.

ROË

Chasing Echoes

Castle Volkihar

"Come on, bathrobes, time to meet the parents."

The Moth Priest was surprisingly docile, not exactly what Roë had expected. Sure, she and Serana had saved him, in a way, but the man was no idiot. He must know he'd gone from the frying pan into the fire. But still, he didn't resist, didn't try to escape, didn't even complain. Even in the boat, with the ice cold wind lashing him through his flimsy linen robes, the man hadn't griped or shown any discomfort. Roë doubted his resignation was so profound that he didn't even express his disapproval at his capture.

Now they were on the steps of Castle Volkihar, and still the robed man followed without a fuss, his hands stuck in his sleeves to protect them from the cold. It was the only response he gave to the violence the elements were pelting him with.

And now he was on the way to meet Serana's father. A fate which couldn't possibly be pleasing to look forward to. Still he met it stoically, his eyes cast down at the snow around his feet.

Roë had a few possibilities in mind why the Moth priest was so tame, but the most likely one was that, even though he knew that something terrible awaited him, the prospect of actually being allowed to read an Elder Scroll was enough to make him accept whatever it was that lay in store for him. When he'd outlived his usefulness, Roë didn't think that he'd be dropped off at the shore with a knapsack, a handful of septims and a peck on the cheek.

Serana had him by the collar, but there was really no need. He followed on his own, even when Serana opened the doors to the castle with a simple, effortless push of her hand. She was regaining her power in leaps and bounds now, and despite what Serana herself claimed, Roë didn't think she'd be any match for her friend if they ever had to face each other as enemies. Not that they ever would.

The voices in the hallway, as always, fell silent when Serana and her bodyguard (of sorts) entered. Modhna, the apparently loyal vassal, immediately leapt to her feet and rushed off to find her master. Roë was surprised she hadn't learned how to bark yet. Serana still held the Moth Priest by the collar, but there was still no need, so she let him go.

Basking in the awe of the lesser Vampires, Serena stood statuesque and dignified, looking breathtaking. As if she didn't always.

At length Lord Harkon made his appearance, striding into the great hall with a broad, beaming grin on his face, his arms outstretched. "My wonderful, beautiful daughter returns, along with her loyal bodyguard."

Roë started to resent being referred to as a mere bodyguard all the time.

"I had expected none other to complete the task I set you all out to do." He turned around, his cloak sweeping behind him, and addressed the Vampires sitting at the tables. "While you were strategizing, planning, studying maps and sending out scouts to find a Moth Priest, my daughter took action, and now returns, her mission complete, while you lot haven't even started."

Both Roë and Serana chose not to comment on the fact that he gave them very private, very specific, and very helpful information while leaving the other Vampires to figure it out on their own. They also didn't care to mention that technically, another Vampire had found the Moth Priest before them.

Lord Harkon was happy, and that was all that mattered. Because if Lord Harkon was happy, then Serana was happy. And if Serana was happy, well, then so was Roë. As happy as was possible for a walking cadaver.

"You have done well once again, my dear," Harkon told his daughter. "You fill your old father's heart with pride."

"Good," she simply replied. "That means we've earned a rest, doesn't it?"

Harkon's grin broadened even further. "Indeed you have, my dear. You and Lady Roë must be exhausted. Namasur will doubtless have a thrall or two ready for you. Your rooms have, naturally, been prepared." Then he said to Roë, "Lady Roë, since you expressed the desire to keep your current quarters occupied for the time being, I have taken the liberty of instructing my staff to give your sleeping accommodations a much-needed bout of maintenance. I trust it's to your liking?"

"Oh. Uh, thank you Lord Harkon," Roë replied, trying to sound as formal as possible. "That's very considerate of you."

"Think nothing of it," he said magnanimously. "Sleeping in a bed…" he ruminated. "To us, it seems a bit… nostalgic, perhaps? Somewhat… reluctant to close a chapter in one's book of life, and unlife." His expression darkened. "It would serve you well to let go of your past life, and embrace your new existence. Those who cling to a past life make things… difficult."

"With all due respect, Lord Harkon, I... don't think holding on to humanity is necessarily a bad thing. I… appreciate your concern, Lord Harkon", Roë said carefully, "but for now I feel more comfortable sleeping in an actual bed."

"I hope you will be able to move forward in due time, however?" Harkon asked.

Roë opened her mouth to speak, but Serana answered in her stead. "Though powerful, Roë is still young, father, let's not forget that. Compared to our existences, hers is but a sigh, a mere droplet in a waterfall. In our venerable age, we sometimes forget how new things are to those we bring into the fold, don't we father?"

Lord Harkon was silent for a moment, but then grinned again, and said, "Yes, of course. Still, I do hope you'll take my advice to heart, Lady Roë. Wishing for a lost life will not avail you, as you are now, and will only cause pain."

"I'll… give your words the thought they deserve, my Lord," Roë merely said, not wanting to lie, but hoping not to offend this almost godlike being in front of her. He probably said it out of concern, but still, not acknowledging his 'caring advice' might be dangerous.

"Good. I do hope so. Now, please, enjoy your well-deserved rest."

"Thank you, father."

"Thank you, lord Harkon."

"And you, Moth Priest…" the grin on Harkon's face went from winning to diabolical, and he put his hand on the Priest's shoulder, clenching it so hard the man had to wince. "You and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart. I do hope threats of physical discomfort or the enacting thereof will not be necessary?"

"We both know I will read the Scroll for you anyway, whether I resist or not," the Moth Priest said, first time he'd spoken since they'd 'liberated' him from the other Vampires. "I might as well do it freely, instead of first suffering the torments of Oblivion, and then reading it to you."

"Good man," Harkon growled at him, shaking his shoulder. "Knowing one's own weaknesses is the first sign of true wisdom, is it not?"

"Spare me the false flattery, Lord Harkon."

"You wound me, Priest. Modhna!"

The so-loyal-it-was-slightly-creepy Vampire stepped forward with a short bow.

"I will escort the Priest to our library, where he can work in peace." He made a dismissive gesture. "Arrange for some… oh, I don't know, a selection of quality human food, yes?"

Another short bow. "At once, my Lord."

Roë felt Serana tug her sleeve. "Come on. This'll take a year anyway. Let's get some snacks."

They walked to the dungeons, where Namasur kept his thralls. When they were out of earshot, Roë asked, "Why did you cut me off when I answered your father?"

