it and all around them, washing against the supports of the bridge as it had done for all eternity.

"I hope so," Serana said quietly. "My father and I, we... didn't part on good terms."

"Maybe all these years have given him the wisdom he needs to realize having his daughter back is the only thing that matters?"

Serana shrugged. "Possibly. But then I wonder why I was still in that sarcophagus after all those years."

"Uh... good point." Roë's skin began to feel inflamed and heat waves flushed through her. She thought she'd welcome a warm feeling inside after all this cold, but it wasn't a pleasant warmth. It was as if all the blood in her veins was slowly heating up to a boiling point. Which, if she could believe Serana, it probably was. There was no way she'd be able to see the sun like this, not with this pain. But she had to. She vowed to herself to look right into the sun one day, to feel its warmth on her skin, no matter how briefly or how painfully. To see flowers awake to the kiss of dawn, even for a moment.

"Hurting much?"

"I feel like I'm about to burst into flames," Roë grunted as they hurried across the bridge."

"Almost there. Don't worry, the sun won't kill you, but boy is it ever painful."

"Yeah, no cack."

"Come on, we're here." Serana pushed the heavy double doors open, and when Roë slipped inside the castle, she immediately felt her skin cool all the way down to the dead, icy cold it always had now, but that she'd already forgotten. She didn't know which was worse, the burning, scalding feeling of the sun, or the lifeless chill of death. It felt like being naked and wet in the winter air.

"Phew," Serana said. "I could use a snack now."

"Don't look at me," Roë tried to joke despite feeling utterly miserable.

"How many times are you gonna keep saying that?" Serana said with a grin. "I don't eat people who free me from sarcophagi, I told you."

"Good. Because I'd be slim pickings right about now. I'm... kinda hungry."

Serana nodded. "The sun'll do that to you. Don't worry, there's always a hot meal in Castle Volkihar."

Castle Volkihar was every bit as sinister on the inside as it was from without. The stones were just as dark, absorbing the light that came from the torches set into the walls. They were in the atrium now, and Roë assumed the main hall lay just beyond the double doors, made of dark wood and set with bronze bands. The colours here seemed a bit more saturated than they were in the rest of the world. Roë wondered if it was deliberate, if the vampires of this castle had made the colours extra bright to be able to see them like a normal person would, in a failed attempt at recreating something resembling life. She figured it wouldn't be an abnormal reaction.

Serana stepped up to the double doors and held her hands against them. "Ready to meet my father?"

"You say that like we're going to get married," Roë tried to keep their spirits up.

"I'm over a thousand years old, you're around twenty. That would be weird," Serana said with a grin. "Now come on. Let's go say hello. Oh, and just so you know, my father was old-fashioned even when he was alive, so... best to address him with Lord Harkon, and only when he speaks to you."

"Fine." Roë had other things to care about than having to observe etiquette.

Serana briefly closed her eyes. "Here goes."

The double doors swung open, into the main hall, where tables draped with bright red table-cloth were set in a U-pattern, and covered in plates, goblets, and dishes. On every plate, on every dish, in every bowl, lay raw, still-bloody meat, and every goblet was filled with a red substance that certainly wasn't wine. Several humanoid shapes sat at the tables, and their heads went up when the doors opened. Their mouths were smeared with blood.

A moment of silence fell as the pair stood in the doorway, all eyes on them.

"This is... not a warm welcome," Serana observed.

At length, one vampire stood up from the table, a heavy mace in her hand, and cautiously stepped towards them.

Serana promptly slipped into the guise of the dignified young noblewoman, so effortlessly Roë knew this wasn't an act, but another, very real side of her. "This is Lord Harkon's castle still, I presume?" Her nose in the air, she addressed the mace-wielding vampire like she was a servant. "Go fetch him."

The other vampire cocked her head, caught unawares by the haughty tone. She was young-looking, younger than Roë. Probably been made a vampire when she was still in her late teens. Of course, that meant nothing in respect to her current age and power. Above her sunken cheeks lay eyes that were as terrifyingly beautiful as Serana's, but somehow... less piercing, like a paler, weaker version. Despite the sunken cheeks though, her face still bore a youthful attraction. "And who may I say wishes to see him?" the vampire asked, her voice nasal and childlike, even to her young features. She asked it without hostility, obviously intent on playing it safe, which Roë estimated was a wise move.

Serana clearly wanted to identify herself as dramatically as possible. "Tell him someone long lost has returned, and that he should come see for himself."

