Darkness hung above in the boundless void, and lightning showered the air, crackling, splintering, and roaring. A deep violet hue blanketed the landscape, enshrouding the whirling clouds. The landscape was completely alien to Cura, lacking in all things but gloominess.
Scattered throughout the sullen fields were black skeletal trees and bushes. Broken building structures were littered about haphazardly, and dead foliage spread patterns along the glowing crevices in the rock, and stray souls flew about in orbs of light.
The air itself was heavy with unleashed depression, pulled from the spirits of unwilling inhabitants of the black realm.
The Soul Cairn. It was as dreadful as it sounded.
Serana walked ahead and paused to take in the valley of the shadow of death. "I'd heard stories about the Soul Cairn, but never thought I'd see it myself. So far it's... about what I imagined." She turned around to Cura and Carcette as she pointed to a large palisade far off in the distance. "Let's go. My mother must be waiting on the other side of that thing."
"Do you know anything about this place?" Cura asked.
"Just what my mother told me. I've also studied a little bit on my own, but there's not much. When something is trapped in a soul gem, and then the energy is used for powering an enchantment, the remnants are sent here." Serana stated. "The Ideal Masters believe that by freeing mortals from life and dooming them to eternal undeath, they are being saved from meaningless hardship and gifted with peace. The Cairn was described as an otherworldly refuge dedicated to peace, love, eternal rest, and harmony." Serana recalled ancient texts. "Mortal souls sent to the Soul Cairn eventually lose all memory of their former lives, with only newcomers to the realm retaining wisps of their former memories."
"That's not peaceful at all!" Cura spouted with disgust. "They come in, are trapped, and then lose their minds? That's dreadful!" She held a hand to her breast and looked up into the void, hoping that she could find the piece of her soul in time.
"I don't like this place." Carcette shivered as the cold bite of the aether stung her. "Not one bit. I've felt more pleasant fighting against Hagravens... or during my time at Castle Volkihar."
"If Carcette is uncomfortable, then you know it's bad." Cura stated.
Serana scoffed. "You'd think a vampire would be right at home in this place. You'd be wrong. Let's just find my mother and get out of here, quickly."
"No, we get that piece of my soul back first!" Cura insisted with fervour. "Otherwise, I won't be much help."
Serana agreed. "Of course. Well, according to what I've read in the past, souls are stored in coffins within the storehouses to the west." She extended her index finger and pointed towards large, boxlike structures far off in the blackened desert wasteland, beyond some black stone sepulchers and what looked like wells glowing with fuscia-coloured energy.
A wispy-looking man walked by Cura, evidently one of the lost souls in the dimension. His demeanour was sunken and dreary as he lumbered on by. She turned to face him. "Excuse me? Are you..."
The ghost spoke with an ironic sense of bewilderment and despair. "All I said to Potema was I thought she looked a little portly in that gown. How was I supposed to know?" He turned around after throwing up his arms and continued to trail the endless void, hopeless.
"I would argue that these 'Ideal Masters' are far worse than most Daedra." Carcette shuddered when she saw how despaired that man seemed. If the Potema he was talking about was the Potema she was thinking of, then poor, foolish fellow. "Thankfully their impact on our world is far lesser."
"Can any soul gem do? Will we find animals here?" Cura asked.
"Well, I think it's specifically the black ones. I don't know if the Soul Cairn takes just any leftovers." Serana pondered
"Does anything at all live here?" Carcette moved around what appeared to be shriveled cocoons jutting out of the ground near a small cliff
"Look at this place. Do you think anything would want to live here? The only things that can survive here are the Ideal Masters, the undead and the souls themselves. Well, if you want to call that "living."" Serana stated.
"Do... you think we'll meet the Ideal Masters?" Cura asked, hoping not.
"I don't think anyone's ever met the Ideal Masters. I'm not even sure anyone knows what they look like. They could be underground, flying above us... They might be the ground. I have no idea." Serana shrugged.
"Or even the giant crystals floating in the air?" Cura pointed to what looked like large Black Soul Gems floating above buildings further to the southwest.
"Maybe..." Serana agreed to the possibility.
"Why are they collecting these souls?" Carcette asked.
"Lots of theories. Some say they feed on them like we feed on blood. Others think they use them as payment to an even higher power... almost like a currency. A very strange currency. Whatever they're doing with them, they've been harvesting for millennia. No telling how many souls are trapped here." Serana explained in a way that left no room for comfort.
"Why would a necromancer want to deal with them?" Cura asked. "It seems so wasteful."
"Look around you. There are some extremely powerful undead here." Serana pointed to black skeletal warriors off in the distance who hadn't yet noticed them, and lowered herself behind some bushes accordingly. "Even a necromancer as seasoned as my mother would be willing to spend years trying to gain access to them."
"Summon them you mean?" Cura asked as she too tried to hide. She felt weakened and her heart felt loose. She needed that piece of her spirit back, and quickly.
"Exactly. It's a lost art. Most necromancers just raise up whatever bodies are nearby. A simple trick, really. Child's play. But bringing something from the Soul Cairn gives you something much more powerful." Serana explained with chilling enthusiasm.
Cura shook her head disapprovingly. "Why do people have such a fascination with having power over the dead? Why?"
"Why do Restoration mages have a fascination over manipulating life forces?" Serana asked in return.