Serana looked at her as if she thought Roë had just asked the stupidest question ever. "Because you were about to make your existence here very difficult, maybe?"

Roë blew. "What are you talking about? Your father was just trying to express his concern."

"Concern?" Serana asked incredulously. "Roë. My dear, sweet Roë. My father's been around for thousands of years. Not only is he absolutely not concerned about anyone but himself, but after so many years, he rarely communicates directly. He rarely says things flat-out. It's always what's underneath the words."

Roë stopped and blinked. "Serana, what do you mean?"

Her friend put her hands in her sides and looked at her like she was being obtuse. "Roë. Saying you'll make things difficult? Expressing his 'hope' that you'll move on? Saying it'd cause you pain to cling to life? That wasn't concern. He didn't mean you'll make it difficult for yourself. He meant you'd make it difficult for him. And he didn't mean you'd cause yourself pain, he meant he would. That was a threat, Roë."

"What, as in…?"

"As in, let go of all your humanity or else."

"Why would he want me to – "

"Because humans have emotions. They have wishes, dreams, hopes. They have love, joy, ambition. Vampires like him, who have grown so old? They no longer have any of that. All they have is power, and lust for more power. Vampires who long for human emotions, who hold on to their humanity are the very things he despises, because he thinks that Vampires who cling to life will do anything to feel a semblance to it, including betraying him and our kind. Any Vampire who doesn't mirror himself to him is a liability at best."

"But that's ridiculous!" Roë blurted out.

"Is it?" Serana asked, her hands in her sides. She looked casual, but Roë knew that look concealed something else. "Tell me, Roë. What wouldn't you do to return to life? To what lengths wouldn't you go?"

Roë had never seen her friend like this. The look in her eyes was not suspicion. It was the look of someone who not only considered her capable of betrayal, but who had already determined their guilt before it had even happened. "I… I'd…."

"You'd certainly murder every single Vampire here with your bare hands if you had to. Including my father. Including me."

"Serana, I'd never – "

"Don't try to deny it," Serana said, still sounding like she was talking about the weather, but her eyes told different. "Fledglings like you, you'd do anything, destroy anyone, just to get a brief taste of life again." The condemnation went out of her eyes somewhat. "And it's not even your fault, you know? You're just… young and stupid. And you're – ""

"Serana," Roë interrupted her, shaken by her friend's sudden accusations, no matter how casually they were made. "I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you. I don't care what else you suspect I'd do, but never that. I… I promise." It was an easy vow to make, she realized to her sadness. The opportunity would never present itself anyway.

Her words did get through to Serana, however, and she backed down. "Never say never, Roë. I'd rather you realized the temptation is real, or would be real, than to assume you'd never ever betray me for any reason whatsoever."

"Serana. Stop talking like this. It's moot anyway, right?"

"Right." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Roë, my father makes me so moody sometimes."

"It's alright," Roë said quietly. "Fathers sometimes do that." It was best to put it behind them, so she asked, "So, your father told us to see Namasur?"

"Yes," Serana remembered, instantly back to her old, bubbly self. "Yes, we can use a little boost. Think you're ready for some live prey?"

Roë felt her face pull into an insecure mask. "I… don't know. After what happened – "

"True, true," Serana interrupted her. "But you'll have to learn sometime. Better in a controlled environment, no?"

"I… suppose?"

Serana look away, saying more to herself than to Roë, "I should have started you off with that. Was careless of me to just throw you in the deep end."

"Well, it's no disaster, is it?"

Serana turned back to her, jerked from her thoughts. "That you overfed once? No, not on its own. Just… you know, not too often."

"Well… suppose it's best to practice then, right?"

With a nod, Serana said, "Let's go. Namasur usually just drains the prisoners and then brings the blood up, bottled, but we might as well have a drink from the source now that we have the chance. It's… not really good manners, but hey," she winked at Roë, "we are nobility."

Namasur stood at the bottom of the stairs, his face becoming embarrassed when he saw Serana and Roë. Well, probably just Serana. "Dear Ladies, I… hadn't expected you to make a trip to the dungeon!"

The dungeon was just that, a sort of warden's office in front, and then, down a few steps, a corridor with prison bars on either side, prisoners of all races and genders standing behind those bars, looking at the visitors with vacant eyes. The place stank incredibly. Straw pallets were the only furniture in the cells, apart from a slop bucket, and judging from the shit caked on the insides of some of the prisoners' legs, they weren't even lucid enough to use it. These people were little more than walking corpses.

"I must apologize for the foulness of the prisoners," Namasur immediately rushed to say. "Had I known your Ladyships were coming, I would have cleaned them up. But you can understand how cleaning the filth that these repulsive creatures expel can be a fulltime job."

"Why are they…" Roë asked, having the utmost difficulty to find her words, "… so dazed? Why aren't they… at least cleaned up?"

"Once more, Lady Roë," Namasur began again, "My sincerest apologies. I would have cleaned them if I'd known you were coming. I understand that you should not deign to feed from creatures so repulsive, but alas, there are only so many hours in the night and – "

"That's not what I mean," Roë interrupted him, hearing her voice grow louder. "How can you… neglect these people this way?"

Namasur stood utterly transfixed in surprise. "But… but Lady Roë, they're just…"

"Just what?" Roë dared him. "Humans? Animals? Cattle?"

"Roë, take it easy," Serana said, trying to calm her down.

But every time Roë looked at the prisoners, she became more upset. Most were in a state of pure walking death, and those that weren't, were barely aware of their surroundings, occasionally moaning quietly. They all showed signs of serious physical abuse, as well as neglect, but Roë did remark that they all seemed well-fed and hydrated, and mostly free from disease aside from the occasional sore or infected wound . But she harboured no illusions, it was only done to make the blood safe and good-tasting. The Vampire who drank the bottled blood in the atrium didn't care how much filth had clung to his donor. These were people. Some were even children. "Where do you even get these people? Do you kidnap them? And don't even think about lying to me that they're volunteers!"

"We… we abduct them from a young age," Namasur said, still taken aback, holding his palms out in front of him to defend against Roë's wrath.

"You… you what?" Roë asked, barely containing her anger.

"Roë," Serana tried again. "I agree that Namasur is somewhat neglectful in his duties," she shot him an angry look, "but we shouldn't be naïve either. The blood has to come from somewhere."

