Aeyrin came to with her head pounding as bone-chilling frost wreaked through her body.
Oh Gods. So cold. So cold.
That was worse than any cold she had remembered. Was she lying in snow? Wait… was she naked?
Why did this keep happening to her?!
She didn't remember much. She knew that the vampires overwhelmed her just as she was getting so stupidly cocky about disposing of them. She really felt stupid. Among other things. But she needed to concentrate on what she knew.
She didn't remember anything about the attack. Her head was spinning, but she had experienced enough life-threatening blood-loss to know that that didn't happen to her. She wasn't really woozy that way. She wasn't feeling sick. She knew that a vampire bit her. But it always felt a bit worse when they fed off her.
Did they not? Why? They didn't turn her, did they? They couldn't, right? She was a… a monster already. She had never heard of someone being… both.
Stop. Focus.
Right. She didn't lose much blood. If any. She lost all her clothes though. That was for certain. And she couldn't feel her necklaces or any of her rings on her hands as she started to feel herself up with stiff and shivering hands. They took her rings! They took her engagement ring.
Monsters! Who does that?
That was low, even for those vampire freaks.
Alright… maybe it made sense. Rings and clothes and anything could be enchanted. It made sense they took all her things. It was strange though, she didn't even feel battered and bruised. She didn't feel any wounds. Just the headache. She knew she was hit in the head, but then they did nothing to her. Odd.
She should probably be happy about that. But the sense of horrible dread didn't leave her.
There was something else she felt. Metal cuffs around her wrists. They were so heavy. But she wasn't chained to anything – even the cuffs weren't chained together. What could be the purpose of that?
She opened her eyes slowly, but all she saw was bright white everywhere. It took her a long time to make sense of it.
An icy chamber with bars over its entrance arch. This was their idea of a prison cell. She had a blanket under herself, but that did not stave off all that snow on the ground. And she really had no way to protect herself from it. Her trembling hands gripped the blanket and she tried to huddle herself into it, shivering, teeth chattering. The blanket was wet and cold and it didn't help much. It may have made the cold worse. But she felt better like that for some reason.
But there was one thing worse than any of it – worse than the cold, the uncertainty or that headache.
She had no idea how long she had been here. How much time was left until Bishop's execution? And what if all the citizens were dead already and Siddgeir wouldn't pardon him anyway?
She couldn't have been in this cell for too long. She would have frozen to death by now. Wouldn't she? A vampire wouldn't. But they didn't really feel cold, did they? No. She was definitely not craving any blood, aside from spilling that of these monsters. But she still could have been in this place longer than in this cell. She had no idea.
Her hand went to her neck briefly as her trembling fingers touched the familiarly sore spot. There were definitely fang-marks there. And she could feel the dried up blood there. But she was sure that she hadn't lost too much of it.
Unless… she lost a lot of it and only now her body's regeneration replenished it. That could mean that she had been here for days!
Gods. Gods. Breathe.
It was hard in the freezing cold and even harder with the panic enveloping her. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of here now!
She sat up sharply, wrapping that large blanket tighter around herself. She was still shivering uncontrollably. The cuffs on her hands were thick and glinting in the reflection of the icy chamber. She still had no idea what they were for. But once she moved her hand to her neck to heal her bite mark, instead of the familiar warmth of her healing spell, she felt strange tiredness overcome her. Her spell didn't work at all.
She heard of this. She was sure what these were now. Cuffs to suppress magic. Now it made sense why they weren't even chained. They were made to hold bound something other than her arms.
That was… inconvenient. Her spells were her greatest weapon just now. But she had to think of another tactic. She had to come up with something. Gods, how she missed her Shouts.
She stood up on shaky legs. It was so frustrating to be this unsteady. She was fine. She felt a little light-headed, but she felt relatively strong. It was just that damn cold. Despite that though, she managed to wrap the blanket around her body like a strapless dress and she shuffled through the snow towards the bars.
There was someone sitting on a crate outside!
A vampire.
"Aaaw, our sleeping beauty is awake," the vampire chuckled at her the second it spotted her. It jumped off the crate and walked towards the bars with a malicious grin on its face. "I thought you would be out for longer. What are you?"
"W-w-what?" Aeyrin stammered through the cold. What did it mean? She was nothing that would make her regain her consciousness any faster. Was she?
"We thought we'd have a nice feast. New cattle always tastes the best," the vampire smirked. "But no. Not you. What are you? Your blood tastes… vile."
'Vile'? No other vampires had any complaints before! That… was probably a strange thing to get outraged about, but she had no idea why…
Oh!