"Because Restoration can be used to save lives." Carcette confirmed as she walked up beside Cura. "Necromancy has no beneficial contributions to add to society. It's merely a self-serving practice."
"Oh, so bringing people back from the dead is wrong?" Serana snarled. "Next time Cura dies, maybe I won't show you how I can bring her back to life."
"As a suffering, mindless Thrall, or as a Vampire?" Carcette sneered.
"Please, let's not fight!" Cura asked, trying to brush Serana's dark statement off. "We can't afford to. Not in this place."
Serana looked away with frustration. "You people really love to judge things you don't understand."
"You, as well." Carcette called her out. "Conjurers nearly doomed the known world two centuries ago. We exist to prevent such a thing from happening again."
The trio closed in next to the crumbled palisade and maintained a low profile, to continue to avoid detection from the undead that lurked around.
Cura noticed a plaque written on one of the battered walls to her left, under a stained glass window that depicted on the left, many people laboring hard, burdened with strainful luggage, and suffering the agonies of war and death. On the right side the people put down their yokes and are transfigured by a blazing green light which strips them of their tattered soiled garments and leaves them in a perfect splendor of body and spirit. Beneath the window was a simple inscription and Cura read it aloud.
'Once they struggled, hammered, cried
Fought for justice, honor, pride.
Now from time and tide released
They guard and serve in silent peace'
"Wow..." Cura took it all in. "Struggled, hammered, cried... fought for justice... that all hits very close to home." It reminded her of many an individual she knew.
"It does sound uncanny." Carcette admitted. "Though, I believe it refers to the broad range of people who have been trapped in here."
To her right, Cura found a book titled 'The Book of Life and Service' leaning against the wall, discarded.
"The Ranks of the Blessed
Blessed are the Bonemen, for they serve without self in spirit forever.
Blessed are the Mistmen, for they blend in the glory of the transcendent spirit.
Blessed are the Wrathmen, for they render their rage unto the ages.
Blessed are the Masters, for they bridge the past and span the future.
The Litany of Service
The Boneman's Oath
We die.
We pray.
To live.
We serve.
The Master's Voice
You swore.
To Serve.
Your Lord.
Commands.'
"Weird..." Serana pondered. "I suppose that means the undead here retain some semblance of thought... otherwise, who wrote these inscriptions and scribings?"
"I suppose that's how Necromancers get duped in the end." Cura mused. "The beings they receive are never fully under their control-but only the Ideal Masters' control. I'm sure they could lull the Necromancer into a false sense of security in letting the undead pretend to follow their commands, for a time."
"I hope my mother is all right..." Serana began to fret. "If they tricked her... no. There's no way. My mother would have caught on to their games. They would never have been able to steal her soul."
A transparent blue-hued man wept with his head turned downwards as he leaned against the wall; his eyes blackened and empty of all life. "Want my advice? Never welch on a bargain with the Ideal Masters... they don't take it very well."
Cura approached him closer, feeling sympathetic for the poor weeping man. "Does... does it hurt here for you? Are they torturing you?" Even though part of her soul was here, all she felt was weariness in herself, and the uncanny sense of being torn asunder spiritually. The feeling was much comparable to depression, she found, as a void rested within her heart, making each step heavier than the last in the ruined hellscape.
The specter nodded as he looked up towards the condemned sky above, stricken with lightning and shadow. "This place tears at me as though I'm still alive and being drawn and quartered. I... can't stand it anymore."
Cura wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, forgetting in the moment that he was a wraith. Her hand simply slid through him, but the gesture passed on. "I'm sorry... I wish there was some way I could help you..."
"Don't bother." The ghost rebuked her. "You'd be wasting your time. You still live. Get out while you still can."
"FEIM!" Cura shouted and she became ethereal herself. She was able to actually make contact with the soul in this state, resting her hand on his shoulder, and she passed on a prayer to Stendarr, granting the man temporary Respite before she began to phase back into her plane.
"How... how did you... what are you?" the ghostly man asked her, both impressed and confused by what just occurred. "Why... do I feel warm...?"
"I granted you Stendarr's Respite." Cura informed him. "It should give you some comfort... for a time, I hope."
"Thank you. You're very kind." the ghostly man smiled for perhaps the first time in centuries. "Whatever it is you're doing, good luck out there."
The trio continued to move through the darkness, and Cura held a hand to her breast. "What an awful place... I feel so bad for all of them. How many people may have ended up her undeservedly because a Necromancer decided they needed a sacrifice?" Her gaze fixated on a series of walls and what appeared to be a large gathering of forgotten souls lurking about up ahead.
Serana swept some dust off her right shoulder. "You're way too soft." She stated with amusement. "How did you ever become the Dragonborn, really?"
Before she could respond, Carcette moved in to Cura's defense, answering hence. "Perhaps because of her kinder, gentler nature. Have you considered that?"
"I have, and I guess it makes sense." Serana mused the concept. "If she were crueler, I'm sure she would have scorched me back in my mother's study, so I'm kind of grateful for it."
As the group walked through what appeared to be a small gathering place of the damned, they overheard many voices spilling their plight and their ghastly endings. Their voices were ethereal; wisplike and resounded in a cacophony of shadows as they wandered past.
"That's the last time I argue with a Dremora."
