Chapter 2 – The Birth

The great Daedric Prince of domination and enslavement, Molag Bal sat upon his throne made of the skulls and bones of those who had defied him. Resting his bull horned, Argonian-like head on his large, grey scaled hand he exhaled, bored. Bored with watching his enslaved souls moving aimlessly in his slave compounds. Bored with extinguishing the flames of souls for his own dull entertainment. Lifting his other hand, stretching his arm out in front of him, he pinched his clawed index finder against his thumb, extinguishing yet another slave soul. He groaned in annoyance and let his arm fall limply onto his lap.

He stood, walking down the skeletal pile surrounding his throne. A Dremora—a gift from the Daedric Prince of Debauchery—stood ready to receive orders near the doorway to the room.

"My Lord, do you require me for any—" the Dremora started but was stopped by Molag's hand raising.

"I am bored, Dremora." He said in a bass, booming voice. "You know what happens when I am bored."

The Dremora pressed his lips together and stood tall, obediently letting him past. He did in fact know what happened when his Lord was jaded.

Molag Bal lifted his hand and summoned black and purple magic opening a rift in thin air—a portal to the mortal world of Tamriel, Nirn.

-oOo-

The wind blew less than violently through the tall trees, whistling through their branches and rustling their leaves. A priestess of Arkay, Lamae Beolfag, wondered through the forest, collecting ingredients that only appeared at night. She knelt down and caught a Luna Moth that was fluttering lazily around a blue mountain flower. Carefully coaxing the tiny insect into a jar, she stood up and continued her search. Listening to the rich sounds of the woods, she hummed softly, a small herd of deer raising their heads as she lightly danced past. The faint trickle of a creek rang out quietly through the air and the sweet, deceiving smell of Dragon's Tooth flowers reached Lamae's nostrils.

She followed the sound of the creek until she found the slow waving waters. Crouching, she filled a deer hide water skin with the icy liquid. She would use the water as a base for the potions Arkay required for his rituals and followers. Corking the top, she rose to her feet and turned back the way she'd come, on her way to return to the temple. As she walked away from the creek, she stopped and checked her pack, suspicious of it light weight. Frowning, she rummaged through it, searching for the jar containing the Luna Moth. Lamae skipped hurriedly back to the water's edge, cursing to herself for losing this special ingredient. She did not have another jar to contain another Moth in and the high priest of the Arkay temple required it tonight to be able to complete a burial ritual.

Irritated at herself for easily losing something so valuable, she sighed and had no choice but to return to the temple empty handed, only she was stopped by an unusual sound. Standing as still as the statues engraved in the temple, Lamae scanned the forest. The noise sounded like a Sabre Cat's low growl mixed with the hum of a giant—which was strange because neither were in the area. The Nedic woman was suddenly became very aware of her surroundings. The buzz of insects had ceased and there was no rustle in the bushes that signalled deer. Even the wind that was blowing was deathly still. It was as if every living thing in the area had simultaneously disappeared. Lamae's heartrate began to quicken. Her pulse pounded against her neck and her lungs heaved in her chest.

"All alone?"

Lamae shrieked, fearfully and spun around to face where the voice had come from. But there was no one behind her. Hairs sprung up on the back of her neck and she whirled back around, screaming at the sight before her. Leaning, casually against a thick trunked tree was what looked like something out of the darkest depths of Oblivion. It was tall—taller than a giant and had dark grey scaley skin. Her eyes rose to the beast's face. It was Argonian-like with large pointed teeth jutting out of its jaw. Two large horns horizontally poked out of the side of its head with spikes poking out of the side of its neck.

"Why is this little rabbit all alone?" it spoke, revealing more needle like teeth and a forked tongue. Its bass voice confirmed some sort of male beast.

Lamae was terrified. Her body shook violently, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy. Warm liquid puddled from her in between her legs to her feet.

"Do you know who I am, little rabbit?" the demonic being asked.

Lamae was unable to answer. Tears ran like rivers from her eyes, down her cheeks and her neck. The monster pulled a hand from behind his back, revealing the missing jar with the Luna Moth. He threw the jar up and caught it a few times before lifting it to his bright red eyes.