"But… Serana!" Roë protested. "From a young age! That means… most of these people have never even seen the outside world!" She looked again at the prisoners, and it only strengthened her outrage. "Look at them, Serana! How hard can it be to treat these people somewhat humanely?"

"Roë, let's talk about this in private. We – "

"No, Serana, I don't want to talk about this in private, we – "

She felt Serana grab her elbow, and a strange feeling came over her, as if she suddenly wanted to comply, even if she didn't. "Roë. In. Private."

As Roë felt her will weaken and followed her friend, Serana jabbed a finger at Namasur. "Namasur, you're a loyal vassal of Lord Harkon, and I praise you for it. But this incident should not reach his ears, is that clear?"

"I… perfectly, Lady Serana," Namasur said meekly, bowing his head.

"Come on, Roë."

She followed, even though she wanted to stay and give Namasur several more pieces of her mind, up the stairs and back to the dead-end corridor they'd already used to connive before.

"Roë," Serana said, looking like she was trying really hard not to lose patience. "I understand how this was painful to watch. And I agree that while we are Vampires, we should still treat our thralls more humanely than this. But what you did just now – "

"You just said you agreed!" Roë snapped, the strange sensation of weakened will now gone.

"Listen to me," Serana bit back. "If my father hears about this, what do you think he'll conclude? Hm?" When Roë didn't answer right away, she continued, "He'll decide that you're too human. Too attached to life, to humanity. And he'll take steps to rectify that. By punishing your humanity out of you. If you're lucky."

"You're exaggerating," Roë said quietly, looking away. "Your father gave me all this power, it means he – "

"Sees potential in you, yes. And he does, I do too. But where I see potential in you as an ally, as a confidante, as an equal, he sees something else. You're not an ally to him, not family, not nobility, much as he loves to say you are. He'll give you power as long as you're not a threat to him. Give you praise as long as you're useful. But the moment he considers you dangerous, or treacherous, or, as is the danger here, unreliable, then… well, he won't hesitate for even a second. He feels no genuine affection for you, Roë. It's all chess to him, and you're nothing but a pawn."

"So you say," Roë said back. "But maybe he – "

"Roë. People like him? They don't make friends. They don't care about things like morals or ethics. I'm his daughter, so that's different, but please, please understand that you shouldn't antagonize him. I don't want him to decide you're a liability. Because whatever it is that would happen to you then, it… wouldn't be pretty."

Roë knew Serana was right, much as it hurt her to admit. Harkon had given her this power because it had served his plans to do so, no more. But still… She couldn't just leave these people there. "What about those prisoners, Serana? I don't care how old you are or how little you think of humans, this kind of thing is inexcusable."

Serana looked away, thinking. "It is. Just because we're monsters, doesn't mean we should act the part. But let me take the matter up with my father. I'll… come up with some idiocy about how the blood will taste better if we clean and air the prisoners regularly. It's not much, but it's all I dare."

Roë nodded, knowing she'd have to be satisfied with so little. "Thanks. Seeing these poor people get treated so horribly, it just…"

"Yes, well, don't ever let my father hear you say that."

"Mm."

Serana looked back and the stairs and said, "I told Namasur to keep this quiet, but you can bet he's going to tattle as soon as he has the opportunity. So you're already on thin ice, Roë. I'll probably be able to make the case that you're young, and remind him that you're… well, an investment. Of sorts. But I can't keep doing that forever."

Modhna had appeared in the doorway. "Your Ladyships, Lord Harkon requires all Vampires' presence in the great hall. The Moth Priest is ready to read out the scroll."

Serana blinked. "Already? That was fast."

With a thin smile, Modhna merely commented, "Lady Serana, your father's charisma and personable nature can speed up any endeavour."

"It seems even after all this time, I can still underestimate him," Serana said in feigned cheer.

The rejoined the other Vampires in the great hall, with its dark wooden tables splattered with blood, its golden candelabras and dark red stained glass windows. On the balcony, overlooking the great hall, stood Lord Harkon with his 'willing' prisoner, the bald, bearded Moth Priest in his linen robes. Harkon held the Elder Scroll firmly in his hand. Looking around, Roë recognized Garen Marethi, who nodded at her in greeting, Hestla the armourer, her face and apron still black with soot, Fura, whose task at the Castle seemed to be security, judging by the rather heavy mace she carried at all times and the patrols she made in and around the building, and others she knew but not by name.

"My loyal subjects," Harkon addressed the Vampires. Roë's eyes briefly went to Orthjolf and Vingalmo, each in his respective corner, looking pensive. "The Elder Scroll and the Moth Priest are finally found, thanks to my wonderful daughter, and our good friend, Dexion Evicus," he clapped the Moth Priest on the shoulder, "will read the Elder Scroll out to us. Moth Priest, commence."

The Moth Priest took the Elder Scroll from Harkon, took a moment to close his eyes and take a breath (how Roë envied him), and unrolled the Scroll.

If the occupants of Castle Volkihar still breathed, they would be holding their breaths now, to a one. An Elder Scroll was being read… this hadn't happened in, what, centuries? The hall was so quiet one could hear a drop of blood hit the ground.

The Moth Priest stood motionless, only his eyes moving, and then he threw back his head, holding the Scroll out in front of him.

"I see… a vision before me!" he exclaimed. "An image of… of a great bow. I know this weapon! It is Auriel's Bow!"

Right below the balcony, Modhna stood, transcribing the Moth Priest's reading word for word.

"Now… now a voice whispers," Evicus called out. "Saying, 'among the night's children, a dread Lord will rise'…"

Harkon became even more attentive at the mention of what was most likely his person.

"In an age of strife," the Moth Priest went on, his eyes no longer on the Scroll, but fixed on the ceiling. "When dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light, and the light and day will be as one. The voice… the voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort."

Harkon frowned with concern, but didn't intervene.

"But wait, there is more here! The secret of the Bow's power is written elsewhere. There is… I believe there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other Scrolls." Brief silence. "Yes… Yes I see them now! One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood."

His arms lowered the Elder Scroll and his gaze too, came down. "My vision darkens, and I see no more. To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two Scrolls."

Harkon took the Scroll back from the Priest, and when Roë saw the man's arms feeling around, his eyes wide open but vacant, she realized it hadn't been his figurative vision darkening, but his literal one.

"He's… gone blind?" Roë whispered to Serana.

