Chapter 24: Kintsugi
AN: Welcome back. I just want to say the character of Vlad Dracona belongs to my friend King Bendix. And also, I think it's time we had a little discussion for those who care. Obviously, when I planned this story, I had planned for an 85 chapter epic, enough to rival a wheel of time book. But that clearly didn't happen as we're nearly 25 chapters in and in another 10 we may be done. I don't know what it is, but I've lost the ability to lengthen a story. I know useless padding is bad, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean more plot points and giving the story more room to breathe. Ever since the medication changes, I just can't bring myself to write more than slightly above the bare minimum. And because of this, this story may be the last thing I ever write. If you all have any advice, it would be greatly appreciated.
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Stesha sat amongst the court members the next morning as they sipped blood from their wineglasses. Human meat, potions, and red wine littering the tables with silver platters. Bloodred curtains decorated the windows, being drawn over them. The one seated next to Stesha was Orthjolf Einersen, Stalf's uncle.
The latter nudged him in the elbow. Stesha glanced up into the bearded baboon's eyes. "Hey, saw Vlad cozying up to you and Serana. Don't trust him. He says he serves our lord, but he really has his own interests at heart."
Stesha shook his head with narrowed eyes. "How would you even know? Hasn't he been here for thousands of years?"
"I just know, you can always tell from the look of 'em." Orthjolf bit into a piece of human meat.
With the lack of a kingdom to govern, I wonder what kind of court politics they do discuss here?
Harkon clinked his glass with his fork, rallying attention from everyone in the room. Next to him were Valerica, Serana, and Vlad, all dressed similarly in their royal vampire armor. Serana winked at him which caused Stesha to blush profusely.
Orthjolf swung an arm around Stesha's shoulder and brought him close. Stesha could feel the brute's beard spike against his skin as the brute whispered in his ear, "let me tell you something sonny, near every man in this court has been trying to get in her pants, and some have even succeeded. But they've always been big strong men, capable of pleasuring a woman. Not little virgins like you who have never even felt a woman's touch."
"Good thing for me," answered Stesha, "I've never aspired to be like those men." Then he shook the Atmoran off him. "Also, I'm not trying to 'get in her pants', you degenerate."
"So, the plague rages on in Skyrim and the quarantine and lockdown continues, with all the cities closed down. This may be the perfect moment to embark on an expedition to see this holy land for ourselves?" Harkon postulated.
"Wasn't Serana just there? Does she have nothing to report?" Eris spoke up, swirling a glass of wine in her hand.
"This is from Serana's report, Eris." Harkon took on an exasperated expression. "Roscrea remains lowly populated, save for some giants and Imperial miners who can brave the cold. All the provinces in Tamriel have also locked their borders to prevent the plague from reaching them save High Rock, which accepted some refugees before also locking their border."
"High Rock, according to Movarth, has broken out into petty political squabbling among the kingdoms and Cyrodiil remains restless with Emperor Titus Mede II on his deathbed due to old age. Many pray for the return of Charlamagne to save Skyrim from the plague and re-lead the Empire," Vlad concluded.
After the court session, Stesha made his way to the hallway and up the stairs towards the library. It was then he bumped into Vlad. It was dark with wood frames embedded into the wall. Stone statutes of Atmoran historical figures in alcoves.
"Oh, apologies." Vlad brushed Stesha's shoulders for him.
"It's no problem." Stesha nodded.
"Say, I didn't see you speaking to Orthjolf earlier? Don't trust him. He says he serves our lord, but he really has his own interests at heart," warned Vlad with a finger pointed in the air.
Stesha bit back a grin, remembering what Orthjolf also said earlier. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
With that, he strolled into the ancient athenaeum. Managed by Velquil Velaseal, a long-haired blond. As he walked in, the gaunt man smiled and nodded. With a wave back, Stesha looked around. The room was large, filled with dusty volumes and tables and tall bookshelves that went all the way around. There was also a second story, made completely of wood.
I need to find Seracles' ally, but where to start…
He was going to take a gamble here. "Velquil, have you noticed anything suspicious lately? Something not right with the spire in the last year?"
Velquil scratched his white eyebrow. "You know, not really. But someone has been frequenting a secret passage near the hallway outside of here. Maybe check there. Has Lord Harkon sent you on a mission?"
"Serana has, I'd appreciate if you kept it close to the chest. The less people know, the better." Stesha ran a hand through his locks.
"Aye aye, captain." Velquil winked as Stesha left the library.
Stesha inspected the dusty old hall up and down. There was a ledge sticking out and an old candlestick jutting out of the wall. "Hmm." Stesha turned the candle sideways.
A passage opened up and he stepped inside, showing a set of wooden stairs in a cramped, narrow, hallway. The wooden slot closed behind him as he ascended the staircase. The room had a large oil-lit lamp and a bathtub in the corner all over the ligneous floorboards. A large, frog man was bathing in the tub.