No kidding. Who would even consider it from the get-go? Truly not the wisest decision one could make. After all, the two biggest things in Tamriel that one should refrain from doing were: Praising Talos in front of a High Elf, arguing with a Dremora, and wearing pointed ears when Pelinal Whitestrake is in the room. Three things. Three biggest things one should refrain from doing.
"Why can't I just die? I fear I'm cursed to walk this desolate land forever."
"Did you know I visited Elswyr once? What a strange and wondrous place."
"I yearn to see the great dunes of Hammerfell once again."
"No one ever escapes. There is no escape. Why would you even try?"
"Death is but a door, time is but a window. I'll be back."
"Shhh. They're watching us. Always watching."
"A soul gem... that's what it was. Then... I must be... Oh, no."
"I can't remember how long I've been here. Has it been a day or a century?"
This poor farmer woman was beginning to forget. It was only a matter of time, then, before she would lost her sense of self and become a mindless husk. It was saddening to see.
"What day is it? What year? What era even?"
"The screams... they pierce my mind. I can't stand it!"
"Are you alive? I must be imagining this."
"Emptiness consumes me."
"Must stay away from the Keepers... must stay away from the Keepers."
Cura furrowed her brow at this statement. Surely, he wasn't referring to the Keepers of the Vigil? She looked to Carcette, who simply shrugged in response, having no clue. There were certainly no Necromancers among the Vigil of Stendarr.
""Just step into the painting" he said. Yeah, sure... like it's that simple."
"I wonder if the fires are still burning in the Imperial City..."
The gloom was palpable. Some of these people had been here since before the Vigil was created. With this man talking about fire in the Imperial City, she couldn't help but wonder if he was referring directly to the Oblivion Crisis over 200 years ago. Though, looking like a foreign guardsman in what looked like Imperial Armour of some kind, she couldn't help but believe it. Poor soul.
"I must return to the frontline Alessian headquarters at once... lives are hanging in the balance!"
"Damn Akaviri Shaman... how could I know it would trap my soul?"
"How could they trick me like this? I was one of Reman's court wizards!"
"I live in a dark world, where no light shines through. I carry this burden with every step I take."
"Only those who have suffered long can find the light within the shadows."
"This accursed place is nothing but a prison without walls."
"Stay away from the Oblivion Gate I told them. Did they listen? Of course not."
"How dare they cast me from the Battlespire! I will make them pay dearly."
The Battlespire? Cura had heard the word before, but when she approached the soul to ask him to elaborate, the man rudely turned around and walked away, fanning out to the east with a few others.
"That sky... it feels like I'm being watched. Can't stand it anymore!"
"My ship... what happened to my ship? Where am I?"
"I miss the warm sunshine. Green grass. Blue skies. I miss being alive."
"I wonder if my family misses me? I wonder if they're still alive. How much time has passed?"
"I no longer hunger, grow weary or feel anything but loneliness."
"One moment I'm raising a sword against that necromancer, the next moment I found myself here. What happened?"
"At least the pain is gone..."
"The clouds, the sky... it's all wrong. Everything's wrong."
"What am I doing here? I don't belong in a place like this!"
"So this is what it's like on the other side."
"One thousand steps and a thousand more..."
"I thought death was a release, not an eternity of torment."
"Beware the dragon Durnehviir, destroyer of souls and harbinger of the fallen."
The Dragon Durnehviir? Cura looked over to Serana. Perhaps she may have been onto something after all. Ah, well. A Dragon? Cura hasn't slain one of those in a while. She just hoped she was not out of practice.
"Stay away from the crystals or you may find yourself becoming one of us."
When Cura approached some to speak, they were quite dismissive of her, brushing her away. They were so deep in their loneliness and forlorn in their thoughts that they desired to be left alone to wallow.
"This is no place for you."
"Get out while you can."
"There's no escape."
"Leave me be."
"What a horrible place."
"Is there no end to this nightmare?"
"Please... end this misery."
Heading past the congregation and recognizing a familiar set of Novice Robes, Carcette sadly looked upon a fellow Vigilant of Stendarr, who held his head in his hands and looked down at the floor, trembling with terror as he sat on a large rock, sobbing. "Madness. It was madness to attack that coven of witches! Why didn't they listen to me?"
"Because we are a stubborn bunch." Carcette responded.
The Vigilant was stunned for a moment after she spoke and raised his face to see the source of the familiar feminine voice. Ghostly tears moved down his face, as the fellow had been crying to himself for some time. "No... Keeper Carcette?!" He sat upright in frightened disbelief. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me...you're...?"
"No, I'm not Soul-Trapped, don't worry." the former Keeper of the Vigil tried to reassure her lost Vigilant.
"You're... you're a vampire!" the Vigilant exclaimed in surprise and nearly fell backwards off the stone seat.
"It's a long, and very arduous tale." Carcette tried to redirect the flow of the conversation. "To shorten it, the Hall was destroyed by Vampires, and they turned me out of spite. There is something in this dark realm that can be used to defeat their leader, and I plan to avenge us."
"Good! Avenge me, too." the Vigilant stated firmly. "Though... I don't know who it was who killed me... there were so many witches. It was somewhere in the Rift... Darklight Tower. Please, kill them all when you get out of here!"
Carcette reassured him. "I will see to it that their names will be erased from under the heavens."