Werewolf blood. That very thing that made her so weak, made her into a monster, made her lose her powers. That thing kept the vampires from draining her dry.
"How long have you kept me here?" Aeyrin snarled at the creature instead of answering. The werewolf didn't matter one bit. What these monsters should fear was her.
"You mortals and your time," the vampire scoffed. "What does it matter? You're here now, awake before you froze. What fun."
Great fun. Really.
"Don't worry, we won't let you freeze," it chuckled at her meanly again. "It would be such a waste. Even with that vile blood, you still have your uses. If you're entertaining enough, you might be able to become a part of our little family here."
So they didn't try to turn her. Not yet. That was mildly comforting at least.
Did that thing just say 'entertaining'?
What did that mean?
"Let me out of here or…" Aeyrin snarled again. Or what?
"Or what?" the vampire laughed at her, as if it knew all too well that she didn't have the answer to that. "Stop being so prissy." It stepped even closer to the bars and looked at her intently. Strangely intently. It was almost… overwhelmingly intense.
"Come with me."
The words echoed in her head strangely and something started to bubble up inside of her. She felt sick. So sick. Like her whole stomach suddenly turned inside out.
She couldn't take that. She doubled over and threw up onto the snow. At least she had barely eaten anything, so there was not much in her to get out, but it felt even worse to have to force her stomach juices out of herself violently, heaving and gagging.
"What. The. Fuck?" The vampire stared at her incredulously. What had it done to her? "What are you doing? I said: come with me!"
Oh no. Not again.
The feeling came once more and she kept dry-heaving and gagging. That was much worse than actually throwing up. What was this? Was it a spell? What was it trying to do?
"Huh. What are you?" The vampire repeated the question, this time almost in reverence.
I don't know. What am I?
She had no idea what the effect was supposed to be. Was it trying to charm her? Like that one in Morthal did to Bishop? Why didn't it work? Why did she get so sick? Was this a werewolf thing again?
"Ugh. Fine," the vampire rolled its eyes in exasperation when it didn't get another answer. It walked away for a spell, but it was soon back with an axe in its hand. It pulled on something on the nearby wall which Aeyrin couldn't see, but a second later, the bars retracted down into the icy ground.
Aeyrin didn't get a chance to react as she continued to breathe heavily and heave from the previous experience. She was grabbed by her hair next and straightened up. The axe followed, pressing its sharp edge to her neck.
Aeyrin flailed her arms a bit, but the vampire pressed the axe deeper, letting a bit of her 'vile' blood trickle down her neck. A clear threat.
"Now come."
Aeyrin got worried again, but this time the nausea didn't come. Not when the creature wasn't looking at her.
And she was left with no choice but to follow.
…
She was led through the strange fort that was now mostly snow and ice. There weren't any people around, nor were there any more vampires. She had no idea why. There were plenty of signs that this was the lair of a big vampire clan though. There were body parts and blood spattered everywhere. Even goblets and pitchers filled with it. Disgusting.
Her makeshift dress snagged at something along the way and fell off, but once she started squirming under the vampire's axe, surprisingly enough, the creature stopped by some crate and pulled out an old dusty robe.
"Here. Try anything funny and you'll regret it. Just put it on if it matters that much to you. We need you at your best for the entertainment."
Aeyrin was almost shocked by the gesture. She actually got enough reprieve from the axe to pull the robe on her, but the second she did, the axe was back. Maybe she should have used the opportunity to attack, but what could she do against its power without her spells and weapons? She was completely at its mercy. She was just glad for the robe. It was actually dry. And warm.
They continued onward through the snow until they finally stopped. There was an archway and more bars, but it was at a downward angle and Aeyrin couldn't see anything beyond the snow behind it.
"What do you want from me?" Aeyrin asked when her teeth weren't chattering so much now. "And what did you do with the people from Falkreath?"
"Pfft, I don't know where people crawl from to get caught by my family," the vampire scoffed at her. "And don't worry. You'll find out soon enough. You're here for the entertainment."
Why did it keep saying that? What did that mean?
First, the vampire reached out to a nearby wall again and pulled a chain there, lowering the bars into the ground once more. Then the axe came off. But before Aeyrin could do anything, she was grabbed and shoved forward.
She stumbled over the long robe that covered even her feet and she fell right into the snow. By the time she managed to raise herself on her hands and knees, she heard the sound of the bars closing her in. At first, she thought this was another cell, but then she got back up on her feet and looked around.
She was in a strange icy pit. There were alcoves closed with bars all around and behind them, there were dogs.