Serana merely nodded. "The Scrolls weren't really meant for any of us to read, mortal or Vampire. Most go blind instantly if they try, or go insane if they manage to read a single word. There's even stories of people being obliterated by a Scroll. These Moth Priests supposedly spend their lives just learning how to read them, and even they go blind if they do it too often. Though this guy…" she looked at the Priest on the balcony, cocking her head, "… seems to be a bit of a pushover."

"Lord Harkon," the Moth Priest called, his voice carrying an edge of panic. "I was not suitably prepared. I was too hasty. But I know of a way to read the other Scrolls. A ritual, a – "

"Quiet, Priest," Harkon threatened. "There's no need to announce this to the entire assembly. Modhna!"

"Yes, Lord Harkon?"

"Take the Priest and the Scroll .back to the library. No one speaks to him until I do. No one, not even you."

"Certainly, Lord Harkon."

"Fura!"

The young-looking Vampire jerked to attention at the calling of her name. "Yes, Lord?"

"I want you and the two death hounds at the door to the library at all times. Anyone asks to be let in, you report it to me. Anyone makes an attempt to get by you, you and the hounds tear them limb from limb, understood?"

The Vampire struck her chest with her fist. "As you command."

"Daughter?"

With considerably less deference and considerably less enthusiasm, Serana said, "Yes, father?"

"I would speak with you and the Lady Roë."

Perhaps it was Roë's imagination, but when he mentioned her by title, she could have sworn she heard some derision in the word 'Lady'.

Serana only sighed. "Of course you do." When they approached the balcony, Serana told Roë out of the corner of her mouth, "Figures we're the ones jumping through the hoops again."

"Daughter, you've heard the Moth Priest," Harkon announced gravely as he led his daughter and her 'bodyguard' back to his throne room. "We require two more Elder Scrolls."

"Oh, if that's all," Serana said sarcastically.

"Indeed. Though, finding them may be considerably easier than you would suspect. I have reliable leads on both of them." He chuckled, "Helps when you've had a thousand years to prepare."

"I assume you want us to follow up on them?" Serana said, sounding bored, and already knowing the answer.

Harkon stopped walking. "Daughter, you're the only one I can trust with this. All these others, they'd betray me as soon as they found a way. But not you. You're the only one I can rely on."

Serana sighed again. He was clearly laying on the guilt as heavily as he dared. "Fine. So where do we go?"

He looked around to make sure no one had followed. "One of the Elder Scrolls is safe, to a degree, in the bowels of a long-forgotten Dwemer ruin. The other, I suspect," he looked away and his face became bitter, "lies with your traitor mother."

Roë couldn't help but ask, "'Lies', as in, she has it, or 'lies', as in, it's entombed with her?"

"Sadly," Harkon said, bitterness sounding through in his voice. Roë realized this may be the first and only time he displayed genuine emotion. "Sadly, Serana's mother is most likely undead and well, but she has stolen the Elder Scroll I had long ago obtained, and then disappeared. Find my traitor wife, and you will find the Scroll."

"Once again it falls to us, I see," Serana sighed. "After being lost for centuries, I return only to be sent away time and again. It's a strange thing, a father's love."

Roë began to suspect that Harkon's manipulative and manoeuvring nature did not stop at family members, like Serana thought, at all. And surely Serana herself must have an idea too.

"We'll do as you ask, father," Serana said wearily, raising her hand in resignation. "But we need a meal, and rest, first. I'm not going anywhere without proper rest, and that means a few days. And neither is Roë."

Harkon's face very briefly darkened at the defiance, but then his grin returned and he said, "Of course, my daughter. I've waited centuries to fulfil the prophecy. Surely I can wait a few days more."

"Good. Come on, Roë."

As they walked to their rooms, Serana just shook her head and said, "More fetching to do. You'd almost think my father doesn't want me here."

"I'm sure he really does think you're the only one he can trust," Roë said, aware that she was playing the daedra's advocate.

"And whose fault is that?" Serana asked. "If you don't trust anyone around you, then maybe it means there's a reason for their disloyalty."

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. Actually."

Eager to change the subject, Roë asked, "So uh, what do you want to do with your time off?"

Serana took her by the sleeve again and led her to their usual dead-end corridor, dark and out of sight. "Actually, I don't want any time off. Not really. I want to do some digging."

"Digging?"

She leaned in even closer. Roë could feel her breath on her cheek. Well, not her breath. Just the air she expelled when she spoke. "My father's up to something. He's just too eager, too fixated on this whole prophecy thing. I don't know exactly what he's got planned, I can't put my finger on it, but there's a reason he's so secretive. Too obsessed with the prophecy."

"What kind of reason would there be?"

She looked away, gnawing at her lip. "I don't know. But I do know one thing."

When she didn't continue, Roë asked, "… yes?"

"I need to talk to my mother."

"Well that's good," Roë said with a shrug, "because we're going there anyway."

"Yes, but…" she looked back down the corridor again, then whispered, so exaggeratedly it was almost comical, "… we'll be doing it without my father knowing."

"Really? I mean, isn't that – "

"Dangerous? Disloyal? Yeah. But I need to do this. I need to talk to my mother, because my father can call her a traitor all he wants, but… well, that's his take on things. Might not necessarily be the truth. You're with me, right?"

Of course she was. How could she not. "Yes. I'm with you. But I really hope you know what you're doing."

She nodded. "So do I. And thank you. For now, we need a rest though. Sun's almost up. No point burning our pretty skins."

She was right. Dawn was lighting up the horizon, and much as she'd loce to stay and watch the sun come up, she couldn't. Not ever.

Only a single candle lit the room, but when Roë used it to light the other lanterns, she noticed that indeed, Harkon had had her room taken care of. Where before, it was a dusty, empty room with only cobwebs and a bed, now it was a well-furnished and cleaned bedroom with night stands, freshly made bedding, and a table and chair for writing or working. It looked a lot better, but it was of little comfort, since all she wanted to do was sleep in a bed at night and walk around during the day. But the day was no longer for her. The rest of her existence was candles, lanterns, and torches. No real light, just varying degrees of gloom.

With these thoughts still stabbing at her dead heart, she fell on her bed and off existence.

No Serana wake-up service this time, she awoke on her own just after nightfall. With a sigh, she swung her legs out of bed and sat up. Candles. Lanterns. Nu sun flooding in through the shutters. Not ever.

She stood up and looked down at her body. Naked, pale, cold and dead. She still slept under the blankets although they had no heat to retain. Another former human habit she couldn't shake. Harkon would disapprove.