"Uuh, who are you?" Stesha asked.
The frog swam around, and his yellow eyeballs widened. "I am Gerald, I guard master's book."
"And who is your master?"
"Gerald does not know his name, but Gerald can give you book if you agree to be Gerald's friend."
"Sure, Gerald, I'll be your friend." Stesha walked over and shook his webbed flipper.
Gerald hopped out of the tub and flopped over to a locker, opening it, and handing Stesha a leather-bound booklet.
"Thank you, my friend." Stesha flipped through the pages and read the entries.
Today, I was wandering the holy land, Skyrim, where it is said all Nordic life was birthed by Kyne as she blew her spirits over the Throat of the World. None of the others knew I had come down here, I simply was exploring it of my own volition. I ran into a man who called himself 'Seracles'. Hardly a man if I'm honest. I told him I was from Atmora and about the secret red water spring there. He told me of his plans, to purify all life in Skyrim and agreed to meet with me at the Red-Water Den in Atmora with his cohorts.
Stesha pressed the page hard and churned his thoughts, judging by the timeline, this was a year ago, when Seracles warned Balgruuf of our coming. He must've met with the traitor shortly afterward and procured the skooma to start spreading the plague with his Davouts.
Lucky for him, but what would his alternative have been if the traitor didn't agree? Appealing to Peryite?
"I need to go to the Red-Water Den next," he said to himself, turning to Gerald the frog man. "You saw nothing."
Gerald nodded happily.
Stesha braved the cold as snowy winds assaulted him as the large half arches the size of mountains shone in the distance of Atmora. His wings grew out and he flew over the land, resolutely squared on his destination. Atmora was small and it wasn't long until he reached the Cranberry Bog. Thick, twisted, mutated plants of cherry red complexion covered the distance with the density of a forest. A lone hut lay near a glade with some firewood outside.
"This must be the settlement of Nok," Stesha ascribed. "Serana already killed all the Davouts outside of Skyrim, so I should face no resistance."
Stesha entered the cottage. There were pillows on top of a couch and a burned-out fireplace in the back. A kitchen with stale crackers and cold coffee on the side. Stesha opened the hatch beneath some pillows in the center and hopped in. Small green orbs bounced around him in joy as he traversed passed the dead bodies of Davouts, all killed savagely by Serana. Some immolated, some electrocuted, and others impaled with ice spikes. No one was inside the main lounge which had cell shaped resting areas with rolled up rugs serving as chairs and a bar to the side. Stesha took a left behind the bar and went into the backroom. He traveled a while before arriving at the spring.
The cave had stalactites made of ice hanging off the ceiling and a spring of raspberry red bubbling out of the center. Stesha cupped a hand through the source of the Red-Water Skooma and poured it out.
Who created this? Was it always here? Stesha realized something then. It needs to be destroyed. But first, I need to find the second journal.
Stesha went back to the bar and snooped underneath it until he found an old book.
The Red-Water Spring. None know who created it. I personally think it was made by Lengeir Herm, a profaned priest of Arkay in the Merethic Era, but I could be wrong. Seracles – an interesting individual. He's teamed up with a Daedric Prince and some decrepit old thing to bring Skyrim to its knees. And he wants me to govern his group – the Davouts, here in Atmora, to supply them with the water from the spring so they can ship it as Skooma to Dawnstar and infect the populace of Skyrim.
Plans have faltered. I write this paragraph many months later, as my research into Elder Wood continues. Serana has discovered our plans. The only way for me to restart the skooma supply line is to kill her and her family, including that brat of hers, Stesha. I will need to take over Volkihar Court as well, gonna be difficult with those two twats vying for the throne. My next entry will be in the cranberry bog forest, just outside. In case I forget where I left it.
"Hey, I couldn't find you. I guessed maybe you were here," Serana's warm voice slid into his heart.
"It's good to see you." Stesha smiled brightly.
Serana wrapped him in a tight hug and Stesha's heart soared. Her grip was like iron, she was so strong.
"You should read these." Stesha handed her the journals of the traitor.
Serana perused them carefully. "Hmm, I personally think the spring was a leftover creation from the gods. They say Auriel turned water into wine. It's possible this is his wine, left aged turned into something else. We have to stop this person; I won't let my family be killed."
She conjured sparks into her hands and razed the rocks on the cave ceiling, causing them to fall and fill the hole that was Red-Water Spring. Dust dusting off in its wake. Afterwards they stepped out into the cranberry bog forest, appreciating the giant bushes circumventing the expanse. Its redness contrasting beautifully against Atmora's white snow. They traveled for a bit into the forest until they found a chest buried underneath red leaves. Inside the chest was another book.
At the center of Atmora lies Elder Wood the Forgotten Vale. A piece of the Old Atmora, before it was frozen over. At the heart of that vale lies a sanctuary that houses Auriel's Bow. A weapon I can use to kill Harkon and exert my authority over the court.
