The fortress of stone loomed over them; its considerate mass perched atop the island of rock in a way that seemed almost predatory. Nature fought stubbornly against its existence; a blanket of fog hung heavily around the structure just as frost layered its outsides. Down below, choppy waters took swings at the seemingly stationary stone while dark creatures flew above in promising rings of death. A bridge stretched itself out to them, offering them, baiting them, to be swallowed up in its depths.

"Home, sweet home." muttered Elvyr. Wrapped in a dark cocoon of armor, his companions could just barely make out the words from underneath his helmet.

Whitland eyed the castle with disdain. "The taste is rather-"

"Ghastly, twisted, or sinister?" Serana offered archly.

He shrugged. "I was going to say a bit of flair for the dramatic, but either of those work."

The three of them continued to stare apprehensively at the castle. Elvyr cleared his throat and their eyes turned to him. The Nord gave a nervous smile. "Ladies first, I believe the saying is?"

Serana's eyebrow rose. "What about that Nord saying about honor and glory and never taking the coward's way out?"

"I'm not being cowardly-" Elvyr began to protest, but Whitland cut him off.

"It seems you two have both lost your chances," he pronounced with a roguish smile, "That leaves me to do the honors." He turned to the bridge.

"The gargoyles will attack once they sense you." Serana warned.

His smile only deepened. "Then I will fight darkness with darkness. Watch me, well try to I suppose." He ignored his companions' looks of confusion as he approached the bridge. He came to a halt just at the juncture and counted four of the statues.

He drew his dagger. "I call upon you Lady Nocturnal," he intoned, "Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow… hear my voice and grant me the shadows."

Darkness engulfed him until it was all he knew, and he swore he heard the light scuffle of a bird's wings. She was listening. There was a touch of ice on his shoulder, and then a puff of purple-orange smoke as she gave in to his request. The shadow melted away and he squinted as dots danced across his vision from the harsh light. He tried to shake off the lingering feeling of cold in his skin, but the feeling stayed. Deciding to ignore it, he bent down into a crouching position and with a flash of light, he disappeared.

He smiled as he heard the gasps. All that was seen of him was a flicker of movement, but otherwise, he was completely invisible. Slowly, he crept towards the first statue and watched as the rock suddenly cracked and burst off the gargoyle like it was hatching from an egg. The creature could sense his presence nearby, and took a few plodding steps forward.

He carefully padded up behind the beast. Oblivious, the creature continued to stand where it was, and he could hear its heavy breathing through its nostrils. His hand clutched the grip of his dagger tight, and he moved into standing position. The spell was broken.

With a flash, he materialized and struck hard with his blade. The gargoyle flinched and fell to the ground with a dagger lodged inside its back. Wrenching the blade free, he crouched back down and vanished once more to do the same thing to the other statues, each creature to fall down dead in one strike. He reached the end of the bridge and allowed himself to reappear. He smiled at his friends, all teeth.

"And that's how it's done. Ladies first, I believe it goes?" he said and made a grand gesture towards the entrance.

Elvyr's jaw was slack, but Serana simply rolled her eyes and walked with poise across the bridge. She halted when she made it to him. Her bright eyes held his. "You're a cocky, overconfident ass." She informed him, but he saw the smile in her eyes.

He gave a theatrical bow. "At your service, milady."

Her lips twitched, but the smile was whipped off her face like she'd been struck. The reality of their trip seemed to have hit her. They were here to kill her father and a castle of other vampires she knew. As Elvyr joined them, the mood turned sober.

"So this is it…" she breathed, taking in the whole castle's sight. Her gaze flickered to the Nord as he clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It is," said Elvyr, "And I understand this is hard. No one wants to kill their father," he swallowed, perhaps remembering the death of his father at his own hands, "But it's the right thing to do in this case, I promise you."

Serana nodded at the Nord's words, but the grief was ever present in her eyes. "We'll be here with you." Whitland added, but his eyes said, you can still turn back.

Ever so slowly, she shook her head. She took a deep breath and released the words in a sigh. "Let's go." Only then did they move toward the double doors and allowed Castle Volkihar to devour them whole.

Inside, they remained unseen as they observed the layout of the main chambers from above the staircase. Seated at a long pair of tables, they watched as a group of vampires munched on human flesh and bones, rinsing it all down with a goblet of blood. The smell of rotting corpses lathered the air.

"I don't get it." Elvyr whispered. "Vampires have strong senses, so how can they stand this stench?"

Serana shifted next to him. "Imagine coming home and smelling dinner," she explained, "It's the same concept." Serana's nose wrinkled. "Unless of course it's old, then it just smells stale." Her companions shuddered.

"Alright, enough." said Whitland, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Elvyr and him both winced when there was a loud crunch heard from down below. "Plans of attack anyone?"

"I don't know," Serana admitted. "There are probably more of them sleeping in their coffins, and maybe a hound or two. We'll eventually be detected one way or another."

"Elvyr?"