"I am the Daedric Prince of domination and enslavement." He paused gazing at the trapped Moth. "Molag Bal. I like what you have done with this little insect." He continued to throw the jaw up, long, black talons scraping against the glass every time he caught it again. "I like the way you imprisoned something lower than yourself." He suddenly let the jar crash to the forest floor, easily shattering it and letting the Moth flutter dizzily out. "But this is what happens when you do not have a secure prison. They break. Letting the prisoner fly free." He watched the Moth flutter up towards the tree canopy, before snatching it back between his large, thick fingers. Holding each wing, he slowly tore it apart. Though the Moth made no sound, Lamae could see the insect writhe in pain before floating lightly to the ground. "Do you see how easy it is to kill something beneath you?" He stepped forward, crushing the remains of the Luna Moth underneath his gigantic foot. "For a Daedric Prince, everything is beneath you."

Lamae screamed, a high pitch screech that rang out throughout the silent forest, echoing far. She turned on her heel and bolted away from the Daedra. She leapt across the creek, dropping her pack and water skin. She didn't care where she was going as long as it was away from him. She screamed for help, though somewhere deep inside her, she knew no one would hear her. She felt her legs pumping hard, lungs heaving, aching in her chest, adrenaline and fear drove her forward, but suddenly…her feet caught on a large root of a tree and she smacked hard to the ground, bloodying her nose. Dazed, she attempted to get to her feet, but she felt she couldn't. She felt something on her back, holding her to the ground. She struggled to push herself up, but it was no use. It was as if the tree she tripped on had fallen onto her…

"Where are you running to, little rabbit?" Her eyelids stretched open in fear. Molag Bal was lying on top of her. She tried to scream, but her head was roughly shoved to the floor, dirt and dried leaves filling her mouth. Molag Bal's large, taloned hand griped the back of her head, while the other held her left wrist down, holding her in place. "Ah-ah, little rabbit. You shouldn't squeal. It is hard on the ears." His hot breath rolled down her neck and she sobbed quietly. He suddenly inhaled deeply. "Mm, you'll do just fine."

He shifted his weight so that his left hand was holding her head down while his elbow kept her hand in place. Moving his right hand he gripped the dull grey-blue dress she was wearing and ripped it off, shredding it to pieces. He lowered his head and inhaled once again, this time crushing her shoulder between his jaws. She screamed in pain, but was muffled as Molag forced her head further into the ground.

"What did I just say, little rabbit?" The Daedra hissed. "Now, be a good girl."

"Arkay, show me mercy and let me feel no pain—"

"You will not speak that vile name, mortal!" Molag Bal seethed. "Now be a good girl a be quiet."

Lamae continued to sob as the Daedric Prince tore away her small clothes. He tightened his grip on her head as he rubbed his enormous member against her behind. She shook in fear and coldness. The air was as cold as ice, no wind, just extremely cold. Goosebumps rose on her skin as Molag Bal gripped both her shoulders, talons imbedding themselves deep into her skin. She clenched her jaw hard so she would not scream, though it was hard.

Shoving her to the ground, Molag thrust forward, hardly fitting inside her. Just the tip was able to fit as her mortal body was much too small. He growled savagely as she screamed in sheer pain. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, the tips of his fingers reaching the wounds he tore. He forced himself deeper into her; finally ignoring her cries as he literally brutally tore her apart, splitting her virgin body in two. Lamae never felt so much pain before. Molag was so big, that when he reached her end, he was only one third of his shaft was inside her. She was spread so wide, she looked like she was giving birth. Lamae continued to scream in pain and terror, as Molag Bal savagely raped her.

A shift in the air changed when the Daedra was satisfied with his work. He had done similar acts before, however, when he pulled away from Lamae's limp body, he took one of his talons and pricked his own finger, letting a single drop of blood to fall onto her brow.

"Die, now alone, little rabbit." He purred and summoned a portal back to Coldharbour.

