As Cura and her allies wandered the perilous Soul Cairn, Inigo and Lucien continued to stand watch, ensuring that the portal remains open and that there are no interruptions. Thankfully, this tower was desolate, and the pair elected to remain calm so as to be more difficult to potentially detect.

This was not so easy for Lucien, who was a bundle of nerves trying to relax, with some difficulty. Thankfully, he managed to drink a Potion of Calm, which he brewed from the Ingredients found on one of the nearby shelves.

"Inigo, do you think they're going to be all right in there?" Lucien began to worry again as he paced the floor in Valerica's Study. The tapping sound of his footsteps reverberated off the cold stone walls. "I've read nothing but terrible things about the Soul Cairn..."

"Do not worry, Lucien," Inigo called him by his proper name, much to the Imperial's surprise. "Cura and Serana and Carcette will be fine. They are all warriors, not farmhands."

"Yes, I know." Lucien decided to pull himself atop the table on the western side of the room and sat flat down on it. "But this isn't an ordinary dungeon! And besides, you did see Cura get partially Soul-trapped by Serana, didn't you? Or was I imagining things?"

"You saw correctly, like an alchemist sees the sparks in the beaker." Inigo sat on the steps across from him, adjacent to the portal. "Sigh... I do agree. I wish I would have gone in with them, but I froze."

"You froze?" Lucien asked. "What do you mean, you froze?"

Inigo shifted awkwardly. "I wanted to volunteer, but they seemed to have decided already on what to do. So, I stayed behind. Now I am wishing I would have gone. Stupid Inigo, stupid!"

"And leave me alone in this pit? Are you crazy?" Lucien reprimanded him. "And, you're not stupid! Even Cura would disagree with that."

"She has a very high opinion of me, even though I betrayed her in the past." Inigo began to recall his skewed memories of a time long passed. "She is so forgiving. I do not deserve such a friend."

"Wow, what happened between you two?" Lucien asked, surprised by the sheer drama that Inigo exerted over the matter.

"We worked together as mercenaries in the past, Cura and I." Inigo began. "I betrayed her for money that I would use to feed my Skooma addiction and put an arrow in her head, and I left her for dead. We met again in Riften, and she allowed me to make amends by being her ally in battle."

Lucien furrowed his brows, somewhat confused. "I thought Cura was a Vigilant of Stendarr?"

"I think she has amnesia." Inigo deflected. "She spent time with me in the past! We were both sent to assassinate the brother of a powerful lord called Dupan! I remember it well! She has forgotten, because the wounds were so deep." He stood up straight. "But I will make it up to her! I promised!"

Lucien had a little trouble believing that story in light of all he knew about Cura from the brief timeframe that they've been together. Considering Carcette was well aware of who Cura was, and how the others in the Fort acknowledged her status as a Vigilant and the Dragonborn, he knew that Inigo was clearly mixing something up here. "No offense, Inigo, but I have a hard time envisioning her as a mere hired thug."

"A hired thug, a Vigilant, what is the difference?" Inigo laughed lightheartedly.

"The Vigilants of Stendarr have principles that they follow?" Lucien stated the obvious. "I mean, they are a hybrid force comprised of the Resolutes and the Crusaders of Stendarr, after all." He paused for a moment. "I read a couple of books on the subject at Fort Dawnguard. Isran must like to remember the old days from time to time, I suppose."

"No offense, my friend, but I know what I know." Inigo refused to debate the matter. "And I will not rest until my debt is paid."

Lucien clicked his tongue. "Whatever you say, Inigo. Whatever you say." He stood up from his seat and walked over to the bookshelf to find something to take his mind off the topic.

He did feel sorry for Inigo, however. It was clear that whatever the truth of it, there was someone, even if it wasn't Cura, who was wronged, and Inigo was desperate to set things right. He hoped that he would be able to make peace with it someday.

Walking to the chair leaning against the wall, Lucien planted himself upon it, kicked up his feet, and relaxed with a book about the Feyfolken.

Inigo, however, was now the restless one, pacing around the portal and muttering to himself about the event, which was addled in his fromerly Skooma-addicted brain. He looked down at the Dwemer crossbow in his hand and began to tweak it. Well, if nothing else, he did do some good for the Dawnguard, sneaking those Schematics to Sorine. Perhaps he was good for something, after all. The blue Khajiit smiled.


Cura walked alongside Serana and Carcette through the blacker reach of the Soul Cairn, but the trio slowed down to a halt as Carcette hunched over in pain, facing the floor. She nearly fell to her knees but managed to keep herself standing with her hands pushing down against them. Her breathing was heavy and laboured, and quickened with each passing second. She began to sound as if she were impaled in the chest.

"Keeper!" Cura exclaimed on habit as a deep fear seeded itself within her. She rushed over to the suffering older Breton and laid a gentle hand on her back. "A-are you all right?"

Carcette stared at the floor, and her hands began to shake. Visions of Lucien's open wounds filled her mind. Visions of the blood-filled tankard presented to her clouded her thoughts, and the overwhelming smell of blood from the Volkihar court kissed her nostrils once more. "B...blood..." she whispered as the crimson fluid enthralled her senses. A small whimper escaped her, concerning Cura greatly.

"No.." Carcette whimpered. "No... no.. no, no..." She grit her teeth as the suffering became unbearable. She needed blood. Desperately. Try as she may to deny ir, bur her body was urging her, pushing, and pushing, and pushing, forcing her deeper and deeper into the darkness. The cold, dark, want. Desire. Blood. The iron. The succulent odour.

Stendarr. Stendarr, please. Please, help me. She continued to struggle against dark nature. "B-bless...blessed be the - the name of - of... Sten... ooog..." Praying was becoming a chore, as her mind began to descend further and further. Blood. The one word that kept coming up. She felt weakness in her jaw, and her lower lip quivered. Her thoughts were beginning to cloud as desire wrested control.

"W-what's wrong with her?" Cura asked fearfully.

Serana leaned over to take a look at her face, and noticed the intensity in her eyes, and the firm snarl fixed on her mouth and nose. She then quickly alerted Cura. "Get away from her, Cura! She's gone feral!"

Before Cura could react, however, Carcette spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders. She hissed loudly, exposing her long, sharp upper fangs, and readied to plunge. Cura shrieked and quickly shoved her backwards, and drew her mace and shield.

"Snap out of it, Carcette!" Cura pleaded.

The vampiress growled lowly like a beast and glared into Cura's soul, and mindlessly lunged for her again. Being the only living thing in this realm, Cura was an ample supply of blood for the time being.

Cura blocked her with her shield and pushed her backwards again. "Snap out of it! What are you doing?!"

"Cura, look around you!" Serana reminded her of their surroundings. "You're the only source of flesh and blood in this realm!"

Cura had forgotten that small obvious detail in light of everything that transpired since they arrived, but now that she was aware of it, and the more she thought about it, she realized that she was game now. Before Carcette was feeding off of Animals in the field to quench her bloodthirst, but now there were none to be found. And she hasn't fed since two nights before. This is her third day without feeding, and she was blood-starved.

In a span of two minutes, Cura went from protege, to prey. It was as she had feared all this time; Carcette has finally lost her senses. Why did it have to come to this? Why here, right now, in this place?

"No.. no.." Cura whimpered as she began to survey the area from her location, hoping to find a fast escape route. All to be found in the devoid landscape were buildings, odd tombstones, dead trees, wells of magic, sepulchers, and Soul Husks. She did not want to be killed by Carcette, and even less have to kill her.

Not that she had the time to, as Carcette rammed her shoulder into her shield and knocked her over, using supernatural strength. Cura hit the ground and her former mentor followed-up by grabbing her by the neck and lifting her up off the floor, keeping her eye fixed on Cura's neck.

Lightning struck the rod atop a nearby building.

It seemed like instead of having to fight three Keepers, she had to fight four.

Cura responded with a quick mace bash to the side of her head, and the vampiress dropped her.

"It's me! Cura! Please, snap out of it!" Cura pleaded as she regained her footing. Her pleas went on deaf ears, it seemed, as Carcette was unmoved. She wasn't in her right mind, and was unable to be reasoned with.

Serana fired an icicle into Carcette's back, but the former Keeper shrugged it off and sped after Cura, who was now running towards one of the large buildings nearby, With little trouble, she caught up and grabbed Cura by the back of her shoulder.

"WULD NA KEST!" Cura shouted and blasted ahead, away from her grasp. Unfortunately, however, Carcette's clawed gauntlet caught her flesh through the surcape and the leather of the armour underneath, drawing a little blood due to the force of the Shout. Cura winced when she caught her footing and held a hand towards her stinging shoulder. Once removed from the injury site, she realized that there was blood on her gauntlet, and quickly cast a Healing Spell to close the enticing wound.

Carcette rushed forward, and Serana quickly intercepted her mid-air, grabbing hold of her and flying them upwards into the air with a vicious spiral. The two began to struggle with loud hisses and growls as Carcette pried her hands off her upper arms and the pair detached in two separate directions, causing Carcette to slam through one of the buildings, creating a hole in the brick, and Serana hit the ground and began to flip around in the dirt before regaining her footing, sliding and kicking dust along the way.