"Thank you, Keeper!" the Vigilant clasped his hands together. "Thank you..."
Cura caught up with Carcette and noticed the Vigilant there. "A Vigilant of Stendarr, here in the Soul Cairn?!"
"The Divines only help when they feel like it." Serana stated mockingly as she approached, to Cura's annoyance.
The deceased Vigilant turned to face the Dragonborn. "Vigilant Cura! I remember you! You were the Keeper's Trainee, right? Wow, you've changed since I last saw you!"
'Vigilant Brynn!" Cura exclaimed. She was pleasantly surprised to see a somewhat familiar, and friendly face at first until context settled in and her smile immediately warped into a frown. "Oh... oh, no. I'm so sorry."
"Witches. I told the others it was a foolish endeavour." Vigilant Brynn remarked. "I don't know what happened to the others, but I hope they're not here."
"Everyone says there's no way out of here..." Cura mused. "But there's an open portal now, to the south." she pointed towards an open light above ascending stone stairs that formed a comparatively small fissure in the sky. "Gather the other souls and try to exit through it!"
The spectral Vigilant looked towards the portal far off in the distance. "That... wasn't there before..." He took s few steps forward to peer over the structures that obscured his view. "Can a soul pass through there?"
"Should be able to." Serana stated. "Only the living are unable to go through it."
Brynn immediately looked at Cura. "You look alive to me."
"She is partially Soul-Trapped." Serana explained. "It allowed her to enter while still living."
"Clever." Vigilant Brynn remarked.
Serana looked at Cura with an emboldened expression.
Cura ignored her and continued to speak with Vigilant Brynn. "I hope you can make it out of here. Stendarr be with you."
"Stendarr be with you, as well. All of you." Vigilant Brynn took his leave and headed west towards the spirit congregation to break the potentially good news.
Carcette feared how many Vigilants she would come across here, should they linger. Their profession was truly a dangerous undertaking - and naturally, one should expect facing the forces of evil head-on would yield outcomes like this.
At the end of the day, it was truly as dangerous for Cura as being Dragonborn. As much as Carcette tried to protect the young Breton from these horrors, here she found herself, walking side by side with her in the Soul Cairn regardless.
Destiny was a cruel bitch.
"Can I ask you something?" Cura spoke aside to Serana, finally beginning to leave her coldness behind.
"Of course. What is it?"
"What will you do if we find your mother?" Cura needed to know what they were getting themselves into.
"I've been asking myself the same thing since we came back to the castle. She was so sure of what we did to my father, I couldn't help but go along with her. I never thought of the cost." Serana was saddened by the hollow memory. It pained her to remember how they all parted.
Cura crossed her arms. "It sounds like she was pretty selfish."
"She wasn't, always. But I think you're right. She was practically smirking as we left home. Almost like she was proud of herself. Like she didn't want to just stop my father... she wanted to stick it to him, too." Serana mused. Spitting Harkon was one thing, but tearing their family apart to do it was something else entirely.
Well, that explained the 'put her head on a spike' remark Harkon made when she returned to the castle from Dimhollow Crypt, as Cura recalled the sheer hatred in his voice.
"We won't know until we find her." Cura said, rather unsure of the whole plan. But first things first.
"Yes... yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I just didn't expect anyone to care how I felt about her. Thank you." Serana expressed gratitude with a soft smile, but received but a nod from Cura.
Lightning struck a tower on a building nearby, and a once Common Soul Gem was tainted black. Then, it was raised into the air and into the gyrating blackness above. The bolt terrified what seemed to be a blue Skeletal Horse with purple flames, similar in appearance to the fabled Nightmare. It whinnied in fear with a ghastly voice and rushed out into the field.
Cura was both fearful and surprised to see such a creature.
"I don't believe it!" Serana exclaimed in shock. "The Soul Cairn does accept Animals after all!"
Cura quickly ran after the horse, but it vanished into the thick fog. Then she looked around, and realized that she was in an open area, with only small bushes to offer cover. She waved Serana and Carcette over, and they examined the surroundings cautiously.
Wisplike ghosts flew past them, glowing orbs, and flew upwards into the everpresent crystals above, absorbed into their being.
"I... I don't want to know what that was." Cura shuddered and clenched her shoulders with both hands. "I know it wasn't mine, but still... it's... morbid."
Carcette agreed. "Don't let it get to you, Cura. Just use it as motivation in your vocation. This is why we Vigilants do what we must."
"Wait! You! You look like a kind sort! Please, you must help me!" The soul of a frantic man approached Cura, running in her direction and pleading with his hands clasped together. "You must help me find my Arvak. He doesn't deserve to be in a place like this!"
Cura held out her hands and waved softly in attempt to pacify the panicking man. "Calm down. Who's Arvak?"
"Arvak. My horse. We came to this horrible place together. We were attacked by monsters, so I told him to run." The man hung his head sadly. "Please, he's such a loyal creature, and he's been running for so long. You have to save him! A place like this will change you..."
The Horse. Cura and her allies had seen one earlier when the lightning struck the top of the tower. Could that be him? "How can I help him?" Cura asked.
"Arvak! Arvak, where are you? Arvak, please come back! Come back!" The soul wept as he called out to the horse and slowly vanished from view.