She realized it was only a matter of time before he saw her as a danger and removed her. Serana was right, this man didn't make friends, didn't uphold loyalty. Perhaps if Serana could be convinced to stand up against her father… after all, she was already having her own suspicions so it probably wouldn't be so difficult to convince her to either abscond, or confront her father. Roë didn't want to flee the castle on her own, and confronting Harkon without Serana would be sheer suicide – something she would welcome, but the power of her blood would not allow it.

She was starving, now that she thought of her blood. Strangely, the empathy she'd had for the prisoners had shrunk, making way for an oppressive, domineering feeling of hunger. She'd gladly grab the shit-caked, lifeless thralls, feel the poor wretches kick and struggle in her arms, and suck them dry until there was only skin and bones to feed to the hounds.

Serana announced her presence by a knock on the door, and Roë got dressed and let her in.

"Hungry?"

"Desperately," was all Roë could say.

"Brought you something!" She held two vials of still-warm blood. "Freshly drained."

She didn't want any blood from a vial. She needed something better. "No vials. I want to feel a living person's blood run down my chin." She realized the hunger made her say strange things, but she couldn't help herself. "Feel warm blood run down my body." Her fangs felt sharp in her mouth, she was so aware of them they almost hurt.

"Whoa," Serana stopped her, looking a mix between cheerful and concerned. "If you're talking like that, you definitely need a vial before we practice on a living person. In fact, take both of them."

"I don't want – "

"Stop fussing, take them. Seriously." Laughing like a parent would laugh at a child that doesn't know what it's doing, she said, "And stop baring your teeth at me, you animal."

She wasn't even aware her lips were pulled back from her teeth. And as much as the hunger tried to tell her otherwise, she knew Serana was right. She'd have to drink from a vial or two to calm the worst of it before setting her fangs into a live victim. Still, she longed to storm to the dungeons right now and burst them all like the blood sacks they were.

Serana held the vial out to her. "Stop fantasizing. Drink."

Overcoming the hunger's clawing call, she uncorked the vials and threw her head back, letting the lukewarm, thick metallic liquid slide down her throat. The revulsion she'd had before was now completely gone, and the stuff went down in greedy gulps. She wasn't even aware that she'd uncorked the second until she'd drained it too.

The hunger quieted somewhat, and she found herself thinking more or less straight again. And unable to understand what had gotten into her to see the prisoners only as pumping, pulsating blood sacks. It wasn't gone completely though, and the hunger still growled in her stomach, and her entire body.

"Come on," Serana said. "Let's give it another go. I talked to my father about the prisoners, and I got him to see your point of view. Well, ours. Namasur should have had instructions to clean and air the prisoners now. Let's just hope he kept his trap shut. He'll blab eventually, but better later than sooner."

"M-hm." Her concern for the prisoners returned, Roë hoped Serana's father had indeed given instructions to treat the captives more humanely. Why he'd done it didn't matter. As long as it got done. And hey, maybe the blood actually did taste better?

"Your Ladyships," Namasur once again greeted them as they entered the dungeons, but he was far more humble this time. Harkon must have given him very… clear instructions. "The prisoners are all cleaned, and we are in the process of constructing an outside kennel – " He interrupted himself when he saw Roë's glare. "… I mean, holding cell for them, so they can spend time outside. They have been given only enough of Garen's medicine to keep them from getting too violent, and we'll be providing them with a few books as a distraction during their… well. Their time here."

"Good," Serana merely said.

Roë had no choice but to be satisfied. It wasn't much, but it was something. These people might still be prisoners, but at least they got cared for a bit better.

"This does mean that we'll have to keep them chained by one ankle instead of letting them roam free in their cells. Hestla is already at work. The… chains will have an acceptable length to allow mobility but not escape."

It was a necessary evil. Better to spend one's prisoner life chained than to do it in a mindless trance, smeared with one's own bodily waste. At least now they'd be lucid enough to actually use the shit bucket. Most were still in trance, but some faces bore vague expressions of confusion, and some even more.

"You've done well, Namasur. Thank you. We realize this must mean extra work for you, but quality never comes without effort, does it?"

Namasur had no choice but to wring his hands in embarrassment and say, "Indeed it does not, my Lady."

"Good. Some privacy please, Namasur?"

He gave a short bow. "Of course, Lady Serana." With that, he left the room.

"Roë, the honour is yours." Serana swept her hand across the cells. "Choose any one you like. But remember what we said."

Roë nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Are you…" a young boy asked, approaching the bars, "… the one who made them stop giving us the potions?"

"Uh…" Insecurely, Roë looked back at Serana, who nodded. "Yes. Yes I am. We are."

"It's like… waking up from a dream." He looked like a Nord boy, around twelve, his short blond hair standing in all directions. His blue eyes were bloodshot, but clear, much clearer than the eyes of any of the prisoners had been the night before. "It's like…" he looked at his hands, turning them over and studying them. "… like I was asleep, but also awake. And the sleep was quiet, even though I knew and saw that horrible things were happening around me."

Roë kneeled by the boy. "Well, you're awake now. I know you're in a cell right now, but I'll try to make things better for you. It's going to take time."

"Are you… a Vampire?"

It stung Roë to admit, "Yes. I am. But I still remember what it was like to be human."

"Your eyes are… beautiful and terrifying at the same time." Roë knew exactly what he meant. The boy looked at his hands again and said, "The reality is scarier than the dream, but at least it's real. I'm in the real world."

She nodded. "That's right. And you'll be able to go outside every day, even if it is in a cell."

The boy was pushed aside and Roë found herself looking at the groin of a half-Orc woman. "Tell them to give us the serum again," she hissed, baring her tusks as Roë stood up to face her. "Give it to us. Why'd you make it stop? At least when we had the potion, we didn't know how miserable we were."

"You were walking dead," Roë said back. "Anything would be better than walking around like a… like a mindless atronach."

The half-Orc banged her fist against the bars. "You don't get to decide what's best for us!"

"You were vegetables!" Roë shouted at her. "You spent your lives as mindless thralls, pissing and shitting yourselves where you stood!"

"But at least we didn't feel the pain and the hunger and the insanity!" the woman cried back. "Our minds were somewhere else, away from this misery!"

"You'd actually want to be mindless?" Roë asked.

"Compared to this? Yes I would!"

