The trip to Castle Volkihar was long and tedious. Large groups can only travel as fast as the carriages that carry their supplies. They're also about as subtle as throwing a pile of cow dung in someone's face.

We avoided entering towns and cities to avoid overwhelming the inns. A few members of the group were more than happy to be sent in with the occasional food order from the marketplaces. We relied on our supplies as little as possible and hunted fresh game wherever we could. We were not attacked on the roads, though we always had shifts of guard duty all night to be safe.

We had to set up camp on the shore near the docks, and the nearby Thalmor fort sent scowling Justiciars patrolling every hour on the hour. I think our brazen appearance ticked them off, but our continued disinterest in them stayed their hands.

We had to ferry members across the expanse of water between the mainland and the island. We ended up leaving everything behind but the armor and weapons we carried.

Finally, we all stood before the silent, ice-encrusted castle, looking along that long bridge, bracketed by gargoyles.

"We're done with this when none of them are left standing," Isran told the group.

I pointed at the statues, "The gargoyles are not carved stone! They will come alive when they sense us as a threat. Do NOT ignore them or let them hit you; they can suck the life out of your body with a touch. Be ready for an ambush from them!"

Satisfied by the grim nods and the way the Dawnguard readjusted their grips on their drawn weapons, I nodded to Isran.

"Let's go." My fellow Redguard raised his war hammer with a shout, "For the Dawnguard! For Skyrim!"

I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose as the other Dawnguard members raised a roar of agreement and charged past me. Isran and I really needed to talk about not making a huge racket when charging into battle. If I hadn't known better, this would have felt like Morthal all over again. At least the Dawnguard weren't a pack of untrained civilians.

We crossed the bridge as a group. The four gargoyles, who came screaming to life and shedding thin stone skins, were immediately struck down by a hail of arrows and sword strikes. The beasts, which were used to ambush tactics, were not ready to be pelted with attacks the instant they burst from their positions. Complete annihilation happened within minutes.

A death hound and several vampires rushed out of the castle to join the battle.

I fired my first Sunhallowed arrow into the skull of the charging death hound. The arrow struck home, and with a low whoomph noise and a burst of blazing yellow light, the arrow unleashed its magic.

The dog's head just… disappeared. Unidentifiable chunks of death hound pelted my armor, sizzling like meat in a skillet. The beast's body tumbled end over end down the slope of the bridge past me.

Okay, mental note, hit targets a wee bit further away, I decided, hastily brushing away at something hot that stung my cheek. I shoved down my churning stomach, and aimed at a vampire further away.

That vampire made a strangled noise and collapsed when the arrow struck her chest. I don't want to describe what it did to her entire torso.

Stendarr have mercy! I very suddenly had a great deal of respect for the Divine weapon… and not a little fear. I can only feel a subtle current of energy, and yet… this?!

I was soon forced to switch to Dawnbreaker, which was at least a little more manageable when it came to destruction.

I caught flashes of the armored trolls fighting in between slaying my own opponents. Their dislike of vampires made them even more horrible and vicious than when they attacked humans for food. Protected by leather, and steel spikes and equipped with wrist-mounted blades, they fought on the edge of the melee. One troll brought down a massive fist on a vampire's head. I was grateful I couldn't hear the squelching crunch of that particular death. Another time, I spotted one grab a vampire's head in both of its large hands and yank upwards. By Celann's expression, he would never be able to pull weeds out by the roots while gardening again. I turned away real quick when a troll yanked the leg off a dead vampire and proceeded to... peel the flesh off of it to use the femur as a bludgeoning tool. Gunmar's trolls were going to give me nightmares for years, but they proved their value in battle well enough.

The melee was thinning even as I reduced another vampire to ashes before they could attack Agmaer. Weapons darted around me, war cries echoed off the stone edifice, and soon we stood among the scattered bodies of the second wave of enemies. Some of us looked bruised, and all of us were spattered with vampire blood, but every member was still alive.

Once we were satisfied that none of the bodies were going to get up again, we entered the castle proper. Florentius remained behind to guard the entrance while the rest of us headed in. This was where the battle ramped up. The lesser court members were all dead and now we faced the higher ranking, and thus more formidable, vampires. The last time I had been here, it had been set up for a banquet of sorts. Our less-than-stealthy arrival had given vampires time to upend tables to shield themselves behind. The thralls were nowhere in sight.

Instead, four vampires engaged with weapons and drain spells. Three spellcasters were on the upper balconies, spraying the fight with powerful Destruction spells. Our one saving grace was that the vampires were not trained to work together. They attacked individually with little to no cooperation between them. I fired the Sunhallowed arrows into the balconies, sending explosive bursts of light above where we fought. It didn't take long to bring a halt to the spells that rained down upon the group.

A troll barreled past me to intercept one of the death hounds, and a moment after turning away, saw a black-and-red necrotizing body go flying straight up to smash into the vaulted ceiling high above. It crashed back down on a vampire hiding behind the table. I couldn't be sure, but the glimpse I caught of it looked wrong. I could have sworn that it didn't have a head anymore. Or legs.

I caught flashes of Serana here or there, firing spears of ice. I spotted Caelann swinging his war axe with a shout. Isran's bellow of "Not even the gods will show you mercy!" preceded a scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor. I put my holy blade to use wherever I could assist my companions. I didn't bother trying to count the piles of ashes my blade left behind.

Another death hound uttered a yelp and skidded along the ground past me, its head bent at an unnatural angle. Durak's roar of "Stupid dog!" told me all I needed to know about who had handled it.

Finally, silence descended. Slowly everyone stood and took stock.

Serana gave the room a cursory look and then said, "It's not over yet. My father isn't here."

"Are you sure?" Isran demanded, "Check all the side hallways."