Lamae lay there on her back on the spring forest floor. Shallow breaths escaped from her mouth as clung with what energy she had left to life. Blood poured heavily from where the Daedric Prince had ravaged her. Deep cuts and holes from his talons decorated her body from head to toe. The pain from the attack was fading away as she faded away from life. The blood droplet on her brow that he left behind ran down the side of her head, leisurely, leaving behind a vibrant red line. As her vision blurred, she felt her brow heat up, an orange light suddenly lit up the night sky. Despite her position, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

The swirls of light swishing playfully between the stars, lighting the beautiful, cool green leaves of the trees. It was like fire spirits dancing together. She forgot everything then. She was filled with bliss. Warmth. Mercy…

Her mouth opened.

"Arkay…"

-oOo-

Lamae Beolfag opened her eyes. She was lying on a stone alter, wearing a pure white dress, with a white corset tied with red ribbon. Her hair was held back with a purple mountain flower. However, the first thing she noticed was that she was surrounded by orange light. And like a flash of lightning, the memories of that night flooded her mind. The Daedric Prince…the…the…brutal attack…she had prayed to Arkay. She had prayed for him to help her. To save her. But he didn't. He didn't. Lamae felt the heat of pure anger rise from the pit of her stomach. Sitting up, the orange light whipped around her and licked at her skin and it was then that she realised the orange light was fire. She could feel the warmth however it didn't burn her, though it was singing her clothes, revealing some of the scars as evidence from the ordeal she endured.

Lamae swung her legs over the edge of the alter and stood, walking gracefully through the fire. Gasps and murmurs wafted into her ears. Lifting her eyes, she watched a group of people staring at her in fear. She glanced at her surroundings. She was outside; the dusk sky looked like the glow of a wildfire, with the setting sun as the spark. She also noticed that she was in a small village—wooden buildings dotted around a small area, casting long shadows across the village's centre where the burning alter was situated.

"She…she's alive?" one villager asked another.

"Is this a miracle, or something more like witchcraft?" A second villager whispered.

"But that is impossible. She was pronounced dead by the village healer!"

"Once more, they removed her heart!"

Lamae slowly lowered her head and rested her gaze on her chest. Sure enough, there was a long scar across the place where her heart was. Lifting a hand she pressed against her left breast. There was no heartbeat. She slid her fingers up to underneath her jaw. No pulse. Not even a faint throb. How could she be alive but not be alive?

"Arkay…" she hissed from behind her teeth. "Molag Bal…" she clenched her jaw and her fist. "Curse you…curse both of you!" Her voice became a screech. "You did this to me! You killed me! Arkay! Bal! I will have my vengeance!"

Her fierce glare laid upon the villagers then, a sudden terrible thirst resonating within her. Her mouth salivated as her stare was set upon their necks. She could hear the blood pumping past their pulses. She bared her teeth and they all screamed, their focus on her mouth. Ignoring their fear she lunged forward, with new speed; landing on one of the village women. She sank her teeth into her neck and sucked the blood dry. Raising her head to her next victim she continued her attack. From one villager to another. She killed all the women first. Then she killed and violated the men worse than she herself had been violated. And then, finally, she turned her attention to the children. She rounded all of them up and made them stand naked before her.

"Are you watching, Arkay?" She screamed. "Divine of Mercy! Are you watching?!"

She gripped a little girl by the neck and raised her hands to her young face. She saw that she had talons now of her own, though she never thought to thank Molag Bal for this abomination-like look. Aiming her taloned index and middle fingers with the girl's eyes, she stabbed forward and ripped them out of her head. The girl squealed deafeningly, writhing in misery and dread, however her assailant showed no compassion. She let the girl drop at her feet, let her die slowly before glowering at the other children who were huddled together in terror after witnessing the horror that just transpired before them. She continued to torture the other children horribly before leaving the village to burn to ashes from the flames of her own funeral fires.

-oOo-

It was eight and a half months after this ordeal that Lamae Beolfag lay in a bed in a temple of Kynareth, posing as a widowed, poor farm woman giving birth to a babe. The healers did their best to keep Lamae as pain free as possible, summoning the golden, warm light of healing spells to her womb. Inwardly, she cursed Molag Bal for giving her this burden, as the muscles around her stomach twisted and contorted horribly, her legs were spread wide apart, readying for what was about to happen.

