Florentius

"So... were you and Valerica close?"

Serana shrugged, following him up the mountain path towards Ruunvald. "Before my father became obsessed with the prophecy, my mother and I spent quite a bit of time together. She was very fond of her alchemy garden in the castle courtyard, she taught me quite a bit about cultivating quality reagents."

"You were always tight? Lucky," Desmond said, scanning around the mouth of the ruin. There was a small camp set up outside, but no one was around.

"We were like the best of friends. I would never hesitate to share anything with her," Serana said, halfheartedly picking up a book that had been left behind.

"You're lucky to have had that. What changed?"

"It was very sudden." She dropped the book back onto its crate, and followed Desmond into the ruin. "It was almost like one day we were a normal family, and then the next I didn't know who they were. I'd try to visit my mother in the garden, and she'd shoo me away, saying she was much too busy."

"And you think she's still there."

"She had to be up to something in that garden," she reasoned. "I'm hoping it's a clue that will tell us where she went."

"Right. Fair deal." Desmond squinted down at a Vigilant who was patrolling. A strange cloud of magic surrounded his head. "Huh... Hey! Hello?" he called down to the man.

The Vigilant turned on him, firing spells and crossbow bolts at them. Desmond swore and recoiled back behind the railing, Serana dropping to her knees and slinging ice down at the Vigilant. The cloud of red vanished as the Vigilant hit the ground.

"What do you think...?" Desmond looked around for Serana. She had picked something up off the floor, and showed it to him.

"Look." It was a book, dirty but not faded or tremendously old. He scanned through it, flipping pages and finding nothing interesting.

"Just some boring journal," he said, shrugging.

"They're excavating something," Serana said. "They seem to think there's something pretty neat here."

"Whatever it is has everybody bewitched or something. Must be powerful."

Serana replaced the book near where she had found it. "Do you think Florentius got possessed, too?"

"I hope not—!" An animal growled from further inside the ruin, cutting him off. Serana squinted down the corridor and threw another spear of ice.

"What do you think is down here?" she asked, over the sound of a fading whimper.

"Hopefully not another hidden vampire daughter," Desmond said. "You're enough trouble."

"I hate you." Serana picked up another book, leafing through handwritten pages and frowning. "Another journal. Sounds like they started digging up precious ore."

"Whatever. Anything about magic?" Desmond asked, trying to peek over her shoulder. "People getting possessed? Stuff like that?"

Serana snapped the book shut and dropped it back on the crate where she had found it. "No."

Desmond scoffed at her, throwing a ball of light higher into the air to see further down the tunnels. "There aren't nearly enough men around here to have done all this so quickly. Not without help."

"They must be further in." Serana led the way into the mines, tossing a spike of ice at another Vigilant with red smoke around his head. "I mean... either that, or they're all dead."

"Then are they undead?" Desmond asked, turning over the felled Vigilant with the toe of his boot. "They don't look it."

"Definitely not, just bewitched. Something's got them," Serana concluded, picking up another book and tossing it over her shoulder. Desmond dodged out of the way and followed. "I'm not sure what, though."

"Hey, tell me something," Desmond said. "When you were hanging out down in your stone coffin thing—"

"Sleeping. I was sleeping."

"The whole time?" he asked. "You didn't ever—"

"If I woke up, I would have starved. It's a vampire thing," she said, shrugging.

"So can vampires starve to death?"

"I—what? I don't really care to find out."

Desmond fell silent, frowning. "How have you been eating this whole time you've been traveling?"

"I haven't eaten you yet—"

"Yeah, I know, but who have you eaten?"

"I don't eat people!" Serana snapped at him.

"Right, fine, but what have you been eating? Can you just go for days without eating, or—"

"Do we have to discuss this right now?"

"Can you feed off dead people?"

"Desmond—"

"What about nonhuman things?"

"What is it with you?" Serana demanded.

"I'm just curious whether or not I need to catch one of these guys instead of just shooting them."

"You'd let me feed off a Vigilant? That's..." Serana frowned at him.

Desmond shrugged. "Better them than me. And we kill them anyway, you might as well."

Serana rolled her eyes. "You're such a gentleman."

The further into the tunnels they went, the fewer Vigilants they encountered. The dusty surroundings gradually got cleaner and a little brighter as they lit the torches on the wall.

"Hey." Serana tossed another book at him. "Who's Minorne?"

"You say that like I should know." He leafed through it, growing uneasier with each page. "Why is everyone suddenly named Minorne?"

"Yeah. I'm curious."

"Well, I'm terrified." Desmond set the book back on its crate. "We'd better get Florentius and get out fast, before whatever's got the Vigilants grabs us, too."

"What do you even know about magic?" Serana asked curiously. "You hate on Winterhold, but—"

"I don't hate Winterhold."

"Then why did you want to avoid it so badly?"

"I'm in no hurry to go back to Winterhold," Desmond explained, kicking aside an empty bucket. "That doesn't mean I hate it."

"Fine. Be obnoxious about it."

"What?"

Serana shook her head with a sigh. "Forget it."

Desmond glowered at her. "I used to know the Archmage."

"Used to? Until what?"