Suddenly, a Wrathman pried itself up out of the ground and swung his black battleaxe in attempt to cleave Cura's ankles.
Cura was quick to jump out of the way, and quickly noticed glowing, red eyes beyond the bushes and headstones that surrounded her. She was surrounded.
Serana was quick, plunging an icicle into the first Wrathman's back, and Cura brought her mace down on its black, glossy skull when it was staggered. When it hit the floor it melted into black sludge and ectoplasm.
A Mistman fired an icicle at Carcette as she approached, and she blocked it with Stendarr's Hammer, holding it out horizontally in front of her. As she approached, she partied a couple more before giving chase to the phantom.
Cura shield-bashed another Wrathman and followed up with a few bludgeoning whacks, but this skeleton was much more durable than the natural ones. Fear welled up in the Breton when the fiend caught her next swing in mid-air and held Cura in place for the moment. Unlike ordinary undead, this skeleton seemed to have some kind of sentience; or rather, some combat training in its history. Part of its humanity surely remained, but its power was greater than normal Undead.
Cura slammed her shield into its ribs and wrested her mace free.
Another Wrathman slashed her in the back, and she quickly dropped and rolled away. The sudden strip of sharpness and the stinging feeling catching her by surprise.
A Boneman, a slightly gaunter black skeleton leapt out of the bushes towards Carcette as she missed the Mistman with her warhammer, and stabbed her in the side.
"Nargh!" Carcette exclaimed and spun around, bashing the Boneman in the face with the shaft of her hammer and splitting its nasal bone, and then rushing it down with a winding arc, catching two others that came as if from nowhere, sending the three flying a few feet backwards.
Serana summoned a Gargoyle and rushed down the Mistman, gaining an icicle in her chest in the process but ultimately driving her sword into its head,
Cura clasped her hands together and summoned a Circle of Protection around her person, and the Wrathmen and Bonemen that came out to hunt were kept at bay due to the divine power that formed a sure boundary around her. Cura took the time to cast a Healing Spell on herself as she cursed Serana for dragging her into this.
It did not take long, however, for her Circle of Protection to begin to wane, as Cura was substantially weakened by the partial loss of her soul, and her assailants wasted no time in closing in upon her.
Fortunately, Stendarr's Hammer flew through the air, smashing through a couple of them with great force, and Carcette became visible in front of Cura, wielding it. Her speed was astonishing.
And to think, Cura had to contend with creatures like her.
Insanity.
Serana's Gargoyle managed to dispatch a couple of Bonemen, but was eventually slain by a Wrathman with a bow off in the distance. That same Wrathman then redirected his bow towards Cura's back, and Serana quickly shot an icicle at its hand, knocking the weapon from it and getting Cura's attention.
It took a moment to register what happened, but Cura immediately understood. "Thank you, Serana." That was one less hole in her body.
"You're welcome. Maybe try Detect Dead?" Serana suggested.
Cura snapped her fingers. "Of course! How could I have forgotten?" Truly, Vigilant Tolan would be shaking his head at her for that if he were here. She quickly used the spell and realized there were many, many more Soul Cairn Undead lurking around and they were utterly sandwiched in this area by them. And they still kept coming. "Oh, okay... Carcette?"
The former Keeper deflected a harsh blow from a Wrathman's battleaxe, and staggered backwards lightly, her foot pushing up some dirt behind her. "What is it, Cura?"
"There are too many!" Cura exclaimed. "They're guarding the captive souls!" She pointed towards the buildings with floating gems atop them. A flutter in her chest as her heart reached out to the piece of life she had lost. "Wait... my soul piece! I feel it! It's nearby!"
"In an Essence Gem somewhere..." Serana quickly grabbed Cura by under her arms and flew higher into the air to avoid the raging crowd below. She began to fly through the air. "Tell me when we're close."
Carcette continued to fight the oncoming mob, and called upon Stendarr's Aura, which drove most of them away.
In hindsight, Cura probably understood how the Dragons felt when she absorbed their souls.
As they approached a building with a large gem floating atop, the malevolent stone entity outstretched its own energy directly to Cura and began to siphon her energy, "Gah!" Cura wailed as her health began to deteriorate and her body was wracked with pain.
"Are you all right?" Serana asked, finally exhibiting some concern for her very much mortal friend.
Cura cast a continuous Healing Spell on herself in an effort to combat the siphoning force, and she appeared to be succeeding, as she felt her life force replenishing. Perhaps the blessing from Mara was at play here, as her Healing Spells seemed to be more powerful and less strenuous as normal. "Keep going, Serana; we're almost there! I can feel my soul!" She pointed downwards towards a specific rooftop on the next building over.
Serana obliged, and swooped down with Cura, who was continuing to fend off the Ideal Masters' spiritual assault upon her. When the pair descended the steps on the roof, they found themselves in a turquoise-tinted chamber within, where there was a large coffin, and on the wall, a carved drawing of the face of a Dragon. There were tall candelabras extending from the floor in the corners of the small room, and hieroglyphic scribings on the walls surrounding the coffin.
"What is this place...?" Cura asked anxiously.
A booming voice spoke from above. "You stand within the precincts of the Soul Cairn, an otherworldly refuge dedicated to peace, love, eternal rest and harmony. You stand before one of its Makers, whose name is so exalted you may not even speak it. You walk among its servants, who have pledged themselves in service to us, and who in reward have been gifted with life eternal and the peace that passes all mortal understanding."