"Keh... you don't give up easily, do you?" Serana caught her breath. "I guess if you Vigilants are this perseverant, I could see why the clan felt the need to get rid of you."

Cura summoned Arvak, using the gifted spell, and the skeletal mount manifested before her. She hopped on top of him and softly patted the side of his face, to which the horse responded with a gentle scoff. He really was just like an ordinary horse.

"Okay, Arvak... I'm your new master. Quickly, run over the hills!" Cura gripped the protruding bones on his shoulders and gave him a light kick with the soles of her feet. "Hyah!"

The horse began to gallop over the small rocks and barren cliffs.

Carcette pulled herself back up and Serana met her in the air. "That's your foster daughter, you idiot!" Serana insulted her. "Are you too blind to see that?" She hovered ahead of her in attempt to block her flight and allow Cura to escape.

Carcette did not give up. She swung Stendarr's Hammer with great force and knocked Serana out of her way. She then rushed through the air, seeing her target appear closer and closer in view.

A swarm of bats rushed around her and created a confusing cyclone, obscuring her vision and she began to swat at them with her claws.

The bats then rematerialized into Serana, who wrapped her arms around Carcette's shoulders from behind and pulled her backwards. "Stop! Remember who you are! You don't want to do this!'

Carcette quickly snapped her arms outwards to the sides, breaking Serana's grip, and spun around and punched the vampiress through the air.

She could detect Cura's faint heartbeat off in the distance, and was not about to let her food escape.

And then it hit her. She looked down at her gauntlet and saw the blood on the sharp fingertips of her right hand. She smelled the blood. It was Cura's.

She could recognize that scent anywhere.

At Sky Haven Temple, when Cura cut her hand to activate the blood seal.

The very same.

Carcette gasped at the sight, but didn't have much time to soak it in. Serana flipped through the air and dashed forward, ramming into her, and the two recoiled.

"Gah!" Carcette exclaimed on impact, and then she rebounded mid-flight, stopping herself from flying too far.

Serana followed up by rushing her down, tackling her into the ground from above. Once down, she began to repeatedly punch the former Keeper in the face before Carcette caught her fist and returned a stern blow to her own.

"Come to your senses, damn you!" Serana rubbed her cheek as she staggered backwards.

Carcette pried herself out of the ground. She shook her head and shivered. "I..." She began to look around. "What was I doing?"

"You lost yourself to the bloodlust and attacked Cura." Serana informed her.

As the words slowly sunk in, Carcette felt gnawing terror and her stomach coiled itself into a knot. "C-Cura... did I...? Did I...?"

Serana held out her hands and shook her head. "No, no. Almost, but no. She's all right, just separated from us."

Carcette was unnerved, but relieved. "Oh, thank Stendarr!" She touched her mouth to check if there was any blood on it, but thankfully there was none. "I... lost my rational mind."

"Don't dwell on it too much." Serana held her to reality. "Let's just find her."a

Twice. That was twice that she almost broke her oath in one night. She shivered and nearly lost her balance as she studied the blood on her hand. Then, she thought to an old ally and adversary. "Fenrik... was it this hard for you?"

"Who's Fenrik?" Serana asked. "I've heard that name mentioned before."

"He was a Vigilant Enforcer, a high-ranked soldier belonging to the Vigil of Stendarr." Carcette explained. "He was in the exact predicament that I am in now, but I spared him no quarter, instead banishing him from the Hall under threat of elimination."

Serana 'ah'ed with acknowledgement. So it would seem that they have seen similar situations like this before. It certainly didn't paint a very good picture for vampirism, to be sure.

"Gods, I was such a wretch." Carcette slapped herself in the forehead. "Because I had driven him away, he turned towards the dark arts to find a cure. He struggled with his faith and consumed Human blood... and Elven blood, as well... Gods."

She was horrified. Poor Cura. She was nearly her first victim.

Serana saw lightning strike across the sky once more. "Yeah, it's not for everyone." she admitted. "I can see why you're afraid. I was too, at first. I thought the Aedra we're going to smite us where we stood, but they're surprisingly passive."

Carcette had nothing to say. She began to try and sense Cura's presence. Being the only living creature there, her heartbeat was quite easy to faintly distinguish from 60 yards southwest.

"Hey, you can't let yourself become blood-starved. I know that you're trying to be noble and all, but I'm sure that Stendarr won't hate you for doing what you can to keep your sanity." Serana tried to propose.

"I will not!" Carcette protested. "Even once we've left, I'd die before consuming sentient blood! Do you understand?" She quickly spun around to chastise Serana for even suggesting it.

"I understand, but if what just happened is any indication, you won't have a choice." Serana walked ahead, leaving the resisting Breton standing there mid-complaint.

Cura gained a safe amount of distance between herself and the blood-starved Carcette, and stopped Arvak near some taller bushes and dismounted. She quickly sat down and calmed herself down.

She feared this scenario. She let down her guard like a fool because she believed Carcette had control over it. Apparently not entirely, or not anymore.

"Down on your luck, Breton?" came a raspy, and very rough voice from around the bush in front of her. It was the soul of a shirtless Dunmer, who sounded like he'd spent his eternity choking on Skooma pipes. The Elf placed down a book in the dirt and laid down on his stomach like an eccentric and began to write.

"I... suppose you could say that." Cura stated before calling attention to his actions. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Hmph. First the walking bones, and now a stranger. How does anyone expect me to write my opus with all of these rude interruptions?" the Dunmer groaned in frustration.

Cura sat upright. "Opus? What do you mean?"

""What do I mean," indeed! If I hadn't lost all of the pages, I wouldn't be in this predicament and we wouldn't be having this conversation." He flaunted the ruined book at her, revealing several missing slots where pages once rested.

"Okay... who are you?" Cura asked.

"Very well. I suppose a moment or two of my time couldn't hurt. I am Jiub. Some call me Saint Jiub. Others call me Jiub the Eradicator. Perhaps you've heard of me?" the Dunmer postulated.

Cura's jaw dropped. "Yes, of course! From Morrowind! The man who drove the Cliff Racers to extinction!" Wow, now that was a surprise encounter.

"Sometimes I miss their squeals and chirps... but not for long. They used to criss-cross the skies over Morrowind like vermin. Nasty flying creatures with a habit of sneaking up on the unwary."" Jiub recounted the many frenzied battles he'd faced against the flying menaces. "I hunted down and killed every last one of them. Took years. The people of Morrowind were so grateful to have the roads safer again, they took to calling me "Saint Jiub" and then the other names followed."

"Well, I have some bad news and some worse news for you." Cura warned.

"Fine. What's the bad news?" Jiub looked straight at her.

"The bad news is that they're not all gone. I have a friend who hunted them with her father on hunting expeditions in Morrowind." Cura stated, recalling Mjoll's tale.

Jiub looked a little irritated. "And now I fear what the worse news is. They haven't grown to Dragon size, have they?"

"No, the worse news is that you're, well... how do I put this..." Cura scratched her head. "Well... dead. You're dead."

Jiub stared at her blankly. He looked up and down as his mind wandered to the past.

"How did it happen?" Cura asked. "How you're... here, I mean."

"That damn Dremora and his minions. They didn't even give me a chance to explain who I was." Jiub became defensive to history. "Killed me and locked me in yet another prison."

"Prison? You mean the Soul Cairn." Cura tried to correct him.

"Soul what? What in the name of Vivec are you talking about? All I remember is that damned Dremora and his minions bursting into my home and sending me to their prison." Jiub snapped as his mind refused to comprehend the situation he was in.

"Why would a Dremora just... attack you?" Cura asked, unable to see the logic behind it other than from a malicious standpoint.

"Well, that's a ridiculous question. Everyone traveling through here has said that the Oblivion Gates have been opening all over Tamriel." Jiub flailed his hands.

Cura grit her teeth and cringed, realizing when this happened. "That was… much before my time." He was here since the Oblivion Crisis, over two-hundred years ago.

"Has it been that long? Oh my." Jiub began to fret before decomposing himself. "Well, it started with the followers of Mehrunes Dagon having Emperor Uriel Septim VII assassinated. Without a Septim on the throne of the Empire, Dagon was able to leave Oblivion through the gates and attack."

"Why was Dagon able to do this?" Cura wondered if he had any unique insights on the matter. Did he see what happened?

"All I heard is that without a Septim sitting on the throne of the Empire, the Dragonfires in a place called the Temple of the One were no longer lit. This meant that we were vulnerable to the forces of Oblivion."

He just told her what she already learned. She supposed that it made sense, as he was a victim early on in the crisis. "What ended up happening?"

"Well, I don't know. Everything seemed fine until that dremora attacked me. I only heard later about the gates from the other souls. I can only assume the gates have been closed by now." Jiub mused, having heard Cura's profession of being after his time. "I had just moved from my ancestral home in Morrowind to the continent of Cyrodiil. I settled in the city of Kvatch to write my memoirs and to find some peace and quiet."