"Until his wife shot him to death outside of Whiterun last year!" he snapped.

Serana's mouth fell open. "I—oh."

"Yeah. I don't really want to head back to the College if I can avoid it." He pushed open a grand set of doors that opened onto a massive torch sconce and another book. Serana picked it up, dusting it off and flipping it open.

"Glory be to Minorne, glory be to the mistress of all," she mumbled, flipping through it. "Sounds like trouble—"

Desmond seized the book out of her grasp, reading quickly. "The guard, Florentius, sent from the beacon, he still prays to Arkay," he read. "May he rot in his cage... Do you think he's still alive?"

"We'd better hope so."

Desmond tossed the book back down on its table, listening intently. There were faint voices coming from whatever ahead.

"Hey... who's the Archmage now?" Serana asked. "I mean, if your friend got killed, someone must have replaced him, right?"

"Probably. I mean, I guess." Desmond shrugged, loading his crossbow. "I don't have any reason to keep up with the College."

"Would they still let you in, if you had to get inside?"

"Maybe. Why?"

Serana shrugged in turn, following as Desmond crept along against the walls. "If we have to get in for the Elder Scrolls, I want to know if there's going to be a problem. We could always fight our way in, I guess, but—"

Desmond shook his head. "Not a chance. Not the way it is now."

"What does that mean?"

Desmond took a shot, felling a Vigilant with a cloud of red around his head. "Half of Winterhold's fallen into the Sea of Ghosts. Bad place to pick a fight."

Serana pitched a ball of fire around the corner at a blonde woman who screamed at them and swung a staff. "Duly noted. What happened?"

"Damned if I know, I'm not a student," Desmond said, firing another arrow to silence the woman. She fell with a hitched gasp, and the room went quiet.

"That must be the last of them."

"Where's Florentius, then?" Desmond waved a hand in the air, blinking as the spell detected only a single, faint blob of red.

"Anything?" Serana asked, pulling coins and keys from the dead woman.

"Up there." Desmond led the way, taking the stairs two at a time. An iron cage hung by the stairs, suspended over the stone and housing a single, harangued looking priest. The man scrambled to his feet as soon as he saw Desmond.

"I knew it! I knew Arkay would save me!" he cried. "I asked for help and he sent you! You are a very welcome addition to this dreary place, my friend—I owe both you and Arkay a great deal."

"Don't mention it," Desmond said, Serana unlocking the door and yanking open the door to the cage. "You must be Florentius?"

The priest nodded with a bright grin, slipping past Desmond to stand on the stone steps. "I'm sure I'll manage to repay him later, but you... what can I do to thank you?"

"You know how to get out of this place?" Desmond asked. "Head south of here and check in with the Dawnguard, Isran needs your help."

Florentius's grin faded somewhat. "Isran? My help? Is this... some kind of a joke?"

"What? No—"

"Did Arkay put you up to this?" Florentius asked seriously. "Isran's done nothing but mock me. He's never given me the respect I deserve."

"Do you have any idea what we're up against?" Serana asked. "We need all the help we can get here."

"Look, I've just gotten myself out of quite a mess here, in case you haven't noticed," Florentius pointed out. "And I... what's that?"

"What's...?"

Florentius shook his head at Desmond, holding up a hand as he argued with thin air. "No, that's not what I...! Yes, but..."

Serana nudged him with the toe of her boot, looking suspicious. "Do we really need him?" she asked. Desmond shrugged, watching Florentius continue.

"Are you sure... really?" Florentius asked. He sighed. "Fine."

"So... what was all that?" Desmond asked.

"Arkay says it's a good idea for me to go," Florentius said, nodding. "I don't agree, but he's not the sort of fellow you can just ignore."

"Great, I think—!" Serana kicked him again. Desmond threw back his elbow.

"I'll see you at Fort Dawnguard, then. Don't worry, Arkay will show me the way." Florentius gave a halting bow and wandered off into the ruins. Desmond and Serana stayed on the stairs, watching the priest hop over the body of Minorne to leave.

"Should we go with him?"

"Maybe... imagine how angry Isran's going to be when he shows up," Serana said.

"Don't we have something better to do?" Desmond prodded. Serana kicked him again.

"Fine. What's next?" she asked.

"Let's get to Whiterun," Desmond said, hanging his crossbow over his shoulders. "If we're going to find an Elder Scroll, there's someone we'll need to talk to."

Serana followed him, looking over her shoulder at Florentius's retreating form. "Who are we going for, again?"

"His name's Martin. He's from Cyrodiil and he's got an Elder Scroll..." Desmond screwed up his face, thinking. "At least, he did."

"Did he lose it?"

"No! I mean, he might not have it with him anymore," Desmond said, trying to remember the last time he had seen Martin with it. How long ago had it been, now? "But he'll know where it is if he doesn't have it on him."

"And who is he, exactly?"

"He used to be the Emperor, but then stuff happened," Desmond explained, shoving open the door for Serana.

"...What?"

"Come on. I'll explain."

[A/N: I did not forget about you! I just took a vacation, and now I am tired. Please accept this tiny chapter in the promise of better things in coming weeks.]