"Peace and love? Rest and harmony?" Cura exclaimed, highlighting the absurdity. "I've seen nothing of the sort, you are lying, fiend! You steal men's souls and make them your slaves!"
"Would you enter our service, mortal?" the voice spoke with sweetness. "Perhaps once you are reborn, you will understand the sweet succor. The form your spirit may take afterwards varies. You will have seen the servants of our realm. "
"Ha!" Cura laughed aloud at the asinine offer. "You mean that I'll die and become a walking skeleton or a howling ghost? If that's how it works, then I'm not joining your service. Not that I would even consider it to begin with!"
"Test us not, for our realm is ours, Cura Stormcloak, and death is aught but a certainty." The voice trailed off and lowered itself into the sarcophagus. The energy siphon began to intensify, putting greater strain onto Cura, who was beginning to buckle under the pressure to maintain her Healing, she wound up drinking a Magicka potion to replenish her reserves, and even utilized her Dragonskin with the vain hope of absorbing some of the magicka from the siphon, but the fiend only grew more powerful, determined to kill her now.
Nearby, there was an offering chest, and Cura could feel her heart throbbing harder and harder. "It's in there... but if I stop casting, this bastard will drink my soul dry! Serana..." She nudged her head towards the chest,
"Already on it." Serana whisked past Cura and quickly opened the chest, finding a semi-blackened Soul Gem. As soon as she touched it, it almost burned her hands from the sheer amount of heat stored within. "The soul of a Dragonborn..." She swiftly juggled the molten stone and abruptly handed it to Cura.
The instant it made contact with Cura's flesh, a purplish orange aura burst forth and rushed into her body, reminiscent of the way Dragon Souls were absorbed into her. A flash of light ensued, and the Ideal Master's draining spell was halted for a brief time. Cura exhaled deeply as her green eyes were luminated with fire. "Ah... that feels so much better. I can feel my strength returning!"
"Then let's get out of here before the Ideal Master comes to!" Serana quickly grabbed Cura by the arm and led her outside, and the pair ran a generous distance away from the offering building.
Cura looked towards Serana. "Are you okay, Serana?" Her coldness from earlier appears to have melted.
Serana smiled. "I'm fine. That was pretty neat, actually. I've never held a Dragon Soul before."
Cura scratched her left arm and looked back at the frightening building. "What was that chamber?"
"I believe it was a burial chamber of the Ideal Master that floats above it." Serana mused. "Just a guess, of course."
"Wait... how?" Cura was confused. "Why would they have a burial chamber?"
"Well, common lore holds that the Ideal Masters were once Necromancers themselves and formed an early order of sorcerers who practiced necromancy, trafficking in souls, great, small, and fragmentary. They became very powerful, and eventually found their physical forms to be unacceptably weak and limiting. They transcended those forms and became beings of soul-energy. " Serana stated. "Or, so I have read, anyways."
Cura wondered how they knew of her relation to Ulfric, having addressed her using his last name, but then it became apparent that these were transcendental entities. Perhaps they knew more than they let on. She was not going to stick around to find out, though.
"Well... it certainly seemed like it to me." Cura responded.
Carcette smashed another Wrathman into the ground and hurried to rejoin the pair. "Are you both all right? I saw a large burst of light!"
"We're fine, Carcette." Cura reassured her mentor. "Serana retrieved my soul essence!"
Carcette gave Serana a look of approval. "Good. Now, let's move on, shall we?"
"Yes, I'm sure my mother is in that large building near the Boneyard." Serana mused. "If I'm wrong, then... I don't know. I really don't know where we could go from there..."
"You made it seem as though you had a greater plan in effect." Carcette scorned her. "You brought us here on vague guesswork alone?"
"It's not that." Serana tried to justify her position. "It just... it makes sense, all right? Trust me. That's all I ask!"
Cura crossed her arms. "Not like we have any other options. Lead the way." She gestured for Serana to walk ahead, and the vampiress sighed bitterly as she obliged, leading them through the damned landscape.
After some time of meandering, they saw an ornate tower with four ghosts surrounding it, kneeling as if in prayer. In the center, there was what appeared to be the skull of a horse.
"Oh no!" Cura exclaimed. "How could they?!"
"Cura-" before Carcette could stop her, Cura already rushed towards the gathering.
Upon approaching the skull, the souls revealed their true natures as Mistmen.
Another battle ensued, but ended quite quickly due to Cura casting Circle of Protection. With her full strength back, she was able to maintain it for long enough that it caused the demons to scatter in fear. Carcette and Serana managed to catch a couple of them and fight them down, but two others escaped.
The lack of dignity shown to the poor creature disgusted Cura, and she felt that she needed to do something - anything. As soon as the way was clear and Cura laid a hand on the horse's skull, the soul of the panicked horseman appeared before Cura. "Arvak...You saved him! His soul is free, I can feel it! He's such a loyal beast. Here, I'll teach you how to call him to you." the wayward spirit placed a hand on Cura's own and emitted a purple glow. "He'll help you get around this wretched place, but I'm sure he'd be much happier someplace sunnier."
Cura nodded. "If I can, I will let him see the mountains again. This is my promise. I wish I could do the same for you, as well..."