"Is that where you were attacked?" Cura asked.

"Indeed! One moment I was writing diligently, and the next, my door bursts open. It was a cadre of Dremora. The city was under attack. I took it upon myself to join the cause and fight the dremora, thinking this would simply be another feather in my cap." Jiub began.

"Didn't work out that way I assume." Cura grit her teeth.

"The reason I'm standing in front of you as only a whisper of my former self should tell you that. I never knew what became of Kvatch. I wonder if they were triumphant without me." Jiub leaned his chin on his fist.

"From what I'd learned, Kvatch fell, but was rescued by a great hero and Martin Septim." Cura explained. "The Hero of Kvatch closed the other gates across the heartland, and Martin ultimately sacrificed himself to save everyone from Dagon himself, and destroyed the Amulet of Kings."

"And I missed the chance to be part of all that." Jiub clicked his ethereal tongue. "Life just isn't fair, friend. Far from it."

"If it makes you feel any better, your name is remembered, and quite fondly by many." Cura told him. "Heck, I'm from Skyrim and I've heard of you."

Jiub's flat expression stretched into a big smile. "I'm glad to hear that. I always feared being forgotten. Say, can you do me a favour, now that I've got you?"

"Uh, sure." Cura smiled. "What is it?"

"I'm going to find the missing pages from my Opus. When I do I'll find you and hand it to you; then can you take it to the world?" Jiub asked, immediately leaping on the first opportunity he's had in centuries.

There didn't seem to be any harm in it. "Sure." Cura agreed. "I can try."

"Thank you!" Jiub exclaimed as his heart leapt with joy. He quickly scurried onto his feet and rushed to begin his search.

Cura felt pity for the disheartened Dunmer. If she could grant him some solace, she would. Even if he escaped through the portal, he could never live again. At the very least, he should be remembered by history going forward.

She turned to Arvak, who had already vanished. Rumbling thunder roamed the skies overhead. Cura knew she couldn't linger about for much longer.

"There she is!" she overheard Serana's voice approaching from some feet away. When she turned to look, she saw her, and also Carcette running her way.

"Here we go again!" Cura quickly withdrew her mace and pulled up her shield. She took in a breath. "FUS-"

Carcette quickly staggered mid-run and was immediately about to leap to her left, when Serana intervened.

"Wait, Cura!" Serana jumped in front of her, stopping the Shout from exiting her throat by putting her hand over her mouth. "It's okay! She's come back to her senses!"

Cura wrenched herself away. "Yeah, sure! For how long?" She was soured by their last encounter. This was twice. Twice that this vampire Carcette lulled her into a false sense of security and twice that she has attempted to kill her.

She was not the same. Cura was delusional for hoping so, and naïve for trusting her. Has she been waiting for an opportunity like this?

Cura was unsure about how to approach her, but maintained a careful distance with held breath.

The accursed Soul Cairn. What was this place doing to them?

"Cura, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..." Carcette approached her, pleading for reason, but Cura responded by swinging her mace at her threateningly, almost catching her in the chest with a downward arc.

"Get back!" Cura snapped as she lunged forward and swung at her again. "Back! Or else I'll smash your head in!" She was nearly raving like a madwoman, but she could not be too cautioous.

Serana stood back herself as she pursed the situation, and Carcette was visibly hurt by the immediate hostility on display; even if it was not unfounded.

Cura was menaced by her mere presence. She managed to bring her breathing to a steady rhythm as she continued to point her weapon forward. "Keep... keep your distance!"

Carcette slowly walked backwards a few steps, respecting her demands. "All right. All right, I'm moving back, see?" She held up her hands and maintained a respectable distance.

Cura knew that she could not avoid her, especially not since she was a distinct, very visible entity in this realm. Still, the younger Breton was going to watch her back; she knew that Serana could be trusted, since she needed her. Beyond that, Cura still wasn't entirely sure. It was all a big mound of confusion to her. "We'll talk about this later." Cura continued to walk into the material void before them. "Serana, make sure she doesn't try that again."

They had more important things to deal with right now.

Serana nodded. "Don't worry, I've got my eye on her."

Carcette looked a tad insulted, but saw the larger task at hand. She held her forehead in her hand. Curse this body, and Harkon, too. Curse these vampires, and the Soul Cairn as well.

Cura saw what looked like a very large tower, with a large, skeletal being sitting down at the bottom of it, overseeing many ghosts who were being siphoned by a gem, much in the same way she was by the Ideal Master.

The Soul Cairn Keeper stood much taller than the petite Cura, and wore a set of Dragonplate Armor, but without a helmet, instead revealing a face shrouded entirely in darkness, but bearing the essence of a skull and a pair of glowing blue eyes. He was wielding what looked like a battleaxe made from Dragon Bone. The minute the Keeper saw Cura approach, he stood up from the steps he was perched upon and rushed towards her, weapon in hands.

"Here we go." Cura readied her weapons to meet the foe head-on.

Carcette and Serana took to the left and right flanks while Cura took the center.

The Keeper swung his battleaxe forward, attempting to scoop the trio, but Serana spun around and slashed his left arm.

Carcette dropped down on his right shoulder with Stendarr's Hammer, cracking the Dragonplate pauldron.

Cura caught the axe mid-swing, blocking it with her shield. "FUS!" came her Shout, knocking him backwards, and following up with a mace swing, which caught the black-misted face.

The fiend was not yet down for the count - not even close. He maneuvered to the right and harshly punched Cura in the chest, stunning her before butting her over the forehead with the shaft of his battleaxe. Thankfully, the close range prevented him from using the blade itself.

Cura hit the ground and quickly scrambled to her feet, and rolled away to dodge a downward swipe. The blade of the Battleaxe cleaved the air and then embedded into the dirt, becoming stuck.

Cura wiped some blood off her forehead and immediately looked at Carcette, as if to warn her to stay away when she noticed the bloodthirsty vampiress looking at her.

Carcette cringed upon seeing the open wound on Cura's forehead, but could not take her eye away from the blood.

No. She would not attack again. No. Never.

She shook off the urge and redirected her hostility towards the Cairn Keeper, rushing him and slamming his head down before he could pull the Battleaxe from the ground. She dashed around and rebounded, catching his left side and then dashing into his chest and driving him away from the weapon and into the wall with a violent slam.

The Cairn Keeper quickly grabbed Carcette and hit her across the face with his elbow, staggering her backwards and following up with a kick in the chest. The fiend ran back to his battleaxe and laid hands on the shaft. The Cairn Keeper wrenched the axe out of the ground, only to receive one of Serana's sharp icicles in the face.

Bonemen came out of the ground and attacked Serana, to which she diligently thrust her hand out and broke into the ribcage of one, and removed the soul gem that was put in place of its heart, exanimating the monstrosity.

The Cairn Keeper faced Cura and did the unthinkable."FUS RO DAH!" the demon Shouted with a shadowed, raspy voice, and a mighty shockwave threw Cura backwards, spiralling through the air and hitting against a large rock.

Serana spun her head when she heard the familiar words. "That thing is a Dragonborn?!" She and Cura immediately locked gazes, both taken by surprise that the mission actually bore fruit, as far as Serana's suspicions and fears were concerned.

"Or perhaps it was." Carcette mused when she considered it. "A Dragonborn who lost his soul to the Ideal Masters and was forced under their servitude."

Serana wiped her nose and took a few steps to the left, examining the shaded fiend from a new vantage point. "Their Dragon Souls are still there, I'd bet; just trapped inside the Black Soul Gems in their chests, assuming that the other two are like this one."

Cura shivered as she pulled herself up, using the bloodied rock for balance. Her left shoulder was torn open by the impact and she grit her teeth, seething out the shearing pain as it roared within her like a Bear. Her eyes met the blue, glowing orbs in the black smoke of the Keeper's head.

This could have been her, then.

When she looked at the Cairn Keeper with that knowledge, she saw herself in him. If she couldn't recover her soul piece, would she have become this eventually?

The Cairn Keeper took aim at Serana, and Shouted. "IIZ SLEN NUS!"

A frozen vapour emerged from the wraithlike being's face, swirling about the air and creating crackling bits of ice from the moisture in the air, and creating a freezing patch that rode along the ground towards Serana.

Cura acted quickly. "YOL TOOR!" A ravaging flame emerged from her position, travelling straight into the wave of ice, melting a great deal of it before it could touch Serana.

The vampiress was merely splashed with bits of cold water and frost as she stood there, astonished.

Cura noted the words that the Cairn Keeper Shouted. "Iiz, Slen, Nus."

"Ice," "Flesh," "Statue."

Ice; water in its stillest state, movement of all things within slowed to a harmonious still. As the winds of the Pale made her feel slow growing up, so too does the frigid air slow down all things, beginning with the water in one's own body.

Flesh: all living creatures had this, and regretted so under harsh conditions, as the flesh was the first part of the body to respond to the cold; and yet this miraculous elastic encasing was what guarded the living's innermost secrets; their bones, their organs, and most importantly, their soul.