Sweat slid down the side of her head and neck, wetting her hair. She screamed in pain and leaned forward, gripping the sheets of the maternity bed hard.

"Get it out of me!" She shrieked.

"Sit back, Miss," one of the midwives soothed, stroking her wet hair back, "you're doing fine!"

"I want it out! I want it out! I want it out!"

"One last push!" another midwife called.

Lamae finally relaxed as the mass finally left her body. There was a sudden shift in the aura—tension.

"Something seems wrong." A midwife murmured to the other. "The baby is not crying."

The second midwife cut umbilical cord and carried the baby to a surface where she studied the baby. "It's a girl…" she muttered, though she didn't seem too concerned with the gender. "She seems…fine. Heartbeat…fine. Breathing…normal. Eyes—" the midwife shrieked and drew her hands away from the infant.

"What?" the first midwife asked, hurriedly. "What's wrong?"

"Th-the eyes…" the second whispered.

The first walked over and gasped, lifting her hands to her mouth. "They're orange!"

"They're glowing orange." The first midwife breathed out. "What…what do we…?"

"That's my daughter." The midwives turned slowly to see Lamae standing, holding the severed heads of the two healers that were in the room with her. "These healers were not helping. You see…" she blinked slowly and when her eyes opened, she revealed her own glowing orange eyes. "Healing spells don't work on vampires."

Dropping the heads into a bloody pile on the ground, she lunged forward, sinking her long canine teeth into the neck of the first midwife; warm, tangy blood filling her mouth. Lamae drank deeply, her victim paling from the loss of sudden loss of blood. Letting her limp body heap on the floor, she turned to the her next meal, who screamed and attempted to run, but was caught as the vampiric woman leapt onto her back, biting her neck from behind, and drinking the plasma from her veins.

Wiping the blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth, she turned to the small baby who was lying on the surface of a short table. She had large, orange eyes and pale, snow white skin. Lamae focused on her tiny head and saw that there were five evenly space knobs on her crown. She knew horns would spurt there, so she carefully wrapped her babe in thick cloth and decided to her away from civilisation. As much as she hated half the blood that ran through her veins, Lamae could not completely despise her own daughter.

Opening the door to the new winter air, she shuffled through the thin snow and headed for the dead looking forest, cradling her child close to her chest. The wind was icy and unforgiving as it howled like a hungry pack of wolves, though the vampire mother did not feel the cold. Her hair and clothes flapped wildly, however, whipping around her face and skin. She stopped at the edge of the darkness of the forest, suddenly aware she was being watched.

"You will not take her." Lamae said to the figure standing behind her.

"My Lord requires me retrieve his daughter." Lamae snapped her head to look behind her to see a Dremora standing deathly still, black armour resonating with bright red light, illuminating his obsidian face. "I will gladly use force should the need arise."

"Leave me, demon." Lamae hissed, clutching her daughter more tightly. "I will not let that foul being you call your Lord to get his defiled hands on my daughter."

The Dremora's face remained expressionless, as he drew his Daedric greatsword. The dark silver and black blade shone in the frozen stare of the moon, the bright red light on the hilt irradiated the entire weapon in an eerie demonic glare. Before Lamae could react, the Dremora shifted forward with amazing speed, slicing off her head with ease. All she had endured, as that is what she had to show for it. Her head rolled into the snow, spraying the pure white snow with tainted red blood. The rest of her body, still clutching the child stood for a few seconds longer—as if it was a last desperate act of resistance against the Daedric Lord she despised so much—before crumbling to the icy ground.

The Dremora sheathed his bloodied weapon and cautiously approached the body. He expected the baby who was wrapped in layers of cloth to be screaming and crying for the death of her mother, but instead she just looked at the demonic looking being with bright orange eyes and smiled. This caused his brow to twitch slightly with confusion, though as gently as he could, he lifted the bundle into his arms and walked though his created portal back to her father in Coldharbour.