Ink slid down the page. This entry was written very recently.
"We need to get there, now." Serana took Stesha's hand and stormed off.
They both turned into bats and flew off. A short while later they landed near some icy canyons. What looked like broken nature constructed highways layering over each other like overpasses or layering on a cake. A light snow fall paraded them. Serana spotted an entrance and they climbed into it, tumbling down a ramp inside.
It was lowly lit, exotic plants roosting up here or there. A dark cave. Stesha and Serana progressed through it. They shot up and down long alleyways until they came out onto a bridge.
"Something unsteady about this bridge." Serana slid Stesha's hand into her own and his heartbeat skipped.
It broke through and they fell into a waterfall that dropped down for leagues. They fell into a river which dragged them through a dark, damp stream, stalagmites and stalactites hanging off the cave ceiling. Some trolls were on the far side and more magenta plants sprouted from the nooks in the ground.
There was a shrine of some sort with an eight-pointed curved star made of bronze. The mount it was projecting from was marble white. A figure was standing near it as well. Snow white with platinum blond hair and clear eyes.
"Aah, there are more of you," said the Snow Elf.
Serana and Stesha's jaws dropped.
"Allow me to explain. I am Gelebor Virgil. When Ysgramor was committing genocide on our people, my brother, Vyrthur and I escaped with a group of prelates and Auriel's Bow and set sail north. We landed here in Atmora. We found this vale and constructed a shrine to Auriel and housed the bow so that one who was worthy would reclaim it and save us from the Nords. The reason our escape was so necessary was because with a weapon like Auriel's Bow, the Nords could wipe us all out."
"Your whole people were wiped out or devolved into the Falmer." Stesha's gaze saddened.
"So, I've heard. So is the way of the world. The oppressors will always oppress the oppressed. They took the holy land from us, the old kingdom, and everyone I brought with me is now long dead. I am the only one left. All I have left to give is the bow. One has already come to retrieve it, but he didn't seem of the good sort. You two should hurry if you wish to get the bow before him."
"What do we do?" Serana clenched her fist slightly.
"Progress through the vale with this pitcher." Gelebor gestured to a decanter inside the shrine. "Unlock the three shrines through their various trials and fill the pitcher until it's full. The different waters will create a concoction that will unlock the door to the inner sanctum and give you access to Auriel's Bow."
"Thank you," said Stesha, bowing.
Gelebor nodded saintly and Serana and Stesha stepped into the shrine. Soon as they grabbed the pitcher, a portal opened inside one of the shrine walls. They stepped through and out into a lush, green vale with rolling hills and tall, evergreen trees. A marble church resided in the center of it. Tall fields of green, uncut grass that stretched on like a sea. Even the clouds parted here to let the sun shine through.
They approached the first shrine and saw that the door was locked. A broomstick laying in front of it.
"I've seen this in my childhood stories." Stesha took hold of the broomstick. It started to levitate, and he got on as it soared into the sky.
"Stesha! What's going on, are you alright!?" Serana shouted with her hands cupped around her mouth.
"I'm fine," Stesha yelled back. "I think this is the first trial."
A little ball buzzed into the air and around Stesha's head. Some sort of fairy. It then shot away. I'm supposed to catch it. Stesha forwarded and zoomed around, chasing the fairy. It was fast, zipping and weaving and leaving Stesha behind. Stesha heard a zip and immediately turned his broom around and smack, he hit the fairy. Before she could fall to the ground, Stesha grabbed her. The door unlocked and Stesha set down the fairy and the broomstick. Serana entered the chamber and filled one-third of the pitcher's water.
"Good, now let's get to the next one." Serana ushered them along the path.
They passed white marble monuments and statues. The sun shone fiercely over this part of Atmora so they both raised their hoods. Some statutes of snow eleven figures holding fiery torches lit the way ahead as well.
"I'm glad you're here with me, Serana." Stesha gulped and looked up at her as they traversed the forgotten vale.
Serana turned to look at him too, "I feel the same way, Stesha. Your presence has really changed my outlook."
"Before I met you, I was so alone," they both said together.
They came upon the second shrine, which was parallel to the inner sanctum but far across. This one was raised on a hill. A fountain preceded it with a spout and water filling a pool connected under the shrine.
"I was broken, but you made me whole again." Stesha's eyes bled tears.
"In Akavir, there's an art form where a bowl is broken and made whole again with gold. The seams from the break are still visible but they make the whole bowl more beautiful in the end." Serana smiled brightly at him.
"You're the gold that made me whole then, Serana," Stesha said.
"I know."
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AN: A little sooner then last chapter, writing is becoming a little easier again with the momentum I'm on. My biggest fear is tying the finale together good when it comes down the line. A review or any show of support would be immensely helpful for my spirit. Don't underestimate what readers mean to us.