Statue: beautiful sculptures formed in the likeness of man or elf, commemorating both the Divine and the mundane in different circumstances. Chiseled from stone, molded from clay, or gilded with gold, statues all had one defining trait, and that was their motionlessness. They would forever ramain in the default position they were created in.

Ice, Flesh, Statue.

The Shout with intent to encase a victim in a hard shell of frost, covering their skin and preventing motion.

Iiz Slen Nus.

Cura would take note of that.

Carcette dashed forward and rammed into the Cairn Keeper's chest, knocking him down onto his back and away from the battleaxe, which flew from his hands some feet away, becoming lodged between two large rocks.

Cura unsheathed Dawnbreaker at long last, bringing it out into the dark light. The blade burned the very air around it and formed azure sparks, wafting in the winds.

Carcette turned around to see Cura approaching her and the Cairn Keeper, one step at a time, her sword pointed to the floor, but ready to eliminate.

Her thoughts raced in many directions.

Was Cura about to...

Carcette could not believe it. She quickly drew her Warhammer as Cura approached and raised her sword.

Cura's eyes were laser-focused forward, and she walked around Carcette, much to her relief, and made a straight line for the Cairn Keeper.

As he squirmed in attempt to stand, Cura plunged Dawnbreaker into the Ideal Masters' puppet's face, igniting it in blue fire, killing the foe once and for all. The Keeper's body continued to immolate as it collapsed to the ground. The flames dissolved it down to the last particle, and left nothing behind.

As the beast's body dissipated, so too did the energy beam that was siphoning the souls of the people, and they immediately took to the landscape, fleeing their gross captivity.

Cura twirled her sword and placed it back in its sheath, though she kept her hand on its pommel. "Thank you, Meridia."

Carcette slowly approached and extended a hand. "Cura..."

Cura quickly jumped backwards, and looked her up and down, studying her intent. She did not seem hostile, so Cura removed her hand from Dawnbreaker at last.

Serana took a few steps forward, and stood at Cura's side.

Carcette looked mildly annoyed now. "I was going to lay Healing Hands on her."

"Sure." Cura cast a Healing Spell on herself, sealing up the wound. "Well, I can do it myself."

"Then don't be so negligent!" Carcette snapped at her. "It's hard enough to keep myself in check without the scent of blood wafting through the air! Take care of yourself, will you?"

Cura scoffed and continued onwards.

The next couple of fights with the Bonemen, Wrathman, Mistman, and Keepers went hairy as well, with the second essentially cornering Cura on a ledge at the top of one of the towers. Looking over her right shoulder, she could see the ground very far away, calling to a poor fool from below. That fool was not going to be her, however.

The Keeper leaned back slightly, readying a Shout, in the hopes of sending Cura down there to meet the hard earth. However, this only provided her with the condition she needed to leap to the side and shove him off the eighty-foot high platform, where gravity did the rest of the work for her.

The third fight in what seemed to be the middens of the Soul Cairn went far smoother, now that the trio knew what to expect. Carcette and Serana held off the horde of undead while Cura handled the Keeper alone.

Though she was growing weary, Cura chugged a Potion of Stamina and continued to block, dodge, and parry this fiend's Dragonbone Mace. An interesting weapon, to be sure, but Cura much preferred her Elven Mace.

With a leap over his thrust forward, Cura smashed her mace into the collarbone of his armor, and,busing the hook like ridge on her mace's head, tugged him forward so that she could reach into his dark inner void and pey out the Black Soul Gem within.

The body fell limp to the ground and slowly dissolved into ectoplasm; armour and all.

Cura wiped her brow and exhaled.

It was done. The three Keepers were taken down.

The final Soul Gem that powered that barrier stopped draining the small group of souls nearby and they all fled, dispersing in many directions, joining the others in temporary emancipation.

Carcette and Serana met with Cura once more, and called attention to the Black Soul Gem that remained.

"Do you think you could use that for... a certain something?" Cura looked to Carcette as she held up the Black Soul Gem, hinting towards Falion. "Technically, we didn't Soul Trap anyone... they already were."

Carcette felt a slight inkling of relief creep up on her, only to be immediately dispelled by Serana. "Unfortunately, no. That Soul Gem is cursed by the Soul Cairn... and mostly used up. I don't think it could be used to replace the life you've lost. I'm sorry, Carcette."

Carcette crossed her arms. "Then let's forget we ever mentioned it and get out of this horrible place."

"I'm sorry." Serana apologized regretfully. "We'll be out of here very soon. Let's just go and find my mother. The barrier should be gone now."

The walk back to the barrier was cold and filled with restless tension. Cura periodically would turn around and look at Carcette, watching her every movement, while Carcette exhaustedly marched behind them as her bloodlust continued to eat her from within. Periodically, she could be seen biting her hand in attempt to soothe whatever demonic desire was driving her.

She hoped Stendarr could understand. She was trying. She was trying so hard to resist.

How did vampires exist like this? How could Valerica survive in here for this long?

The prison was coming closer and closer, and Cura and Serana took their first steps up the broken down stairs. They could immediately note the lack of a magenta hue over the landscape, hinting at the disappearance of the barrier. Cura approached Valerica with Serana at her side, and they were able to enter her space, now that the magenta-hued blockade was eliminated.

Valerica stood there in disbelief, herself. "You managed to destroy all three Keepers? Very impressive." She clearly didn't think Cura was serious about what she said, but was pleasantly surprised at the mettle of this mortal.

Without a moment's hesitation, Serana hurried over to her, and, for the first time in centuries, took her mother into an embrace.

The vampiress was moved to tears as she rested in her mother's tender grasp. Valerica gently stroked her daughter's dark brown hair and smiled. "My Serana..." Something reawakened in the older vampiress. A feeling long-lost to time, and to death: love. Love for her only child. For so long she had been consumed with coldness, with obsession, with defiance, with isolation, and with pragmatism, that she had forgotten how it felt to care for another. Slwoly, the warmth began to wash over her, and the necromancess felt almost alive, dare she say.

"It wasn't easy, but they thankfully weren't fully sentient." Cura explained. "The Keepers would have been far deadlier if they were. I suppose that was the Ideal Masters' folly."

"Indeed; it was a price to pay on their own part, desiring perfectly loyal minions. They had to cut away their free will, and transform them into mere puppets." Valerica explained as she continued to grasp Serana. "They would never betray their captors, but would lose their ingenuity. I suppose it is a case of perfect irony."

Carcette kept a distance away from Cura, and walked towards Valerica, breaking up the short reunion. "Are you able to give us the scroll now?"

Valerica quickly recalled the goal of their arrival and went to business immediately. "Yes. Please, follow me. Keep watch for Durnehviir. With the prison's barrier down, he's almost certain to investigate."

"Durnehviir…" Cura quietly whispered the name. What did it mean? The Dragons' names were supposed to have a meaning. This one was not coming to her easily. Perhaps she was pronouncing it incorrectly?

The Dragon.

They had to advance with caution. There was no telling how powerful this Dragon would be, if he retained sentience.

Valerica headed over to the large set of doors behind her and pushed them open, and they led outwards into a large, circular arenalike space.

Cura walked beside Serana. "How are you feeling, Serana?"

The vampiress smiled to her friend. "I... feel as though a large weight was lifted off of my shoulders. It felt so good, just to hug her again..." She wrapped her arms around herself and smiled.

Cura turned her head to look at Carcette, who was trailing behind them. "I know." she responded sadly. "At least you can trust Valerica."

Serana seemed to understand Cura's plight. "I'm sure she'll be cured one day. Just try to be patient and keep up your guard for now."

Cura's thoughts returned then to the days past when she was cursed with Lycanthropy, courtesy of the incident at Dustman's Cairn. When she had the Cursed Ring of Hircine, she would lose control of herself and grow violent and bloodcrazed, herself.

And even in the midst of all that, with the Daedric Influence, when she would have been designated for destruction, the then Keeper Carcette broke the rules to protect her.

Aela informed her that she almost killed Keeper Carcette and the others, and would likely have succeeded if not for her own intervention.

Carcette forgave her and led the others, going out of her way, to find a cure for Cura.

The more Cura thought about it, she realized that the shoe was on the other foot now, and Carcette needed her support; not her scorn.

She was silent and mostly stoic, but Cura could see that she was hurting. Perhaps she was being a tad unreasonable, true, but how else could she handle this? There were no preparations or plans detailed by the Vigil for this kind of scenario. Their rules would simply dictate that Cura should slay Carcette, and even Serana, as well. But Cura could never find it in herself to kill either of them.

When she thought about it further, she is bound by oath to slay Valerica, as well, but she just couldn't. She knew how badly it would hurt Serana, and she couldn't. Just as she could never even think of killing Vilkas, Aela, Farkas, and Kodlak even though they were all Werewolves. She cared for them; befriended them! Even... missed them. Why did it have to be so complicated?

"Are you ready for this?" Serana asked Cura as they continued to shadow Valerica's steps.

Cura snapped out of her thoughts. "Ready for what?"

"We might have to fight that Dragon. Think you can do it?" Serana reminded the sleepyhead of the potential looming threat.

"Do I have a choice?" Cura asked.

