There was a click, and then a metal 'shunk' noise. The thrall screamed, high and agonized, as a metal spike punched through the palm of his hand before withdrawing.
I cringed in the shadows, biting back a whimper of sympathy.
Dark magic flared, spilling purple light along one of the grooves before petering out at an intersection.
The thrall dropped to his knees, sucking in shuddering breaths as he clutched his ruined hand and moaned. "M-Master please… help me."
"Thralls are such fools; " Lokil sneered at him, "so eager to serve. However, it appears that you haven't helped quite enough." He drew his still-bloodied blade and closed the distance with a few long strides. "It would seem that more of your blood is required for this little puzzle. Lean over the pedestal, worm. What we need is an artery."
The weeping, wounded man turned toward the vampire, face still twisted in agony. "Yes, master." He rose to his feet and leaned forward so his throat hung over the bloodstained button.
The twang of my bowstring was muffled beneath the roaring of blood in my ears. The wet sound of my arrow punching through Lokil's skull, however, was far more audible.
The thrall, still entrapped by the spell that held his mind in its sway, screamed, "Master! Master, no! Not you! NOT YOU!"
"What—" The subordinate vampire spluttered, and spun to face the path, eyes searching for me.
Dawnbreaker flashed brilliant gold, even in the dimness of the cave. The light from the sunstone made the female vampire snarl in pain and flinch back. The blade sliced through her neck with ease, white-hot flames erupting from her flesh. She was a pile of blue-white ashes within seconds. She didn't even have time to scream.
The still-enthralled man threw himself at me, rage flooding his expression. All combat knowledge vanished, and all he could do was flail in brokenhearted fury with his one good hand.
I spun on him and drove the pommel into his temple, dropping him like a stone.
"Gods... you poor man," I whispered. "What kinds of memories are you going haunt you when the Seduction spell wears off?"
Satisfied that there were no immediate threats, I took a few minutes to tie him with rope from my pack. Then I cast the one spell I knew: Healing Hands. Knitting flesh and bone back together was a slow, delicate and difficult task. With some sweat and careful concentration, I was able to put his hand back together again. Bones realigned. Tendons and ligaments reattached. Muscle knitted. The skin came together and became whole.
I did the best I could, but no amount of healing would ever be perfect. His damaged hand would always be weaker than the other, and prone to failing him at random times. He would have to learn to use his left hand as much as his right or switch to two-handed weapons to continue his life as a warrior.
I could only pray that he could make a good life for himself.
The nearest towns were Morthal and Dawnstar. The Guardhouses of both were sure to have a jail cell that I could put him in for a day, but a trip to Morthal was the best bet. Dawnstar would be dug in for the storm by now and I had no desire to drag this man through that mess. It would be a hard slog through below-freezing weather, and the thrall would fight his bindings, and me, every step of the way. Time was of the essence to get him secured.
Satisfied that the enthralled man couldn't waylay me, I checked Lokil's body. That black blade had me worried.
I picked up the vampire's weapon and looked it over. The thing was similar in shape to a Redguard's scimitar, but was viciously serrated. Etchings of bright red glowed under their own power against the black steel.
A daedric blade. I swallowed.
Ebony was a black metal and was notorious for how difficult it was to work with. It required extensive knowledge to smelt into ingots, much less forge into weapons. A single ebony blade could cost more than a thousand Septims. Some warhammers came closer to two thousand.
To turn it into a Daedric weapon, you had to summon a lower-level Daedra and then slay it. After cutting out its heart, you had to squeeze the organ until blood cooled the forge-heated metal and imbued it with supernatural strength.
These damned bloodsuckers were insanely well-funded, with a powerful mage and a blacksmith of unsurpassed skill. Even their underlings wielded these blades.
I needed to work out the puzzle, grab the artifact, and get out of there. The Dawnguard was up against something big.
I turned to eye the dark purple energy that traced along one of the grooves.
The purple crystals in the braziers were the same hue as the purple light. They would be safer than the central pedestal since the thrall had fiddled with one without coming to harm.
I circled until I found a brazier in the groove that intersected the end of the line of light, and gave it a slight push. It rolled easily at my touch, and as soon as it reached the spot where the light ended, there was a click. The brazier sank ever so slightly into a slot, and then the purple light blazed up through the crystals. As though boosted, more grooves filled with purple light.
"Ah ha," I murmured.
It was a simple enough puzzle, and just the right sort of cruel and twisted idea for a vampire's mentality. Cripple or kill a 'disposable' enthralled human, move a few magic-boosting braziers around, and…
"Ta-dah," I murmured, shoving the last brazier into place.
There was a final click. Purple light blazed, and then the entire floor of the island was in motion.
I swore and scrambled backward, barely keeping ahead of the sinking stones. Circular rows sank until I found myself standing on the top row of an amphitheater-like structure. But instead of a stage, a hexagonal column awaited in the center. It was the same black stone as the rest of the island, topped by the nasty contraption that had started this whole thing. The purple light diminished until it was the barest glimmer, then winked out.
I stood still, breathing rapidly from the alarm and the scramble backward. Silence descended. Nothing else moved.
Once my breath returned to its normal pace, I eased down the stair-like stones, Dawnbreaker in hand.
Was this the artifact? It didn't seem practical, much less possible. The pillar itself didn't glow with any signs of enchantment, so it couldn't confer any magical benefit on its own. It would be next to worthless in emergencies since someone would have to crawl through the crypt every time. The stone monolith also seemed to be a single, hexagonal pillar of stone, at first glance. That would make it insanely heavy.
What am I missing? I wondered.
I had yet to touch it; caution was always prudent; even more so after the thrall's unlucky discovery.
It took a much closer look to reveal two parallel seams in the otherwise seamless stone. This wasn't a pillar; it was a stone coffin!
I bit back an oath. There was no artifact here, there was a person— no… a vampire interred here!
Gods. How many centuries have they been sealed in cold stone? I thought in horror. If they are not dead for real, they must be absolutely insane for want of blood and the weight of loneliness. I gripped Dawnbreaker with grim purpose. Stendarr and Meridia, let me end their suffering painlessly.
Once I was sure it was safe to touch, I did so. At the very least, there should have been a creak, or a squeak, or… something... due to age and the countless years in a moisture-ridden cave. Instead, the whole front of the coffin slid easily and silently beneath my hand, disappearing into the floor of the amphitheater. The dim light spilled into the interior of the stone coffin, revealing the figure inside.