I shook my head, "She's right. Harkon wasn't even here when we entered. He's somewhere else in the castle."

"Hmm. Well all right then." Isran raised his voice and barked, "Everyone! Pair up! Go nowhere alone. I said it before and I'll say it again: we're done with this when none of them are left standing. Find Harkon, and take him out by any means necessary. Also, find where the thralls are kept. If they are contained, then good. Keep them that way until the spell wears off. If not, get them secured. Then start cleaning up and bringing supplies to tend to the wounded."

I felt a tingle in the back of my mind. Remember what you have sworn, and to whom.

"Hey, uh, Isran?" I asked softly, fighting a grim smirk as I remembered the silent promise I had made so long ago. "Whatever else happens, leave Harkon's body disposal to me, all right?"

The Redguard simply raised an eyebrow and then nodded.

Everyone split up, moving off to various other areas of the castle. Serana gestured for me to follow her, her expression grim. She led me through a hallway and up a few sets of stairs, coming to a stop where our way was barred by a portcullis.

"This is it," she murmured to me, as she pulled a hidden chain and a final flight of stairs was revealed before a double door. "If my father is holed up anywhere, it's the cathedral."

"Cathedral?" I repeated, not believing for a minute that this would be a place of quiet and holy contemplation.

Serana confirmed my thoughts immediately, "Trust me, it won't be like any place of worship you've ever seen."

We pushed open the double doors and walked through into a room straight out of the dreams of a serial killer or mass murderer. There wasn't a single corner of this room that didn't have piles of bones heaped at least knee-high in them. Wherever there weren't bones, there was dust and ruin and crumbled stone.

Straight ahead, the snarling, horned, bestial face of Molag Bal opened to pour a fountain of red blood into the basin below. Dark magic radiated from it and made my skin itch. I knew it was used to keep the macabre tribute to the Daedric Prince fresh and flowing.

Dust motes floated heavily in the air and several gargoyles lay dormant in various positions in the room.

And there, in his bat-like form, stood Lord Harkon.

The vampire lord stood with his head slightly bowed, a sneer of contempt on his face, "Serana, my darling. I see you still favor keeping a pet."

I gave Harkon the single-finger Salute Of Defiance. By his half-stifled bark of laughter, he knew what it meant.

"You know why we're here," Serana's voice was low and furious.

"Of course I do." Harkon shook his gray-skinned head at her, "You disappoint me, my dear. You've taken everything I provided for you and thrown it all away for this... pathetic being."

Serana spluttered only briefly before spitting out, "Provided for me? Are you insane? You've destroyed our family. You've killed other vampires. All over some prophecy that was invented by a snow elf millennia ago! No more. I'm done with you! You will not touch her!"

Harkon blinked briefly, then favored her with the lazy smirk that he was so good at wearing. "So, I see this dragon has fangs. Your voice drips with the venom of your mother's influence. How alike you've become."

My girlfriend shook her head, "No... Because unlike her, I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore."

Harkon snorted softly and turned to me, "And you… It appears I have you to thank for turning my daughter against me. I knew it was only a matter of time before she'd return with hatred in her heart."

"Hatred born of your neglect and abuse, Harkon. Did you really think she would never get sick of it?"

He shrugged my accusations off lazily, "A small price to pay for the betterment of our kind."

I scoffed, "It's not betterment. You would incite a genocide against your kind that the world has never seen."

"Ah, I see you've been speaking to Valerica too... and she's convinced you that eternal night will plunge us into war with daytime dwellers." He had the arrogance to laugh openly. "If only it were so. With the world in shadow, we would never tire, never weaken... more than a match for their pitiful armies."

"You, and vampires like you, are the reason your kind are so hated."

"Yes, yes. Always the noble vampire hunter." He waved a clawed hand lazily, "And what happens when you've slain me? Is Valerica next? Is Serana?"

I could see where this was going and decided to cut it off at the pass, "I would never harm Serana. She's too important to me." Valerica is… well… we'll see. I added silently.

Serana gave me a look that warmed me despite the freezing temperatures in this ghastly cathedral.

Seeing the look, Harkon sneered, "Then my daughter is truly lost. She died the moment she accepted a mortal into her life. Know this, human: the vampire is eternal, and with immortality comes the revelation that these bonds never endure... It's fleeting: momentary at best. I also find it interesting that you can set aside your own morals when it suits you. You hate vampires so, and yet claim affection, even love, for one of us."

"You don't even know what love is," I snapped. "My morals are just fine. I judge vampires by their deeds, not their infection. Besides, this is about more than killing vampires."

"Ah, of course. The prophecy that you claim is made up. Yet there it was, inscribed in the Scrolls, so your words fall flat." He gave his head a tiny shake, as though to dislodge an insect instead of a fact. "I'm growing weary of speaking to you and my traitorous daughter. I'll give you a single chance to turn over the bow to me. There will not be a second."

"Pfft. Pucker up and plant a big, fat juicy kiss on the hind end of a daedroth."

Harkon didn't seem surprised, "Very well then, you leave me no choice! Serana will sacrifice her blood for the sake of the prophecy, and I will feast upon yours in Molag Bal's honor!"

He took a step toward me and paused warily as Dawnbreaker blazed life in the dim light of the cathedral.

"Hmm. But first, perhaps a little fun…" Harkon raised a hand, clutching an orb of aqua-colored light.

"Cursed Darvak," I hissed. Vampire Seduction. Move move movemovemove!

Harkon threw the ball of light at me as I dove desperately to the side.

"No! Lasirah!" Serana's cry of horror seemed to fill my world as aqua light blazed in my peripheral vision.

I was almost able to dodge it. Almost…

The blue light burst against my left ankle, prickling over my skin with a touch that was somewhere between pleasure and pain.