Serana shook her head. "Probably not."

"Then as long as you have my back, I'm ready." Cura stated.

Serana smiled and nodded. "Of course. You can count on me, Dragonborn." She spoke the title teasingly, and Cura rolled her eyes and shook her head as they finally entered into the large, open area.

"The Elder Scroll is just a bit further." Valerica stated as she made a right turn and pointed towards a nook in the arena's eastern wall.

Suddenly, from the skies above, a loud, and enshrouded Roar echoed through the area.

"DURNEHVIIR!" Valerica exclaimed with dread. "He has come!"

The Dragon's raspy voice Shouted before he even entered into their view. "DIIL QOTH ZAAM!"

Lightning resounded in response and struck the ground in the center of the arena, summoning forth Bonemen, which crawled up out of the soil. Mistmen began to materialize from the thin air around the group, and Wrathmen descended from the walls around them, dropping into the arena like a squad of Hellions.

A terrifying vision of a green Dragon loomed overhead, rotten from head to toe with decomposing flesh, hanging in strands from parts of its wings and over its exposed ribcage, soaked in ghastly fluids that gleamed under the light espoused by the striking bolts of lightning in the sky above. His body bore a resemblance to the Frost Dragon Cura encountered in Haafingar, but with long, protruding spikes from the back of his neck and riding his spine down to his tail. Four horns sprouted from his head, the top two curled like the horns of a Ram.

He was quite unique, all things considered.

Daunting, ghostly, wretched.

This was exactly the sort of image Cura had in her mind of a Dragon that dwelled within the Soul Cairn.

"Cura!" Carcette called out to her from some distance. "We'll fight the skeletal minions! You handle Durnehviir!"

Cura nodded. "All right!" She focused her eyes upon the beast, following his circling movements through the blackened sky.

Durnehviir stopped in place, hovering over Cura, and pulled his head back. "RII VAAZ ZOL!" A blast of purple energy exited his throat, and Cura took immediate care to get out of the way of this unknown Shout.

"WULD NA!" Cura rushed to the left, far gone from its impact.

The Dragon tilted his head for a moment as his wings continued to beat to keep him afloat before turning around and flying around one of the large spires outside of the arena.

Cura conjured a couple of Fireballs and launched them towards the airborne menace, one of them connecting with his foot, causing him to stumble in surprise and smash against the spire in front of him and tumble down to the floor of the arena.

Cura rushed towards her foe and leapt on top of him, and began to smack him repeatedly with her mace.

It did not take long for Durnehviir to pry himself up off the ground and lift off back into the air, with Cura clinging onto one of his long, protruding spikes as he began to fly. He aimed downwards at her allies below, who were swarmed with undead enemies. "RII--"

Cura quickly withdrew Dawnbreaker with her free hand and plunged it into the back of his rotting neck, causing the Dragon to wail in pain and throttle about in attempt to throw her off. Cura only pushed the burning sword in further, causing rotting yellow blood to pour out, and the sword began to slide downwards, carving into his flesh like a Jack-O-Lantern.

"No, no..." Cura grunted as she feared it loosening while she was high off the ground. She attempted to keep the sword hooked within his flesh, but all it took was a backwards thrash from Durnehviir, and Cura slid loose from him and began to plunge down towards the earth below.

As Cura began her descent, Durnehviir looped around and targeted her directly, closing in on her with his open mouth and clamping down, in attempt to swallow the Breton.

"CURA!" Serana shouted from below as she witnessed the spectacle. She fired a couple of icicles towards the Dragon, but Durnehviir whipped them with his tail, shrugging them off.

Serana was then attacked by a Wrathman, and Valerica intervened quickly with a wall of fire that she conjured between them.

Carcette fought viciously, but was being overcome by four Wrathmen that pushed her down with violent blows that she attempted to parry with the shaft of Stendarr's Hammer. She called upon the Divine's Aura, and was granted her prayer, and the light caused the demons to back away with fear. She immediately proceeded to lay a Circle of Protection for herself and her allies to regroup from the horde.

Cura was now in the jaws of the Dragon, pushing open his mouth, using both hands to hold up the roof of his mouth to prevent his jaws from snapping shut. She was becoming covered in the disgusting yellow fluid, which began to seep onto her robes and hood. She could only thank the Divines that she was wearing her hood.

From the bottom of the Dragon's throat, he began to try and Shout at Cura, who was directly in point-blank range of impact. "IIZ-"

That bastard!

Cura nearly lost her footing with dismay at the situation, but instead decided to give Durnheviir a taste of his own medicine.

Okay, If you want to play that way, then allow me to oblige! She thought to herself as she spoke quickly. "FUS RO DAH!" Cura's shockwave disintegrated the forming ice, and caused Durnehviir to begin to hack and choke and throttle about in the air. His mouth opened wide as he thrusted his head from side to side, and Cura went flying out of the gaping maw, and landing straight at the top of the arena's western wall.

When Cura made impact with the solid stone, she nearly slipped out of consciousness. All she could hear was a shrill ringing noise, and her vision was blurred. Blood came spiling out of her mouth as she pulled herself into a near-push-up position.

Durnehviir writhed on the floor below, thrashing as he continued to choke on his own Ice Body Shout that had gotten lodged in his throat.

Cura leapt down from the wall and landed firmly with a tuck and a roll, and quickly limped past a couple of stray Bonemen, blocking their attacks with her Spellbreaker as she continued to drag herself towards her target. The Nord in her blood would not allow her to give up now.

Durnehviir managed to finally hack out the ice and Cura began to pick up her pace, going from a fast limp to a wounded dash as Durnhviir took the distance between them to cast the Shout again. "IIZ SLEN NUS!" A violent whirling mist rushed towards the disheveled Vigilant.

"STRUN BAH QO!" Cura cried out to the heavens, which responded with great rains and a bolt of lightning, which made immediate collision with Durnehviir's Shout, causing the lightning bolt to become a long, streaking pillar of ice, stretching up into the sky.

Durnehviir looked at the spectacle with awe, and Cura herself looked to the Dragon, then to the Frozen column of lightning. She hadn't ever thought such a thing possible.

Valerica's jaw dropped when she witnessed it, as well as Serana and Carcette.

Bonemen began to scatter about as lightning and violent rain poured down upon them, dissipating the Mistmen, and the horrifying Wrathmen merely became lightning conduits.

Durnehviir smiled and regained love for battle, shouting back at Cura. "RII VAAZ ZOL!"

Cura quickly took shelter behind the frozen lightning bolt, clamping her back to it as the purple energy pushed past it. She then whirled around the column and Shouted again. "GAAN!" Her bluish-violet wave of energy made contact, but did not seem to do much to Durnehviir.

"It's like watching a deadly verbal debate..." Carcette mused from the safety of her Circle of Protection.

"Then I'm going to be an arbiter!" Serana wanted to rush out to help Cura, but Valerica quickly held her back.

"No, child! Durnehviir will destroy you!" Valerica pulled her backwards as a mother would in such a scenario.

Serana wrenched herself free. "I'm not going to stand back! Cura needs my help!" She hurried out of the Circle, leaving her mother behind.

"Reckless child!" Valerica cried out.

Carcette laid a hand on Valerica's shoulder. "Then we must help, as well." She left the Circle of Protection and withdrew her warhammer. Quickly, the former Keeper took to the air, flying towards the Dragon.

Valerica sighed, resigning herself to fight against her tormentor.

Cura quickly turned to face her approaching allies. "STAY BACK!" She outstretched her arm. "This is between me and him!"

Serana flinched and stepped backwards upon hearing the declaration, and Carcette and Valerica held back as well. Durnehviir only looked at the three of them and nudged his head to the side, signaling for them to get out of the way.

This was indeed a battle between two Dragons.

Cura and Durnehviir locked eyes in that instant, and they knew. This was a battle for freedom. His, or hers.

One of them was not going home after this fight.

A couple of stray lghtning bolts hit the walls, and one struck Durnehviir in the head, disorienting him.

Cura quickly cast a Healing Spell on herself, removing the injuries she'd sustained in the fight, and Durnehviir rushed forward, attempting to bite her, but Cura was swift, ducking under his mighty jaws and grabbing one of his horns, using it to hoist herself up onto his head.

Quickly, Cura took Dawnbreaker, turned it upside down, and plunged the blade into the Dragon's forehead.

Durnehviir cried out and began to thrash about as more rotted blood began to spew forth from his mouth. Quickly, the Dragon became consumed with darkness and smoke.

Cura hung on tightly before finding the right angle of descent, to which she wrested the blade free and stumbled off the side of the Dragon's writhing neck.

With one last attempt before his destruction, Durnehviir swiped Cura with his tail, but she blocked it with her shield, narrowly avoiding the sharp spike and merely landing flat on her back against the cold floor.

With one final cry, Durnehviir dissipated into the air, taking the dark aura away and vanishing with the violent winds of Cura's Storm.

The air began to still around them all, leaving behind eerie tranquility in the Soul Cairn.