"I don't think Lord Harkon would find it – "

"Fura, please," an Altmer vampire commanded, rising from his chair and striding to the two new arrivals. "Our guest is clearly important and shouldn't be bothered by your inane questions." The Altmer shooed the younger vampire away and when she didn't move, he simply stepped in front of her, prompting a furious glare at his back. "My name is Vingalmo, please forgive Fura's rudeness and allow me to escort you to our Lord." He had a narrow face, like all Altmer, but made even more so by his vampirism. His eyes seemed a bit more intense than the Nord girl's, but still nowhere near as blazing as Serana's, and even though they moved quickly, Roë caught them briefly straying to the Elder Scroll on Serana's back. This vampire clearly knew that this wasn't some ordinary visitor, not by far. "Your... bodyguard?"

Serana nodded. Probably the best way to play it, yes.

"... can stay behind for a refreshment."

"No," Serana said. "She comes with me."

"I'm afraid I can't allow – "

"Vingalmo," a male Nord vampire called out, stepping into the atrium. His voice carried more than a hint of hostility. "Stop badgering our guest."

Y'ffre's frock, how many times were these vampires going to interrupt each other?

The Nord vampire strode forward, as imperiously as the Altmer had before him. His face was fuller, still carrying the square-jawed robustness of the Nords, and his brown beard was rich and well-trimmed. "I will take you to see Lord Harkon, and your bodyguard is welcome to join." His eyes, too, strayed to the Elder Scroll too often to be a coincidence.

"Orthjolf, cease your meddling," the Altmer insisted. "Must we have these quarrels every time? And even in front of a guest this time?" The younger vampire girl meanwhile, stood behind them with her arms crossed, furious at being brushed aside, while a female vampire, older from the looks of her, stood up and hurried to the back of the atrium.

"When I see you treating guests poorly, I have no choice but to intervene," the bearded vampire said. "You do not serve our Lord by being inconsiderate to our fellows."

"What are you talking about," the other vampire bumbled in indignation. "We never allow retinue to have an audience with Lord Harkon. Proper conduct specifies that – "

"Please ignore Vingalmo here," the Nord vampire smiled at Serana. "He acts with our Lord's best interests at heart, but he relies overmuch on rules and regulations. Of course your retainer is welcome to join. Perhaps we can first offer you – "

"Orthjolf, that's enough! I will not suffer this impudence from you. Or must I remind you that – "

The hearty laughter that echoed through the main hall made both vampires instantly cease their bickering. "Orthjolf and Vingalmo, always arguing over how to serve me best. Please, my loyal advisors, let me take a look at our mystery guest."

The two vampires immediately lowered their heads and retreated, to make way for a female vampire and the one she'd fetched: a vampire, dressed in fine regalia, his dark brown hair combed neatly back, and a carefully trimmed goatee framing his noble lips. When he saw Serana, he stopped short, looking surprised, but not struck by lightning. As if her arrival was unexpected, but certainly not earth-shattering.

She greeted him with a curt, "Father."

The eyes of all vampires in the hall went wide.

The Vampire Lord held out his arms, but showed no intention to hold her. "My beautiful daughter returns. It's been so long since I've laid eyes on you, my child. Your return is most fortuitous. And I see you still have my Elder Scroll?"

Elder Scroll? Had Roë misheard it? Apparently not, since all the eyes went even wider. The thing Serana had on her back was an Elder Scroll, a daedric artefact said to reveal all of the past, future and present. They were things of legend, powerful beyond measure. No wonder the vampires had eyed it so greedily.

"I return after so many years," Serana said, sadness in her voice, "And this is the first thing you ask me?" She sighed, looking upset but trying not to show it. "But yes, I still have your Elder Scroll. Here it is."

Harkon took the scroll, holding it with eyes full of triumph. "If only your traitor mother was here to see this moment."

This only served to make Serana look even more heartbroken. Roë felt for her, almost as much as she felt for herself.

"And who is this stranger you have brought here before me?" the Vampire Lord asked, taking his eyes off the Scroll and setting them on Roë. "One of us, I see, but... also not."

Serana actually seemed happy to introduce her and change the subject. "This is Roë, father. She freed me from the seal. Without her, I'd still be there, in that sarcophagus."

Harkon ignored Serana's reproach and smiled at her. He was handsome and charismatic, almost impossibly so, and Roë could not help but feel awed in his presence. "Roë, then. I thank you from the bottom of my heart to return my daughter to me, as the Lord of this castle," his eyes briefly went to Serana's sad face, and he added, "And as a father, for I have missed her dearly."

"It uh... happened by accident, more or less, Lord Harkon." She hoped she hadn't said anything wrong, but a brief glance at Serana showed she hadn't.