"This conversation's going nowhere," Serana interrupted in a bored voice. "You people are coming back to your senses, deal with it. We've done this to give you at least a little bit of freedom, but if you don't want it, that's your problem."

The half-Orc clawed through the bars at Serana. "You disgusting bloodsucker – "

"And this is the way it's going to be, whether you like it or not," Serana said, unperturbed and unimpressed. "You know why? Because you're the prisoners and we're your captors. We think it's better for you this way, and that's the end of it."

The half-Orc kept clawing, spittle flying from her lips. "If I ever get out of here, I'm going to – "

"Roë. Calm her down."

"Uh…"

"Go on." Serana nudged her head at the cells. "You know how. Go in and do it. But remember…"

Roë nodded. "No killing."

"That's it, elf-corpse," the Orc woman growled, balling her hands into fists. Human or not, prisoner or not, she had some wicked claws. Then again, what did Roë care. She'd just regenerate everything the Orc could do to her. "Come in and I'll rip your rotting guts right out of your frail little body."

The prisoner stood glaring at her, hunched over, droplets of sweat on the shaved sides of her head. More sweat stood beaded on the pale greenish skin of her forehead. Her nose was wrinkled and her tusks bared, smaller than those of a true Orsimer, but still very present. And though prison life had taken its toll on all of the living ones held captive, this one seemed to have been relatively new to the cage, the hard muscles on her bare belly still clearly visible, and her arms and shoulders still very strong-looking. She must have been a great warrior before ending up here.

Roë inserted the key in the door, and without taking her eyes off the prisoner, she turned the key and opened the door. She was incredibly nervous, but the half-Orc couldn't possibly have any idea what the real reason for that was.

"Please don't hurt her," the boy pleaded. "She tried to protect me when your kind took me. She's a kind person."

"Shh, kid," Serana said calmly. "She won't feel a thing."

The half-orc threw a punch at Roë, but between her own malnourishment and Roë's razor-sharp reflexes and inhuman agility, she didn't stand a chance. Roë grabbed the prisoner's wrist, gave it a hard pull and jerked the woman's back against her chest. Before the prisoner could even try to struggle free, she'd bared her fangs and sunk her teeth into the throat of her prey.

Red, warm blood pulsated into her mouth, hot and alive, bursting with power. She pulled the prisoner closer and drank, this prey's blood tasting far more strongly of metal from the Orcish lineage. The prisoner no longer struggled, hanging limp in her arms, breathing heavy. As she drank, she felt the Orsimer's fingers go through her hair and grab onto it, but their intent was not to hurt.

"Easy, Roë," she heard from far away, but her world had shrunk to only herself and her prey, and their relationship of pure mutual pleasure.

The grip of the fingers on her hair began weakening. She knew she had to stop, but all she wanted was to drain her dry, to have her spend her last moments in pure ecstasy, and giving that same ecstasy to her mistress.

"Roë, enough. You're drinking too much again. Stop."

Serana wouldn't intervene. Roë knew she wouldn't, even though she hoped for it, in a way. Because she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop in time. It just felt too good, too intimate, too… alive. And just one more time didn't matter, did it? She'd be able to stop next time. Maybe if she just let her go one more time, just one more time, that wouldn't be a catastrophe would it? She'd make up for it next time. She'd stop then. Just not now. She'd let it happen now, and stop next time. Next time.

She wrapped her hands around the warm, strong half-Orc, feeling the hard, warm muscles beneath her fingers, and held her tight as the fingers slowly letting go of her hair. She heard her prey's breath become slower and more shallow.

She tried to protect me when your kind took me. She's a kind person.

What was she doing? She had to stop, it had to be now! Summoning all her willpower, she pulled her fangs free of the half-dead prisoner and letting out a long, breathless wheeze of effort, she threw her head back, her mouth still open, and the prisoner slumped to the ground, out of her arms.

Serana promptly pushed Roë out of the way and kneeled by the prisoner, placing a hand on her chest. The young boy fearlessly kneeled by the half-Orc woman too.

"I… think she's going to live," she said, letting out a breath of relief. "That was…" she looked up at Roë, "… just in time."

Roë's knees gave out and she fell on her ass, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'd almost… almost…"

"Yes, but you didn't," Serana said, still kneeled behind the prisoner and looking back at Roë. "That's what matters. You stopped at the critical moment."

"I… still shouldn't have…"

"Let it go," Serana said. "Her heart's still beating, and I can feel enough blood in her. Just barely. She would have died if you'd kept it up for a bit longer, but you didn't."

"It's… just so hard not to…"

"I know. But it'll get better. You'll manage." Serana stood up, leaving the only-barely-conscious prisoner to the cares of the young Nord boy. "Come on, we shouldn't stay here." She held out her hand.

Still feeling a mix of shock and relief banging her back and forth, Roë extended her bloody hand towards Serana's and let herself be pulled up. With a giggle, Serana said, "Hold on, you've still got some…" with her finger, she scooped a drop of blood off Roë's chin and pushed it into her mouth. "… there."

They left the cell and Serana closed the door. "Boy," she said with a sigh of relief. "That was close. Almost thought you'd let it happen again. Good job, Roë."

Roë stood looking at the half-Orc, who was slowly coming back to her senses, muttering and moaning with her eyes only opened to slits. Her thoughts went back to Acrus, the poor guy she'd drained to death in the College of Winterhold, and all she could say was, "I already let it happen once too many. I don't deserve a 'good job'."

"She had a lot of fight in her," Serana said, ignoring Roë's regrets. "Maybe we should consider turning her."

"Don't," Roë said abruptly. "She's earned the right not to be. They all have." The hunger had made her almost drunk, but now that it was sated, she felt sober and clear-thinking again.

"Well, all's well that ends well," Serana concluded. "Come on, we've got work to do."

They ignored Namasur's cheerful remark of, "Oh, someone was hungry," as they left the dungeon. Once they were out of earshot, Serana told Roë more about her plan.

"So listen. I want to hear from my mother what happened to me, before my father has a chance to get a hold of her. Now, since she's been gone for years and years, I can't possibly imagine a place where my father hasn't yet looked for her. You know, he's had all this time to find her, and all."

"Maybe she's sealed away, like you were?" Roë ventured.

"Mm-m," Serana disagree with a shake of her head. "I was sealed… against my will, I think. No, I think it was without my knowing. My mother fled of her own accord. She'd never seal herself away like I have, not willingly."