Cura slid a little in the mud as she slowly sat upright. Serana offered a hand to her Dragonborn friend, and Cura took it, and was lifted out of the wet dirt.

Carcette, without warning, leapt onto Cura, causing the young Breton to nearly panic, but quickly realized that Carcette was merely embracing her. Cura hesitated for a moment, but ultimately buried her face in Carcette's right shoulder and wrapped her arms around her mentor.

"Forgive my astonishment, but I never thought I'd witness the death of that dragon." Valerica interrupted them as she assessed the situation.

"What makes you say that?" Cura asked as she slowly loosed from Carcette.

"Volumes written on Durnehviir allege that he can't be slain by normal means. It appears they were mistaken. Unless..." Valerica began to ponder.

Cura urged her to express her point. "Go on."

"The soul of a Dragon is as resilient as its owner's scaly hide. It's possible that your killing blow has merely displaced Durnehviir's physical form while he reconstitutes himself." Valerica theorized.

Cura's eyes widened. "Well, it explains why I didn't absorb his soul... How long will that take?"

"Minutes? Hours? Years? I can't even begin to guess. I suggest we don't wait around to find out. Now, let's get you the Elder Scroll and you can be on your way." Valerica led them to the small nook in the wall where she had an Alchemy laboratory with various ingredients and books lain out on tables and on benches. On the mantle, the main centerpiece, was a long chest.

Cura looked at Serana.

"No. You, Cura. You defeated that beast, so you should do the honours." Serana insisted.

The Vigilant slowly opened the long chest, and a luminous glow shone forth from within. When the light calmed itself, there it lay; the Elder Scroll. Carcette and Serana peered over her shoulder to see.

It was beautiful; ominous; otherworldly. After that fight, Cura had definitely earned it.

"Now that you've retrieved the Elder Scroll, you should be on your way." Valerica suggested to Cura.

Cura handed the Scroll to a now-disappointed Serana. She faced Valerica. "You're staying here?"

"I have no choice. As I told you before, I'm a Daughter of Coldharbour, a Vampire offspring of Molag Bal." Valerica shook her head, downcast at the prospect of not being able to. "If I return to Tamriel, that increases Harkon's likelihood of bringing the Tyranny of the Sun to fruition. He would likely sense my return to Tamriel. The last thing you need right now is a trail for him to follow." She exhaled deeply, and turned to look at her daughter. "As well, after what I've put Serana through, I would understand if she never wished to see me again. I leave that decision in your hands."

Cura held no protest. "I won't keep you and Serana separated forever. We'll return when we can."

"Thanks, Cura." Serana expressed.

"I appreciate your concern for me, but Serana is all that I care about. You must keep her safe at all cost." Valerica instructed, placing great emphasis on that. "Remember that Harkon isn't to be trusted. No matter what he promises, he'll deceive you in order to get what he wants. Promise me you'll keep my daughter safe. She's the only thing of value I have left."

Cura shook her head. "I have no intention on bargaining with Harkon. I plan to make his demise swift, and just. I will do my best to keep Serana safe, I promise."

"Would you return if Harkon failed?" Carcette leaned against the wall nearby.

"The only way I'd even consider returning to Tamriel was if Harkon were not only to fail, but to be destroyed." Valerica emphasized with a squeeze of her fist, which made Serana shake lightly.

"You hate him that much?" Serana asked her mother sadly.

"You must understand he's no longer the man I married all that time ago. He's obsessed... insane. Everyone around him fears him as they would a rabid dog. For all of this to end, he must die." Valerica stated to the others as she took a seat beside the alchemy table.

Carcette nodded. "He does have a propensity to fly off the handle very quickly. I witnessed it firsthand."

"Perhaps he truly is mad." Cura wondered. "Can longevity end with madness?"

"For many, yes." Valerica stated. "Living in stasis can make one go mad if they have nothing to anchor them to life. I... fear that I may have headed down that oath had it not been for my attachment to Serana. You may lose yourself as well, unless you can bind yourself to something, Carcette." Valerica warned the former Keeper.

"I've bound myself to Stendarr." Carcette stated firmly.

"And to your daughter?" Valerica pointed to Cura.

"She's not..." Carcette looked at Cura, and then back at Valerica. "technically, she's not my daughter. I love her like one, yes, but we are not related in any way by blood."

"I see." Valerica mused, scratching her chin. "That embrace suggested otherwise. My mistake. Though, I do see your hesitance."

"Does Harkon not love Serana at all?" Carcette asked.

"He did, once." Valerica stated. "But after he had given all to Molag Bal, he lost the capacity to love. Perhaps..." she paused for a moment. "Perhaps Mara has cursed him for his bitter betrayal."

Cura nodded sadly. "I saw the statue in the Tower. If it means anything, I did clean it and undo the damage surrounding it. Mara is willing to forgive Serana, at the very least, she told me."

Valerica was surprised. "You actually spoke to Mara? Hm. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye, aside from the Dragonblood within your veins. You're different from any other vampire hunter I've encountered."

Cura smiled. "I just want to bring peace to this restless land. I want to bring joy back to the downtrodden, and hope to the despairing. That's all."

"A noble goal." Valerica saw them off, as they headed towards the exit of the arena. "Farewell. Remember that Harkon's not to be trusted."

The group understood this very well. A collective sigh of relief escaped the three of them when they came to the conclusion of their excursion. They exited the prison area and Serana spoke first. "I hope she's going to be all right."

Cura smiled reassuringly. "She will. Once we've defeated Harkon we're going to come back here and inform her."

Serana had something to look forward to in the endgame. "Cura, I also wanted to say that I'm sorry, for everything. I realize now that it wasn't exactly cool of me to drag you into this."

"It's all right. I'm glad you did, in the end." Cura told her. "Everything you feared came to pass, but some positive things came from it. We have the Scroll, you met Valerica, many souls are no longer being used to power those spires, and Durnehviir is defeated for now." They paused in place for a moment, and Cura continued. "That is to say, I forgive you."

"You're too forgiving." Serana shook her head. "I'd despise me if I were you. I would have used me as leverage to get the Elder Scroll from Valerica."

"Then be thankful that the Vigil of Stendarr raised her to be merciful." Carcette stated plainly. As much as Serana and Valerica seemed to look down upon Carcette and her organization, they taught the Dragonborn how to appreciate the benefits of mercy and justice, both.

Suddenly, Cura noticed that they were standing beneath a large shadow, and quickly looked up to see Durnehviir there, in the flesh, looming on a piece of building just a little ahead of them.

"Oh, no!" Cura exclaimed as she readied her weapons for another battle.

"Stay your weapons. I would speak with you, Qahnaarin." Durnehviir finally spoke, much to their surprise.

Cura respected his wishes. "I thought you were dead."

"Cursed, not dead. Doomed to exist in this form for eternity. Trapped between laas and dinok, between life and death." the undead Dragon lamented his fate.

"Why did you call me "Qahnaarin?"" Cura asked, uncertain of the word.

"My claws have rended the flesh of innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the field of battle. I therefore honor-name you "Qahnaarin," or Vanquisher in your tongue." Durnehviir bowed his head to the victor. "You are the Dovahkiin. The Dragonborn. You may not be one of us in body, but you have earned the right to bear this title."

A humble, and very honoured feeling beamed within Cura when she heard this. She won the respect of an ancient Dragon. Until now, all she had done was fight them as foes, but to actually converse with one, and to be spoken to with great respect and acknowledgement from one felt incredible. The icing on the cake was the fact that Carcette was there to witness it. She smiled and bowed her head back to Durnehviir. "Thank you. I found you equally worthy."

"Your words do me great honor. My desire to speak with you was born from the result of our battle, Qahnaarin." Durnehviir stated, getting to his intentions. "I merely wish to respectfully ask a favor of you."

"What kind of a favor?" Cura asked.

"For countless years I've roamed the Soul Cairn, in unintended service to the Ideal Masters. Before this, I roamed the skies above Tamriel. I desire to return there." Durnehviir stated. "But now, I fear that my time here has taken its toll upon me. I share a bond with this dreaded place. If I ventured far from the Soul Cairn, my strength would begin to wane until I was no more."

Cura felt the Dragon's plight. "How could I help?"

Durnehviir's expression lit up when Cura asked. "I will place my name with you and grant you the right to call my name from Tamriel. Do for me this simple honor and I will fight at your side as your Grah-Zeymahzin, your Ally, and teach you my Thu'um."

It was that simple? "Just call your name in Tamriel? That's it?"

"Trivial in your mind perhaps, to me, it would mean a great deal. I don't require an answer, Qahnaarin. Simply speak my name to the heavens when you feel the time is right." Durnehviir expressed.

Cura was more than happy to oblige such a request. To help a wayward soul, certainly. To have a Dragon ally? Incredible! "Certainly. I'd be happy to!"

Serana stepped forward. |How did you end up in the Soul Cairn?"

"There was a time when I called Tamriel my home. But those days have long since passed." Durnehviir recounted. "The Dovah roamed the skies, vying for their small slices of territory that resulted in immense and ultimately fatal battles."

"Were you a part of all that?" Carcette asked.