No, not dogs. Something else. Something… she had no idea what it was. They were built like dogs, but they were all black and their snouts were… missing. Their fangs were so big they couldn't fit into their maws. And their eyes… they glowed so menacingly. All those things snarled at her, snapping their jaws at her threateningly. For a moment, she wasn't sure if they did that to anyone or just her… the werewolf.
That wasn't the only terrifying thing there.
A slope led ahead, separated by bars again, and atop the upper level, there was a throne. A vampire sat on it. It looked already very old, despite its lack of aging. And it wasn't alone. There were more. At least a dozen of them. Soon, the familiar one who had led her there joined them.
This was the entertainment. What was this? Were they going to release those dog things on her? Without weapons and magic? It was a fighting pit!
Her whole body started to shake again, and this time, not from the cold. There were at least five of those dogs visible behind their bars. The vampires kept murmuring amongst each other, watching her with interest. And the one that led her there was telling something to the one on the throne.
The one on the throne. It scared her the most. It kept staring at her incessantly. She could have sworn it didn't even blink.
"Welcome, pet," the vampire on the throne nodded at her when the one that led her here finally straightened up, done with whatever it had been telling the other. "You are quite the specimen. First the strangest blood we have ever tasted and now I'm told you are… revolted by our charms," he chuckled mockingly. "You have us very curious."
The vampires started to murmur and nod again. This was all too familiar – the spectacle, brought here to be observed, prodded for reactions and gawked at. She felt her stomach clench in anxiety but she tried to push those feelings back. No. She had different things to focus on now.
"How long did you keep me here?!" she yelled up at the creature on the throne. "And where are the people of Falkreath?!"
"Well, I'm right here," one of the vampires laughed – an Altmer man. What did that mean? He was one of the people from Falkreath?! Oh no! Were they turned?
"None of this concerns you, pet," the monster on the throne scoffed. "All that we want now is for you to show us. Show us what you are."
What? She had nothing to show them. She wasn't anything right now. She wasn't the Dragonborn to anyone without her abilities and she wasn't that monster when Secunda was not full. That was a comfort at least. It wasn't the time of full Secunda – otherwise they would have known why her blood tasted 'vile'. It was not really surprising with what a vile creature the werewolf was. But full Secunda was still a week after Bishop's scheduled execution. She could still be too late.
Don't think about that!
She couldn't have been passed out for that long. They didn't even drain her of her blood, right?
Bishop was fine. He was fine. She just… needed to get out of here.
"I'm not anything!" she yelled back at the vampire. What were they planning? To have her attacked to see what powers she would reveal? Oh Gods, that was exactly what they were planning, wasn't it?
She had no powers!
"We'll see about that," the vampire on the throne smirked. "My beloved clan, let the show begin."
It pulled a lever that was by its throne – she hadn't even noticed it before – and a series of metallic sounds filled the chamber.
The bars of the makeshift dog cages lowered and the hounds ran straight at her, with vicious snarls and liquid dripping from their maws.
Was that blood?
What was she supposed to do now? She had no way to defend herself.
One of the hounds lunged at her first and it instantly sank its teeth deep into her forearm. Aeyrin let out a guttural scream as a sharp pain hit her and she staggered back, falling into the snow onto her back. She frantically began to shake her arm, trying to get it off. It held firm though. It was not letting go, only getting the teeth deeper and deeper.
She used her free hand promptly to punch it in its deformed maw. The hound still didn't let go, but it winced and it gave her an idea. She didn't hesitate. She started to hit it again and again in its face, this time with the metal cuff on her hand. That one started to do some real damage.
Another dog bit into her shin and she screamed again just as the first one let go of her arm. She didn't even know what the vampires were doing; she was too busy trying to keep those hounds away.
Now she had two arms free and, despite the horrible pain, she began to bludgeon the one biting her leg with the wrist cuffs. The second another one got near her, she punched it right in the face, making it scamper away, and then she proceeded to bludgeon until the hound let go of her leg. Another one jumped at her promptly and she held up her arms to shield herself. It kept snapping its jaw at her, trying to bite, but she held it off. With what strength she had left, she managed to keep that up with one arm only and she promptly grabbed one of its very thin and flimsy-looking legs with the other. She snapped it with force without hesitation.
The hound howled in pain as its leg got entirely broken and bent sideways. It rolled away from her promptly as the bone fell back straight, but it dangled in its black skin in a disturbing display. She didn't have time to process this though. Another hound was already upon her and she quickly punched its maw with the wrist cuffs again.