"Then there must be another place."

"Mm."

"Nothing you can remember from your childhood? Secret safe houses? Underground vaults?"

Serana thought long and hard. "Mmmmno."

"No other clans she could have found refuge in?"

"Aedra forbid," Serana said with a grin, still concentrated.

Trying to shake the shock and guilt of the feeding off her, Roë said cheerfully, "Hey, you know what would be funny? I read a story once, was really long tale, and I mean really long, about a person who'd lost his memory and tried to find who he was, and at the end of the story, after he'd roamed across other worlds, other planes of existence, even other states of being, after an incredibly long journey to the edges of reality and back, it turned out the place he was looking for was the place he first started out in, and he'd have known if only one of his friends had simply told him. Wouldn't it be funny if this was the same thing? Imagine if your mother's been in this castle all along. How silly would that make Harkon feel?"

Serana chuckled. "Pretty silly, definitely. But yeah, I doubt it'll be that…" her face froze. "Actually…" She motioned for Roë to be perfectly still while she made a concentrated face, trying to remember something. Then realization dawned on her features, and her eyes of blazing beauty settled on Roë.

"Actually… she said quietly. "I think I know where she is. Shit in my boots, I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner!"

"What, what?"

Excitement broke out on Serana's face, and she told Roë, "My mother used to tend this uh, this secret garden in the courtyard of the castle. My father hated the place, couldn't stand it, because it was too peaceful. If there's one place left where my father hasn't looked, it's there."

Roë snorted. "What, she's been hiding between the flowers for years and years?"

"Tch, no. But I know there was a secret entrance in the courtyard. A way to her lab. She told my father about it, long ago, but he probably didn't even listen, and even if he has, I bet he's forgotten about it after all these years."

Roë grinned. "But you haven't."

With a grin of her own, Serana said, "I sure haven't."

"So we're off to that garden?"

Serana nodded. "M-hm. We've got to do it in secret though. If my father finds out about the garden, he'll put two and two together. Or wring the information out of us." She let out a humourless chuckle. "Well. Out of you."

"Well thanks."

"Never fear though," Serana told her enthusiastically. "There's a way to the garden that doesn't go through the castle. There's an inlet on the other side of the island, leads to an old escape tunnel. It's a bit of a hike, but nothing too dangerous. Come on."

Next to the bridge that led to the castle, was a small, almost invisible trail between the jagged rocks, that led them around the island. They made their way to the other side, unable to converse over the thundering of the waves that crashed into the rock face, only a metre or two below them. It was a treacherous path, but not irresponsibly dangerous, and even in the dark, the trail was visible enough between the wet, sharp rocks.

Serana turned and shouted something, but the howling of the wind and the breaking of the waves made it impossible to hear, so Roë just gestured towards her ear. With a nod, Serana pointed forward and stuck up her thumb. Right, that was where they needed to go.

The next moment, Serana was gone. When Roë approached, she saw the tunnel, only half as tall as a man, that led back into the island.

"Oh by the way," she heard Serana's voice somewhere ahead of her. "You can see better in the dark as a Vampire too. It uses up some blood, but just a tiny bit. Go ahead, give it a go."

Roë already knew how: all she had to do was will herself to see better, and indeed, in shades of dull grey, the cavern interior became visible, and the form of Serana, ahead of her, creeping bent-over through the cavern. After a few steps, the tunnel became taller, and they could walk normally.

"My father probably knows this escape tunnel exists," Serana explained, "but it's not something he thought of when he looked for my mother, I bet. Heh."

The emerged into a clearing, a large open space overgrown with weeds and gnarled trees. In the middle was a large white circle, also overgrown with creepers and moss, and when Roë looked closer, she realized it was a moon dial, the needle embraced by a spiral of thorn bushes.

"Here's the garden. If we just keep going straight, we'll end up in the castle, in a hollow wine barrel. But that's not what we wanna do."

"Obviously."

"But my mother had a mechanism in place. Involved the moon dial. You just had to turn the dial like so…" she bent, slid her fingers between the thorn branches, and turned the needle one quarter. "… and then take out this crest…" she did so, pulling the small half-moon tile out with her fingernails, tearing off the weeds that had grown around it. "... and press this button underneath."

There was a click, then a grating of stone on stone, and the sound of fibres and branches breaking as the entire moon dial, face and all, ground out of the way, revealing a staircase leading down.

"That's neat," Roë remarked.

"Isn't it? Come on, let's see where my mother is."

"Mother?" Serana called out as they slowly descended the stairs. "Mother, it's me, Serana. I really need to talk to you."

"Doesn't seem anyone's here," Roë remarked when no answer came.

The place they were standing in was a kind of library. Or no, a laboratory. And not just any old kind of laboratory. There were the 'normal' alchemy paraphernalia, like an alembic, a mortar and pestle, and all that, along with glass jars containing herbs and powders, most of which had long since withered away into dust, but there were other things too. Less harmless-looking things. Tongs to extract teeth, rusty serrated knives, glass jars, their insides caked with dark red, dried mush, that were labelled with all kinds of organ names, the original contents now long decayed and left as the dry gunk sticking to the glass. And things she never thought she'd see in her life, but she knew exactly what they were.

"Serana," she asked, pointing to the petrified basket. "Are these…?"

"Mm?" Interrupting her search through the half-decayed books that filled the cases against the far wall, she looked where Roë was pointing and said casually, "Oh. Yes, they are." She went back to scanning the books.

"And your mother… used these?"

"Mm, what? Uh, yeah. I think so." Again to the books. She seemed to consider it perfectly normal. But there was nothing normal about these things, the large, pale blue-purple gems lying in the basket. These roughly-cut chunks of crystal weren't regular precious stones, they were soul gems, necromantic creations used to trap people's souls and then use them as fuel for enchantments or spells. They were used to snare, and then literally burn up people's souls. Not their bodies or their lives, but their actual souls. The thought alone made Roë feel afraid to even look at them.

"Actually," Serana said, looking through one of the books, "I need one of those." Still reading, she held out her hand and motioned for Roë to give her one.

"I'm not touching those," Roë said immediately. No way.

With a grin and a roll of her eyes, Serana stepped over to her and took out one of the gems. "You big baby." She flicked it in the air and caught it again. "I remember my mother writing a diary, this one, and…" she struggled to call back the memory. "… saying if I ever needed her, I'd find the way in this book."