"I was. But unlike some of my brethren, I sought solutions outside the norm in order to maintain my superiority. I began to explore what the Dovah call "Alok-Dilon," the ancient forbidden art that you call necromancy." Durnehviir confessed.

Dragons did necromancy? Odd, but probably not much of a surprise.

"So you sought the Soul Cairn for answers." Serana stated.

"The Ideal Masters assured me that my powers would be unmatched, that I could raise legions of the undead. In return, I was to serve them as a Keeper until the death of the one who calls herself Valerica." Durnehviir stated with great bitterness.

Cura figured it out immediately. "They didn't tell you she was immortal."

"I discovered too late that the Ideal Masters favor deception over honor and had no intention of releasing me from my binding. They had control of my mind, but fortunately they couldn't possess my soul." Durnehviir stated with prideful spite against his captors.

"Is that why you're free now?" Cura asked.

"Free? No. I have been here too long, Qahnaarin. The Soul Cairn has become a part of what I am. I could never fully call Tamriel my home again, or I would surely perish." Durnehviir explained the unfortunate aspect of his contemporary existence. "I only hope that you will allow me the precious moments of time there through your call."

"I will. That's a promise." Cura assured him.

"Thank you, Qahnaarin." Durnehviir lifted off the building and began to flap his wings. "That means more to me than you will ever know." He began to take to the air and flew away, northwest.

"Let's get out of this place so I can quench this horrible thirst." Carcette was the first to begin walking.

Cura's leg was still stiffened from her duel with Durnehviir, and it was becoming a hindrance to her. She and Serana followed her all the way to the portal, where they saw souls walking up the stairs and into the light. Vigilant Brynn was overseeing their escape from the dark realm.

"The Ideal Masters can't be too happy about that." Cura wondered as the sky above them began to shake in response to the mass exodus happening. Lightning began to rain down towards the portal, in attempt to force it to close, but Valerica's spellcraft was fighting it off.

Cura looked at the spectacle with great awe. The one good thing she could attribute to necromancy was this.

"Hey! Wait!" A raspy voice called out to Cura as she and her allies began to run towards the portal.

Violent winds picked up and Wrathmen began to claw out of the ground by the hundreds. Cura faced the voice that called out to her, and it was St. Jiub.

"Jiub!" Cura exclaimed in surprise as she noticed the portal beginning to tighten. Vigilant Brynn nodded to them and signalled for them to hurry as the sky began to spit red lightning towards the ground below.

"Please, I won't make it in time!" Jiub pleaded with her. "Take it! My Opus! Bring it out to the world!" He quickly threw the book to Cura, and she lunged forward to catch it.

Cura began to limp towards the exit with the book in tow, and Serana rushed back to her wounded friend and grabbed her by the waist to help her run. They swiftly rushed the steps upwards as the violent winds battled them. Carcette met them near the exit and, grabbing Serana's hand, managed to yank her and Cura through the portal before the Ideal Masters forced it shut.

Cura caught one last glimpse of St. Jiub, and she gave him a thumbs up in response.

Lucien and Inigo were both captivated with fear as many souls began to fly out of the portal and fill the room, and seep out through the castle walls.

"YEEK!" Lucien screamed, but Inigo managed to stifle him with a hand over his mouth.

The portal began to change its colour from violet to blue, to black, when Carcette, Serana, and Cura rushed out. Immediately, the portal closed shortly behind the trio.

Inigo and Lucien looked at each other, and then at the soul of Vigilant Brynn, who remained standing in the corner of the room.

"You were right." the ghostly Vigilant spoke to Cura and Carcette. "We are free. Not all of us, but many. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. May Stendarr watch over you and guide you to victory. I shall be by his side." He slowly began to vanish into thin air, leaving them with this consolation.

Cura smiled triumphantly and went over to Inigo, capturing him in an embrace, "We've done it. We've got the Scroll! We've saved many souls. It was a success!" Tears of joy streaked from her eyes.

"I am glad to hear it, my friend!" Inigo laughed lightly as he reciprocated the embrace with Cura.

"Serana, did you find your mother?" Lucien asked her out of concern, to which Serana responded happily.

"I did. She's doing well. We'll tell you all about it on the way to Fort Dawnguard." Serana stated without the usual expected snark. The group headed out the door on the east side of the study and out onto the Balcony of the Castle.

It was nightfall, and the sun was nearly gone. They had to move quickly.

Cura used her Fast Travel spell to carry the group all the way to Dayspring Canyon, and they landed right in front of the doors.

Though nauseated from the spiralling sensation, Cura managed to run up the stairs with her limp and shoved open the doors excitedly. "WE HAVE IT!" She screamed loudly, garnering the attention of all members of the Dawnguard and Vigil who were within. "WE HAVE IT! WE HAVE THE ELDER SCROLL!"

Isran peered over the balcony above, as did Sorine and Gunmar, as well as Vigilant Tolan, Brother Adalvald, Erandur, and Florentius Baenius. Dawnguard Recruits, as well as Durak, Agmaer, Celann, Beleval, and Vori came hurrying over on the ground floor to meet Cura and her friends in the center of the main area.

Cura seemed very excited to speak with Isran when he approached with the others in tow. "We did it, Isran! We got the Scroll! Now we can..."

"Cura." Isran spoke her name flatly in attempt to calm her excitedness.

She continued. "We went through Oblivion to get it, but..."

"Cura." Isran said her name again, with the hopes of bringing her down from the clouds.

"I had to fight a Dragon, and..."

"Cura." Isran laid a hand on her shoulder before moving aside to reveal the Moth Priest, Dexion Evicus, who now had a linen wrapping tied around his eyes.

"I trust your journey was successful?" Dexion asked, trying to make light of the matter.

Cura's expression fell immediately, and all previous joy began to vanish as the sight sunk in.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I can no longer be of use in this matter." Dexion sighed sadly. "It's my fault. In my haste to read the first Scroll, I neglected the careful preparation required. I thought I'd be able to allay the after effects, but I was wrong. Now I'm paying for it."

Cura pointed to the wrapping he wore. "That covering on your eyes. Are you-"

"Blind? Yes. I'm afraid so." Dexion sighed.

"Can anything be done to help you?" Carcette asked as she approached him to get a better look.

"No. It'll have to run its course, and there's always the chance I may never recover." Dexion lamented the poor timing of it all.

"Then we're finished." Vigilant Tolan threw up his hands. "It's all over."

The rest of the Dawnguard seemed to be frozen in place by the ill fortune that had befallen them.

"All of that effort..." Cura began to fret. "all that we've done... it can't have been for nothing!"

"Damn right!" Lucien exclaimed angrily. "After what I went through, you are not going to say it was all for nothing!"

Inigo snarled with frustration. "You cannot be serious right now! That is a pin on a chair that we will have sat on if this is the case!"

"No, there's another way. The question is, how much are you willing to risk to find Auriel's Bow?" Dexion turned in Cura's direction.

Cura was willing to compromise. "What do I need to do?"

"I can't guarantee you'd be free from harm. Becoming blind could be the least of your worries." Dexion warned.

"Don't worry about that. Just tell me!" Cura snapped as the threat of futility hung over her head.

"Scattered across Tamriel are secluded locations known only as Ancestor Glades. There's one in Skyrim, in the Pine Forest. Performing the Ritual of the Ancestor Moth within the glade should provide the answers you seek." Dexion explained.

Oh. Great. More rituals. "Explain this "ritual."" Cura crossed her arms impatiently.

"It involves carefully removing the bark from a Canticle Tree which will in turn attract Ancestor Moths to you. Once enough of the moths are following, they'll provide you with the second sight needed to decipher the scrolls." Dexion explained the steps with fondness.

"Carefully gather the bark? How?" Vigilant Adalvald interceded on Cura's behalf. "Would something go awry if she used a dagger"

"In keeping with tradition, you must use a specific tool in the Ancestor Glade, an implement known as a Draw Knife. Every Moth Priest is taught this ritual, but few ever get the chance to perform it... you should consider yourself fortunate if it works for you." Dexion sounded excited for her, but Cura was too irritated to respond in any positive manner at this point. Dexion reached into the satchel he wore on his lower back and took out what almost looked like an old shaving razor, but with a serrated edge.

"Do I need to read the scrolls in any particular order?" Cura asked.

"From what I saw in the vision, the Elder Scroll which foreshadows the defiance of the gods with the blood of mortals is the key to the prophecy."

"How's a moth related to the Elder Scrolls?" Carcette asked, admiring the absurdity of the idea that insects could make a divine scroll legible.

"Well, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, it's no mere coincidence that we're named "Moth Priests." The voice of the Ancestor Moth has always been an integral part of reading the Elder Scrolls." Dexion stated.

Lucien began to take notes in his journal. He himself never knew that about the Moth Priests, and saw this convesation as a great learning opportunity.

"Moths barely make a sound, let alone speak." Vigilant Tolan was unamused.