When that one scampered away, she used the brief moment of respite to get back up on her feet. Her leg hurt so much, but she could stand on it. She had to. She took stock of the situation. One hound was on its side, whimpering with its leg broken. Another was lying limply with its maw bludgeoned into a bloody pulp. There were three more. One was moving slowly and it looked like there wasn't much strength left in it, but the other two were a little too hale for her liking.
Another one lunged and it aimed at her arm again – the wounded one. But she was faster. She moved her hand subtly to mess with its aiming. It bit right into the thick cuff and the force of its bite made her hand vibrate painfully, but she wasn't the only one in pain. The cuffs were so tough. She could practically feel its fangs shatter.
The hound let go of her instantly and it started to whimper in pain as well. There was still one left though and she felt it from behind, sinking its teeth through the straightened out robe and into the same calf again without her even having the chance to react.
She screamed once more and the shock and pain made her fall over, face-first into the snow. She was definitely not cold anymore, but the pain was her worst enemy right now. She needed to shake it off, but she couldn't reach it.
Instead, she opted to flip over. She did that with as much strength as she could and she made sure to kick the dog with her other foot in the process. She may have been barefoot and without any protection or metal to do the damage, but it actually worked. The hound let go of her. It got kicked off her and it flew a little further back. She could sit up.
And the moment it lunged again, she retaliated, bludgeoning its face with the wrist cuffs once more.
When it was finally on the ground, she continued. She didn't stop until she was sure it couldn't move. And then she stood up again. She marched towards the hound with the broken leg and she stomped with all her might with her hale foot onto his hind legs, snapping them as well and earning a howl of pain. She felt the bones under her bare sole. It was so disturbing. But the hound was in too much pain to attack and she proceeded to bludgeon that one too.
It took a while longer. But they had been incapacitated.
And eventually, they were all dead too.
She breathed heavily, still a little in shock and still a little pumped up on adrenaline. Her whole body was covered in blood – both hers and the hounds'. Her leg and arm burned and ached like crazy, but she stood still. She would not crumble now.
Finally, her eyes went to her audience.
Some of the vampires looked quite shocked.
But others, and mainly the one on the throne, looked utterly unimpressed.
They did not get what they wanted.
"Hmph," the one on the throne scoffed. "Well… that was… surprising. But you will show us what you are eventually."
"I'm not anything!" She yelled again as involuntary tears accumulated in the corners of her eyes. There was nothing to show. What did they mean to do with her now?
She had the urge to run towards the bars and try to get through somehow. She would bludgeon them all if she had to. But before she could, the lead vampire rose from his throne and stared down at her.
It only took a second. Both his hands got lit with that red light and she quickly raised her arms to ward it off. It was stupid. She didn't even realize that the cuffs wouldn't let her.
The small balls of light circled her soon enough and all her remaining strength left her. The spell wouldn't make her pass out. But the pain was overwhelming.
And in her weakness, her body could no longer handle it.
…
She didn't know what to do.
She had no chance to fight back, no chance to escape.
When she came to, the whole scene repeated like some twisted dream. She woke up in her cell, unaware of how much time had passed. She was still covered in blood, freezing again, with those cuffs on her. She was promptly greeted by the familiar vampire and led back on its axe-point. It was the pit for her again.
This time there were only four. But she earned more bites and even scratched. She suffocated one with her robe and she bludgeoned the rest eventually, but she was exhausted and she was so hurt. She couldn't heal herself, she couldn't do anything. The vampires may not have drained her, but her wounds were starting to.
It all happened again. They were disappointed that they didn't see what she was. Then there was the spell again. She passed out.
And now, she awoke once more.
But this time, it was different.
The robe was gone. She was naked once more, lying in the snow. This time though, she was not in her cell.
She was still in the pit. Or again in the pit. She wasn't sure. And now, her arms were not just cuffed. They were bound by thick ropes behind her back. So were her legs. She couldn't even get up on her feet this time. She just lied there in the snow helplessly.
They took away everything. Her every edge. Her every weapon.
She was helpless.
The vampires didn't even speak when she awoke. They seemed to enjoy her panicked thrashing tremendously for a while, before the bars to the hound cages came down again.
She was going to die this time. There was nothing she could do. Nothing she could fight with.
There was no way to make it out of this situation. They didn't care if she died. And she couldn't do what they wanted. There was nothing to do.
The hounds lunged at her. She could do nothing but close her eyes and scream when she felt the pain. One in her elbow, one in her thigh, scratches on her back.
This was what it had come to. Bishop was probably already executed. The Falkreath citizens were all dead or turned. And she was about to die.
So much blood. So much death for a sick man's ego.