The warrior shrugged. "Charge and attack is the traditional Nord way."

"Well, I'm fresh out of ideas. I suppose we should announce ourselves."

Elvyr was on his feet with his greatsword in hand before he could finish speaking. With a fearsome war cry, the Nord charged down the steps and into the hall of vampires. Hisses sounded at his appearance and sharp rings of metal were heard as weapons were drawn. All other sound was lost amidst the noise of battle.

Serana and him traded looks.

"Nords." She sighed as her only explanation. He grinned before the two raced to catch up with their companion. At their arrival, vampires flooded into the main hall and the air was a fine mist of blood.

For the most part, he avoided any lethal encounters, but his magic was as good as useless. He had been drained like a human soul gem from how much magicka it had taken to heal Elvyr and Serana. He had only been able patch himself back together afterwards. In his state now, he could not even summon a single spark to his fingertips. But on he pushed, ignoring the aches and pains his body lamented and the twisting of his gut. He had yet to heal the devastating stab that had been delivered to his side.

"Where do you think Harkon is?" grunted Elvyr as he beheaded a vampire with a mighty swing from his sword.

Before he had the chance to speak, a Death Hound set its grinning jowls on him and lunged. Its claws found purchase in his armor and they both went tumbling to the ground. Struggling to keep the dog at bay, he drew the dagger from his belt and buried the blade up to the hilt into the creature's skull. There was a whimper and then the hound's grip retracted. He pushed the corpse off in disgust.

He climbed to his feet and freed his sword from its scabbard. There was a loud crack from somewhere around him and he stifled a groan as a jagged cord of energy found him as its target. The flesh on his sword arm seared. His teeth were gritted when he replied. "Can't say I know the guy well. Serana?"

She was currently reanimating a dead body with one hand while she sent spikes of ice flying with the other. "I wish I could say it was beneath him to hide away and let everyone else fight, but most likely he's waiting in the cathedral for one of his court to find him when they're done."

There was no more time for speaking as they slowly began to lose ground and were pushed back into a room. There, only one vampire could manage at a time to get through the door frame. A pile of dead corpses began to steadily rise from the entrance and made itself the perfect barricade, giving them a brief time to rest.

His mind thought quickly. They could not risk Harkon joining the battle out here. They needed him alone where they could focus all of their attention on him. The question was, would Harkon even leave the cathedral to help his court in battle? It didn't sound like his character, but the man was willing do anything to fulfill the prophecy, even kill his own daughter. They needed to-

"You guys go," said Elvyr, "I'll hold the fort down over here."

His companions' eyes swept dubiously over the horde of vampires. There was more than triple their numbers left, and Elvyr would be at the distinct disadvantage.

"No," said Whitland firmly and Serana nodded her agreement, "We are not leaving you."

"You have no choice." argued Elvyr. "Someone's going to have to face Harkon and end this." He crossed his arms. "I am a warrior, and a Nord no less, if this is how I go, Sovngarde will be roaring its glory at my welcome. There is no finer way to die this day."

Whitland was silent, but his eyes never left the Nord as he thought it over. "Fine," he said in defeat, "But allow me to at least clear the way." Elvyr nodded. He and Serana watched as he took in a deep, shuddering breath and turned towards the entrance.

"FUS RO DAH!" he bellowed, his voice sending the vampires crashing through the air like a bunch of rag dolls. They landed in a sprawled heap of limbs at the far end of the chamber. Elvyr walked with them out and dryly observed as vampires began to move sluggishly. His companions only got a second glance as the Nord drew a throwing knife from his belt just as the first vampire managed to stand. Then the bare wall blocked their view and they were moving through the castle, killing any stray vampires on their way.

Down the hallway and up a length of stairs, they soon found themselves at the gates to the cathedral. Serana found the lever nearby and lifted the portcullis. Neither moved as the wooden doors loomed before them.

His mouth went dry. "Ladies first?" he joked in an attempt to lighten the air that was suddenly smothering his windpipe.

Serana didn't hear him; her eyes fixed on the door before them.

He dropped the act and stepped closer. His hand met her shoulder; she jumped. "Hey," he said softly, "I know I said it already, but you don't have to do this."

Her eyes were stone hard and impossible to read. "No," her voice firm, "I do." Her eyes caught his and the sharpness in them faded a little. "Don't do anything stupid." she added.

He smiled. "No promises, but I'll do my best," he drew his hand away, "As long as you're careful too."

She nodded and they turned to the doors.

It was time for the tyranny to end.

A/N I decided to make it two parts. It felt really repetitive saying they go into the castle, into the main hall, into the room and then outside the doors to the cathedral. Something needed to be done. Kind of a boring chapter, sorry if I disappoint, but the next one should be up soon. Meaning we all know in translation; another week at least. Hopefully this will sate the flames of your impatience and fury. Or not.

Anyway…

You guys sticking with me is the only reason really this story goes on, so thank you for the continuance of reviews and views of this story. Any suggestions of course are gladly accepted, although I have a few ideas…