"Accident or no," the Vampire Lord said with a grin, "You returned her to me, and for that I am grateful. So grateful, that I wish to make you a generous, but well-deserved offer."

"There's no need for – "

"Surely, there is," he interrupted her gently. "I see you have the gift, like us," funny he called it a gift, because so far it was anything but that, "but it has been given by one who was inferior." He cocked his head, inspecting her. "Unworthy. We can't have that."

"I'm... afraid I don't understand, Lord Harkon."

He smiled. "I will explain. Come, let us speak in private, you and my daughter."

Serana nodded at her and they followed Lord Harkon to his private audience chamber. Behind them, they heard Orthjolf and Vingalmo hissing at the female vampire, "Modhna, you fool! Why did you bring our Lord here? This was a task for one of us, not you!"

"I care not for politics," the female vampire simply replied. "I serve the Lord of the castle."

They went up the stairs in the back of the great hall, leading to a balcony overlooking the banquet. From there, they went straight on, through a large door, where a massive stone throne stood at the top of a low staircase, flanked by pillar galleries that made pointed arches. A stone fountain, spewing red, stood in the middle and high stained glass windows let in a little bit of light.

Harkon sat on the stone throne and said to Roë, "What you are now, child, is not what you could be. You were infected with vampirism. It was passed to you like a sickness. By a mongrel, a weak and feeble-blooded creature, and so much potential of your blood is lost. Have you been a vampire long?"

"No," Roë replied, "Lord Harkon. Only a few days." She felt a wave of sadness wash over her when she remembered that she'd been alive, a few days of eternity ago.

Harkon turned to Serana. "Has she seen herself in a mirror yet?"

"No, father," Serana replied quietly. "I... didn't think she was ready."

It was the first time Roë had thought about it. Like these vampires, she too would have changed. Her cheeks would have sunk, her skin stretched tight over her skull. Dark rings would have formed around her eyes, and the eyes themselves... they would be like the wild vampires she'd fought in Dimhollow Cavern. Bloodshot, reflecting the light in eerie red. Not these burning embers of terrible beauty like Serana and her father had. His were even more blazing, the power that radiated from them was enormous.

"I don't... need a mirror to know I'm not like I was when I was alive... and nothing like you either," Roë said, looking at the ground.

"It doesn't need to be this way, child," the Vampire Lord said gently. "This is why I offer to share my gift with you. The gift only I have, not even Serana. That of the Vampire Lord."

She had to ask. "If I were to refuse, what would happen then?"

He shrugged. "That would mean you are my enemy. I would let you leave with your life out of gratitude for returning Serana, but only once. Next time we met, I would extinguish you like the mongrel you are."

Roë shot a look at Serana, who gave a neutral look in reply. Did she want this? She didn't know. But... what did she have to lose? She was already damned, better not to be damned and a mongrel. She didn't have to think long. "I accept, I suppose. Not like this can get any worse."

Harkon smiled again, his smile captivating, so much that it somehow made Roë feel better to be its recipient. "It will be easier as time goes on. You still cling to your old life, as we all did, but things will change. Now then, let me bestow upon you the gift of the Vampire Lord. Come."

Feeling empty inside, Roë stepped forward to the throne as Harkon rose.

"Do not be afraid, child," he said. Before her eyes, the Lord of the castle bared his teeth, and as Roë looked on, his muscles bulged, he increased in size, and his hands elongated into claws, until there was a wet ripping sound and blood flew into Roë's eyes, with such force that she was blinded and had to stagger back.

When she wiped the blood from her eyes, the Vampire Lord was no longer recognizable. He was a terrifying monster, standing well over two and a half metres tall, floating in the air, even though the wings that had sprouted from his back looked vestigial and in no way capable of allowing him to fly. His skin was gray and leathery, stretched over the powerful-looking muscles, and his face was monstrous, a horned, horrifying visage that looked more like a daedra than a vampire, terrible fangs the length of her middle finger set into its mouth. His clothes had been torn away by the transformation, lying in shreds beneath his feet, leaving only a red loincloth.

As Roë looked on, paralyzed, the creature of glorious terror extended a clawed hand at her, took her by the shoulder, pulled her close, and drove its fangs into her throat. She felt her tendons tear as the teeth dug in, and a blast of power rushed through her, so strong her muscles went taut and she let out a long, wheezing cry. Her eyes were wide open, but she was utterly blind, and though the pain was incredible, it was completely smothered by the blasts of power pumping through her.

Then, ripping her neck muscles even further, the fangs tore away and the claws let go, leaving her to fall on her behind, and from there, onto her back, and she fell into darkness.