Siddgeir. This was all his doing. He brought this on her. He brought this on his people. He let this monster out to torment anyone it wanted for his sick schemes and politics.
So much death for this.
He was wrong. Falkreath was not cursed. He was the one that cursed it. He was the one that brought the monsters, cultivated them in his Hold.
He said that one had to 'adapt or die' in this place. That was what he did. He adapted. He became one of them. He was a monster.
Adapt or die.
Maybe if she was one too, she wouldn't die in this place.
A pressure came from inside her, but she didn't recognize it. It was a strange overwhelming feeling. A nagging. She couldn't stop it.
Did she even want to?
…
A vile taste permeated in her mouth.
She remembered it. She remembered it all too well. She would never forget that taste in her life.
She felt like throwing up.
She didn't even know… what happened? Why did she… where was she? For a moment, she thought she was dead. Maybe Hircine claimed her for his Hunting Grounds – it was where she belonged as the monster she was now.
Her eyes kept blinking away the tears as she tried to control her heaving body and her labored breaths. She couldn't see anything yet. She was shaking. And she still couldn't concentrate on even one single thought in her head.
She had no idea what happened. Why she was standing. Why she couldn't feel the ropes on her arms and legs, no cuffs on her wrists.
She couldn't take it.
She doubled over and threw up. This time it was different – she wasn't dry-heaving and gagging. There was something inside her that needed to be out. That didn't belong.
The first thing she saw through her tears was red.
Down at her feet, in the snow, there was a pool of blood and chunks of something she really didn't want to think about.
She didn't feel any better. But she was starting to see, starting to put things together.
She was leaning on an ice-cold wall. Still naked, still unable to properly catch her breath. But her eyes scanned over the sights in front of her.
There was a literal pile of bodies there with a pool of blood underneath. Everywhere around that throne, there were scattered remains of vampires torn to shreds. All of them. Dead. She should be relieved, but it just made her feel even sicker.
She didn't want to look anymore, but she was oddly compelled to. And she kind of had to. She needed to make sense of all this.
She walked a bit towards the pit. The bars leading on the upper level were intact. Did she… did the werewolf… jump that? That was… terrifying. Terrifying, definitely not impressive.
The hounds down below were much in the same state as the vampires were – torn to shreds and… kind of gnawed upon. There was blood everywhere. On her. Around her. Her wounds were still fresh and bleeding, but the shock of the situation didn't let her perceive it that much. All she could focus on were the remnants of the metallic cuffs and the ropes down below.
She did what they wanted.
She showed them what she was.
She became a monster too.
She adapted.
And while she survived, this terrified her more than anything.
Was it instinct? Was it really like the Shouts? Did it just… take over in the face of mortal danger?
Or did she do it on purpose?
She had no idea which option filled her with more dread.
Her feet squelched unpleasantly in the snow and blood as she stepped away. She needed to get a hold of herself. She needed to forget this. There was no time for wallowing in the depravity that happened here, in… the horrible things she had done, even to other monsters.
She needed to find out how much time she had lost. She needed to get out of here and she needed to save Bishop, if she still could.
She took a deep shuddering breath and turned towards one of the exits from this awful chamber.
There were more important things she needed to focus on.
…
If she wasn't so stressed and worried about Bishop, she would have been very happy just then.
She could hardly believe her luck.
Not only was her exploration not interrupted by anything at all and she managed to heal some of her wounds while she walked, but after a while of shivering and marching naked through the snow, she found her things. All of them. Her pack, her clothes, her armor. And most of all, her rings. Every single one.
Was it strange that she had felt much more naked without the necklace and the engagement ring than she did without her clothes?
This was fortunate for multiple reasons though. In her pack, she also had the letters she needed to present as 'found' in this place. The ones from Siddgeir. The thought of that filled her with nausea once more, but she fought to overcome it.
She had to follow through. She had no choice.
And if Bishop was dead, she would rain doom down on that fucking bastard! She would tell everyone what he had done. Every single twisted detail. His people would butcher him. Or they would try to. They wouldn't get to. She would make him suffer first. She would kill him first.
Calm down!
She needed to focus.
She put her clothes and armor on as fast as she could. There was no time to waste, but she needed to be ready for opposition. What was interesting was that it wasn't just her things she found on those cabinets in one of the rooms that looked exactly the same as all the others, just with a bit less blood and body parts scattered around.
There were so many clothes there, so many packs and trinkets. It seemed like this was where the vampires put the stuff of their victims.
The victims. She hoped there were still some to find.
She hoped she wasn't too late.
Too late for everything that mattered.