"Uh, Serana, that book looks brand new."

"I know," Serana muttered with an absent nod, reading intently. "It's enchanted against decay."

"Oh." Roë let Serana read and looked around the lab, with its creepy alchemy and necromancy attributes. All this stuff wasn't for her. She was just a stupid guardswoman. Again she realized she was probably in way over her head with all this. Soul gems, of all things. Her parents used to tell her horrifying stories about those when she was a child. About necromancers in general. 'You can get killed doing dangerous work', they'd say, 'but if you die, there are other realms for you to go. But without your soul…' Her mother would always tap her chest when she said the word, 'you're gone. Not dead, but gone. Imagine spending forever in a dark room with no walls. Forever. Not years, not centuries, but forever. That's what it's like'.

Roë realized her mother couldn't possibly know what it was like, but still, the thought was scary.

"Right," Serana drew her from her thoughts. "You'll have to stand back a bit. I'm going to show you something… well, pretty amazing, if it works."

"Alright… amaze me. But hey…"

Serana looked up at her.

"… this isn't going to be some of that necromantic cack, is it?"

"Afraid it will be. In a way. But hey, Roë, you're a damn Vampire. Necromancy is your friend, embrace it."

"I'd… rather stick to good old sword and claw action, thanks."

"Pft, you're no fun. Anyway, watch this!"

Serana held up the soul gem in her fist, and closing her eyes, she crushed it into fine shards, that fell apart into powder as she opened her hand again.

There was a sudden feeling that Roë could only think of as a… bump in reality, a feeling of brief displacement, and at Serana's feet, the stone melted apart, creating a large hole with stairs leading down. From the portal, black-blue tendrils of shadowy unlight began to flow, as if the smoky vapours themselves wanted to escape the hole… or take the air of this world back with it.

"This is the Soul Cairn," Serana explained, though her voice betrayed that she could scarcely believe it herself. "It's… a special place."

"I… so it seems," Roë said hoarsely. Slowly, she came to stand next to Serana and peered down the hole. It was a world of dark blacks and blues, not of light but of something else. Something she simply couldn't describe. The stairs only made up a few steps, and from there, big rocks were suspended in the air, hanging free but close to each other, forming a sort of suspended staircase. Below them, far below, so far they almost couldn't see, was the ground of that dismal place.

"When necromancers use the soul gems, it's said that the soul inside is consumed, right?"

Roë nodded, even though she could only half hear what Serana was saying, her attention taken up by the opening below her. This was actually a portal to another world. Another dimension.

"Well, that's not entirely true. What actually happens, is that the gem forms a conduit to that place. The soul is sent there, and the beings who rule the Cairn provide power to the spell or the enchantment as payment."

"So… this is a prison for souls?"

"You could say that."

"But… Serana, we can't possibly go down there," Roë realized. "What if we become trapped?"

"We won't be. I gave a soul as offering to open the portal, the rulers of the Cairn will honour the agreement."

That didn't put Roë at ease. "What about… what about the souls that are imprisoned there?"

"Mm. That's a different matter," Serana admitted. "After all, they're spending eternity there without a body. They'll probably do anything to get a hold of one."

This wasn't true. This couldn't be happening. Serana did not seriously want them to go down there. If those souls stole their bodies, there was no telling…

"I'm joking, you scaredy-pants," Serana chuckled. "No, the souls won't even know we're there. My mother's gone inside the Cairn a few times. It's perfectly safe. Only thing we can encounter are skeletons, souls who somehow… willed a body into existence, I don't know? But don't worry, they'll only try to kill us, not steal our bodies."

That was hardly reassuring

"Roë. We're Vampiric royalty. Please. We can deal with a few skeletons."

"I'm not too keen on going down there."

Serana shrugged. "Then stay. Just wait for me here."

Without a care, Serana went down the floating steps and then jumped from suspended stone to suspended stone, hopping down into the terrifying otherworld.

Roë watched her jump down, lower and lower. She didn't even look up.

Was she going to let her go alone? And risk her not coming back, or think of her as a coward? She couldn't bear the thought, and Serana did make it look very safe, with her carefree hops down the stones.

She had a choice. Hold onto this world, or hold onto Serana. And she knew what she wanted.

Setting her teeth, she went down the first step and followed Serana, jumping down the stones one at a time. It was only when she found herself actually standing on those floating rocks, nothing next to her, nothing below her, that she realized how high she was, and vertigo washed over her. She was a Vampire, she could probably survive the fall and repair the damage, but that didn't stop her from becoming dizzy. It would be the single most painful thing in her whole existence if she fell now.

She carefully lowered herself down, rock after rock, deciding against the confident, playful hops that Serana used. It took a long time to get down, and the lower she got, the more she could make out. The Soul Cairn was a plain of immeasurable size, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction, an expanse of dark purple soil that looked like it moved. Roë didn't doubt that it would feel like anything but soil once she set foot on it.

Serana had already made it down, and stood looking up at her, waiting for Roë to arrive.

As she descended further, climbing down from stone to stone, she saw a massive structure on the horizon, a sort of castle, except it wasn't… it looked like a castle, but it wasn't a building made of stone and mortar. Spires with jagged edges reached up to the black-blue sky, vapours coiling around the highest towers.

She climbed down, and eventually reached the ground, Serana greeting her with a smile. "See? Perfectly safe."

Roë felt safe, but only because Serana was here with her. She'd follow her to the ends of Nirn if she had to. Through the fires of Oblivion and back. And it wasn't simply because Serana was the only friend in the world she had. It was time to admit to herself what was going on inside her, what had been going on inside her for a long time now. She couldn't imagine her friend not feeling the same way, but it was better to keep quiet for now.

"You coming?"

"I'll go wherever you go, Serana."

The darkness couldn't scare her, the misery of this realm couldn't sadden her, the wailing of the lost souls that sometimes rang out on the wind couldn't hurt her. As her feet walked over the eerily immaterial surface of the Soul Cairn, dark purple vapour trailing around her ankles like weightless water, she just looked at Serana, walking just ahead of her and looking back every so often, and realized that if she was going to be this dead, cold wretch of a body, only one thing could bring her happiness again, and that was staying with Serana forever. She was a friend no longer, she'd become the world to Roë.

Of all places, in this horrifying realm of shadow and darkness, or maybe just because of it, Roë finally stopped fighting her own feelings, and let herself fall in love.