"Oh, the moths don't literally read the scrolls... but they maintain a connection to ancient magic that allows the Moth Priests to decipher them." Dexion looked back in Cura's direction. "If you listen closely when you find the glade, you should be able to hear their song... a soft, harmonious trilling. It's through this ancestral chorus that the moths tap into a form of primal augur and become a conduit of deciphering the scrolls."

"How does that help the Moth Priest?" Lucien looked up from his journal momentarily.

"By having the Ancestor Moth close to the Moth Priest, they can utilize the conduit and share the moth's augury. Only the most resilient of priests can do it this way... it takes years of practice to interpret the harmony." Dexion informed.

Cura hit herself on the hip in frustration. "Then how do I even stand a chance?" She had never even known of such a thing prior, and was now expecting to operate like a professional.

Serana shook her head at the inanity of the demands.

"You've come this far, and you've found several Elder Scrolls. Whether you believe it or not, the scrolls have a mind of their own. If they didn't want you to find them, they wouldn't allow it. Because of this, I strongly believe you were meant to hear the ancestral chorus. Only one way to find out." Dexion stated with absolute certainty.

"Is it normal for Moth Priests to go blind?" Carcette asked him in the hopes of gauging what Cura's chances were before anyone could proceed with anything.

"Sadly, yes. It's the inevitable fate we agree to pursue when reading the Elder Scrolls. It generally doesn't occur until a Moth Priest is in his latter years, but in my case I simply wasn't preparing myself properly." Dexion cursed his own hastiness.

"What went wrong?" Brother Adalvald asked.

"Deciphering one of the Elder Scrolls is nothing like reading a simple book. There's quite a bit of ritual and concentration required. It can take months or even years to complete a single scroll and even then, months to recover." Dexion pointed to his own eye covering for further emphasis.

"So, even if I manage to read it, the process of even readying for it could take months? And I could lose my vision?" Cura asked.

"No, my friend! You cannot go through with this! You need those lovely green eyes!" Inigo warned her. "You must see the Dragons to defeat the Dragons!"

Cura nodded. "Inigo is right. It's too risky."

Isran agreed, as well. "Do we have any volunteers?" He began to look among the crowd, and not a soul raised their hands. "Who here isn't a milk-drinker?"

"I'll do it." came a voice from the back of the crowd.

When everyone fell silent, Agmaer stepped forward, and walked between Isran and Cura. "I'll be the one to read the Scroll."

The people began to murmur within the Fort, and Isran seemed the most surprised of all. "You, Agmaer?"

"I'm willing to take a loss for the team." Agmaer volunteered himself. "If it means getting that much closer to stopping the vampire menace, I'll do whatever it takes. Cura needs her sight. I... I'm not afraid of losing something for our cause." His knees lightly shook together.

"But he's just a boy!" Sorine Jurard exclaimed with horror. "Isran, you can't be serious!"

Gunmar agreed. "Aye, he's got a whole life ahead of him. He deserves to see it."

"Enough!" Isran put his foot down. "The boy is old enough to make his own choices. Are you sure you want this, boy?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." Agmaer relished to be of use to the cause. He was willing to go the extra mile. He glared at Isran sternly, and with great determination. "I want to help the Dawnguard, in any way that I can!"

Cura felt a change in her view of Agmaer from this moment. From their first meeting, he seemed so shy, so meek, a little cowardly, but now here he was, willing to sacrifice what was arguably the most important of his senses so that they would be able to locate the weapon to defeat Harkon once and for all. There was no backing out now. They had to see this through to the end.

No matter what, Cura would respect Agmaer from this point onwards.

Isran smirked and released a low grunt. "Take a lesson, all you milk-drinkers." He looked to the rest of the Dawnguard. "This is what true Dawnguard Material looks like. Courageous. Bold. Willing to put yourself aside for the greater good." He placed a hand on Agmaer's shoulder with pride and gave it a light tap before dismissing himself and heading back towards his chambers, The group slowly began to disperse, as well.

All who remained were Cura, Inigo, Lucien, Serana, Carcette, and Agmaer.

Agmaer was shaking in place. "That... went better than I was expecting."

"Are you sure about this, buddy?" Lucien asked Agmaer. "I'd be beside myself if I lost my sight."

"I...I'll make peace with it." Agmaer lightly stuttered.

Carcette tried to offer comforting words. "If it's any consolation, it will feel like sitting inside of a dark room. When I shut my right eye, it feels exactly like that. It's a challenge, but you will adapt."

"You still see out of your right eye." Serana looked at Carcette as if she were a fool.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is, rather than reading it out of both eyes, read it out of one." Carcette stated. "Keep half of your vision, rather than lose it entirely."

Agmaer paused for a moment. "I... I'll consider it. That's good advice, actually. Thank you, Keeper Carcette." He turned around to walk towards the sleeping quarters.

Deep down, she wished she still were the Keeper, but just the same, she enjoyed the small luxuries that not being tied to that position afforded her.

"Well, I'm going to stay behind for the next excursion, Candle." Lucien told Cura. "No offense, but I'm still a bit shaken after what happened back at the Castle..."

"I understand." Cura nodded. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lucien."

"I will follow you to the abyss, my friend." Inigo told Cura. "I will come along, as well."

"All right." Cura smiled. Having Inigo around was always a plus. He could find a way to turn even the most hopeless situation into a positive. "Well, I'm going to take a bath and go to sleep. I'll see you all in the morning."

Carcette found a jar containing Deer blood that Erandur graciously laid out for her on one of the crates nearby, and quickly began to chug it as if it were a cheap Honey Ale.

Serana decided to go for a walk around the Fort, as thoughts of her mother raced through her head. She was filled with joy after having seen her again, as well as relief after having gotten centuries of stress off her chest at long last. She would continue to think of life going forward from here.

Cura threw her disgraced robes into a nearby washbasin and laid herself down in the large open pool. It felt nice, with the soap and the lukewarm water caressing her skin. After a few minutes, Carcette came into the room to join her. "Do you mind?" the older Breton asked. "I just want to talk. We need to do that."

Cura felt a tad uneasy, but ultimately relented, allowing for it. "All right."

Carcette stepped down the side of the large pool and sat against one of the ledges after slowly lowering herself into the water. "Oh? You're wearing your Amulet." She immediately observed that Cura bore her Amulet of Stendarr over her bosom.

"After an experience I had in a bathhouse where it got stolen, I've vowed to never let it out of my sight." Cura held it between her thumb and index finger before letting it sink back in the water, bound around her neck.

"That was in Riften, if I recall correctly?" Carcette asked.

Cura nodded. "Yes."

"I've warned you of the sorts who live there." Carcette shook her head. "But, I'm not here to argue. I'm here to set things right between us."

Cura stared at her silently for a few moments, prompting her to elaborate.

"I... thought I could hold out forever." Carcette tried to dance around her pride. "I thought that perhaps we could go in there and come out, and I could resist the urge to hunt. I was wrong, and you almost paid for it with your life. I can't even begin to express... how sorry I am."

Her shame was lain bare, much to Cura's surprise. "Keeper..." she muttered habitually.

"No, I don't deserve that title." Carcette shook her head in denial. "I am a Corrupted Vigilant, Cura. But... I don't want to tread the same road as Fenrik. That's why I'm not going with you to the Ancestor Glade."

Cura was surprised. "You're not coming along?" Her eyes widened and a hollow sadness crept into her heart. It bothered her, but she couldn't exactly determine why.

"No." Carcette shook her head. "After what I've done, I think it best we go our separate ways for a time. I don't want our memories to be tainted by this any longer." She slowly stood up and began to exit the pool.

"Carcette..." Cura reached out to her. "Wait..."

"Cura, do you remember that time, so very long ago, when we were walking to Dawnstar, and you were sidetracked by a Snowberry bush?" Carcette asked.

"Yes, and a Saber Cat attacked me." Cura told her. "And then you came to my rescue, pummeling the beast! It was really cool."

"Remember me like that. Not like... in the Soul Cairn." Carcette requested as she took a towel and wrapped herself in it.

"What are you going to do now?" Cura asked her, becoming mildly concerned.

"Until the time is right, I'm going to tend the Chapel with Brother Adalvald, and I'm going to help Florentius and Erandur in the Clinic otherwise." Carcette informed her. "Don't worry, I have things to do; I won't hurt anybody if there are fauna in the Canyon to feed off of."

Cura nodded and slowly emerged from the water herself. She also wrapped herself in a towel. "Carcette, I wanted to tell you that I understand. When I was a Werewolf, I had moments where I went crazy with bloodlust, as well. You didn't give up on me, so I won't give up on you, either."

Carcette smiled and caressed Cura's cheek in a gentle manner. "Thank you, sweetheart." It was almost as if a wave of relief washed over the older Breton as she continued onwards to the changing room.

Cura felt relieved herself at how smoothly that conversation went. She then turned her attention to her defiled robes in the basin and nearly choked with disgust when the smell hit her. She took a few bars of soap and a bucket of water to them, and braced herself for another kind of battle as she lifted them and regarded the despicably offensive stains of rotted Dragon blood, patches of her own blood, Soul Cairn mud, Gargoyle Dust, and every other violation upon the fabric.

Holding her breath, Cura began to get to work.