The despairing man was now at peace, and shook his head. He knew his time was come. "Goodbye, hero! Take good care of Arvak for me! Such a good horse..." the spirit bid his final farewell as he slowly disappeared for good, leaving behind a shriveled cocoonlike object in his place, much to Cura's horror.
"A Soul Husk..." Serana stated. "So that's how they're formed."
Cura stood there in pause for a moment, and a lone tear ran down her cheek. That poor man was dead, vanquished. No longer existent. What became of his consciousness? Was he entirely erased?
It was mortifying to even think about. Cura looked to Serana and Carcette. "He's... gone. Completely. There's... nothing left. His soul... where... why...?" She sat down on a nearby rock. "How could the Divines allow such a place to exist? To torment people like so? To... to erase people from existence?"
"Perhaps it's merciful, in the end." Serana mused. "They no longer have to exist in eternal torment."
"Is that what Alduin will do?" Cura thought to her higher calling. "Erase... everyone? Just like that?"
"Cura, Alduin isn't the only threat right now." Carcette reminded her. "You'll face him in due time. If you want to see that battle, we must get that Scroll and leave this place before it no longer matters."
Cura took a deep breath and stood up again. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just... I've never seen such a thing before..."
Carcette looked to the Soul Husk. "He looked peaceful in his final moments, at least. For that much, we can be glad."
Cura turned around and stormed back towards the offering houses, and looked upwards, facing one of the giant crystals. She then inhaled and released. "FUS RO DAH!" A thunderous blast fired from her mouth and hit what she believed to be the Ideal Master, causing them to rock in the air slightly, but nothing more happened beyond that.
"You're really pushing your luck." Serana placed her hands on her hips and shook her head at the sheer stupidity of that action.
Carcette had no objection to her actions. As far as she was concerned, she wished she had the Thu'um so she could partake, as well.
"It felt good." Cura admitted as she turned around and walked eastward.
After some more walking, they headed up the stairs of the large temple-like building Serana had mentioned being near the Boneyard, and Serana ran ahead of Cura and Carcette.
That was when Serana's eyes lit up. A familiar figure was walking amongst the pillars, enclosed within a magenta-coloured barrier. It was a woman who bore similar features to Serana, with brown hair, pulled back in two regal buns, and wearing an identical set of Royal Vampire Armour.
Serana began to rush towards her, her heart fueled by excitement. "Mother? Mother!"
The woman quickly turned around and looked to the source calling out to her. Her own eyes widened in shock. "Maker... it can't be. Serana?"
Serana laid her hands on the barrier. "Is it really you? I can't believe it! How do we get inside? We have to talk."
Valerica quickly altered the course of the conversation. "Serana? What are you doing here? Where's your father?"
Serana shook her head and continued to examine the barrier separating them. "He doesn't know we're here. I don't have time to explain."
Valerica placed a hand on her head. "I must have failed. Harkon's found a way to decipher the prophecy, hasn't he."
"No, you've got it all wrong. We're here to stop him... to make everything right." Serana expressed as Cura and Carcette emerged behind her.
"Wait a moment..." Valerica realized this. "you've brought strangers here? Have you lost your mind?"
"No, you don't..."
Before Serana could justify her choices, Valerica immediately pointed to Cura and gestured for her. "You. Come forward. I would speak with you."
Cura froze for a moment, but took a few steps forward, parking herself to Serana's right side.
"So how has it come to pass that a vampire hunter is in the company of my daughter? It pains me to think you'd travel with Serana under the guise of her protector in an effort to hunt me down." Valerica studied Cura up and down.
So she did know about the Vigil of Stendarr! A wave of discomfort swept the Breton and she readjusted her collar in effort to calm herself.
Cura shook her head. "This is no ruse. I want to keep her safe, and help her in her ordeals."
Serana looked over at Cura with the corner of her eye as slight guilt began to manifest itself within. She did treat Cura unjustly earlier, but the fact Cura was willing to stand by her side and face Valerica made her feel a little warmer within.
"Coming from one who murders vampires as a trade, I find it hard to believe your intentions are noble." Valerica crossed her arms dismissively. "Serana has sacrificed everything to prevent Harkon from completing the prophecy. I would have expected her to explain that to you."
"And she has." Cura confirmed.
"We've saved her from your foolish plan." Carcette crossed her arms and tilted her head in disapproval, mirroring Valerica's reaction to Cura.
"I find your choice of words quite interesting considering that Serana is in far more danger now than she was following my 'foolish plan.'"Valerica sneered at the Breton.
"Your plan was discovered by one of my subordinates unintentionally, and your husband found out about his excavation." Carcette stated. "His minions tore our base of operations to the ground and cursed me with this... undeath to pry information out of my subordinate. Your plan to hide the Scroll would have unraveled at the seams if not for Cura, so before you judge her too harshly, perhaps try and hear her out."
Cura was surprised that Carcette gave her credit like that, but she took it and beamed proudly. "And that's also why I'm here for the Elder Scroll."
"You think I'd have the audacity to place my own daughter in that tomb for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone?" Valerica howled with disgust. "The scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself."
"What do you mean?" Cura asked.
"When I fled Castle Volkihar, I fled with two Elder Scrolls. The scroll I presume you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel's Bow." Valerica explained. "The second scroll declares that 'The Blood of Coldharbour's Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon.'"
"Blind the eye of the Dragon?" Cura was confused by the analogy. It seemed something she would know, or rather, should, but she was uncertain.
"The sun." Carcette clarified. "Auri-El is the Elven name for Akatosh, and the sun is called his eye. I've heard Vigilant Adalvald say that once."
Cura was shocked that their conjecture was right, but pried further for clarity on the grand scheme of this. "How does Serana fit into all this?"
"Like myself, Serana was a human once. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal." Valerica spoke with a taint of disdain, but with reverence as well, Cura noted. Valerica continued. "Tradition dictates the females be offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day. Few survive the ordeal. Those that do emerge as a pure-blooded vampire. We call such confluences the 'Daughters of Coldharbour.'"
"It's exactly the kind of perversion that set upon Lamae Bal in ancient times." Carcette spat venom. "That's ridiculous, that you would turn to such a fiend to be violated as such. Serana underwent this ritual willingly?"
Serana turned her face away shamefully, and Cura rested a firm hand on her shoulder, understanding what led up to it.
"It was expected of her, just as it was expected of me. Being selected as an offering to Molag Bal is an honor. She wouldn't have dared turn her back on that." Valerica glared at her daughter before returning her serpentine gaze to the one-eyed Breton. "And yet, even with all your virginal piety, you belong to him now, as well." Valerica reminded her with mockery of her faith added in for good measure. "You are not a true Daughter of Coldharbour, fortunately for you, but his mark is upon you."
Before Carcette could keep the fight going, Cura returned to the subject at hand. "So, the Tyranny of the Sun requires Serana's blood?"
"Now you're beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I've kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as possible." Valerica condescended.
Cura became worried for her friend. "Are you saying Harkon means to kill her?" Her voice became shrill.
Serana shuffled in place and held her arms in her hands in morose fashion. She always knew, deep down, that it would come to that. Only now, those once benign fears were justified.
"If Harkon obtained Auriel's Bow and Serana's blood was used to taint the weapon, the Tyranny of the Sun would be complete. In his eyes, she'd be dying for the good of all vampires." Valerica spat on her husband's terrible ambitions.
Cura saw the fearful expression on Serana's face, and felt a sort of visceral rage boil upwards. "I would never allow that to happen!"
Valerica was willing to test her. "And how exactly do you plan on stopping him?"
"For that, I'll need your help." Cura stated.
"Have you been listening to me? Like Serana, I'm a pure-blooded vampire. My presence on Tamriel is as much of a danger as hers." Valerica restated her point, thinking Cura to be slow in the head, but missing the point about her Scroll.
"And Serana's opinion in this?" Carcette asked.
"You care nothing for Serana or our plight. Whether or not you've become one of us in order to survive the Soul Cairn, you're both still vampire hunters at heart." Valerica pointed at Carcette in particular with a lengthy, clawed finger. "You're here because we're abominations in your mind. Evil creatures that need to be destroyed."
Carcette had no argument, but she did have insight. "Perhaps, but perhaps there are other ways to go about it. Perhaps death is not the only solution... I have learned that now."
"And you." Valerica pointed at Cura. "You're her little Familiar, it would seem. I'm certain that on a coin toss you'd cast my daughter in here with me. Let that be the new solution, is that right?"
"Serana believes in me, why won't you?" When she said it aloud, Cura began to rethink her distrust of the vampiress. It was true that Serana placed a lost of trust and took many a risk to accept Cura's help. For a time, she had forgotten their differences, as they didn't seem to matter. It was only when the necromancy became apparent that Cura began to second-guess her. She began to feel like a fool.
Valerica turned her attention to her daughter. "Serana? This stranger may call herself your friend, but she knows nothing of our struggle, Why should I entrust you to her?"
Serana flew into a rage, and snapped at her mother. "This "stranger" has done more for me in the brief time I've known her than you've done in centuries!"
Valerica was taken aback by shock for the moment, but quickly took to the offensive. "How dare you! I gave up everything I cared about to protect you from that fanatic you call a father!"
"Yes, he's a fanatic... he's changed. But he's still my father. Why can't you understand how that makes me feel?!" Serana nearly burst into tears, her voice breaking upon the realization that her own father sought her death. Her heart was breaking, but she still refused to fully accept it. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe the prophecy was mistranslated. There had to be another way...
Valerica placed a hand on her end of the barrier, unable to reach her child. "Oh, Serana. If you'd only open your eyes. The moment your father discovers your role in the prophecy, that he needs your blood, you'd be in terrible danger."
Serana turned her back to her and crossed her arms as the tears began to flow from her flaming eyes. "So to protect me you decided to shut me away from everything I cared about? You never asked me if hiding me in that tomb was the best course of action, you just expected me to follow you blindly. Both of you were obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end, I'm still just a pawn to you, too. I want us to be a family again. But I don't know if we can ever have that. Maybe we don't deserve that kind of happiness. Maybe it isn't for us. But we have to stop him. Before he goes too far. And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll."
Valerica relented, at last. Her frozen heart melted by the warm tears of her pained daughter. "I'm sorry, Serana. I didn't know... I didn't see. I've allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us for too long. Forgive me. If you want the Elder Scroll, it's yours."
It was small consolation, but it was something. Cura gently put an arm around Serana to comfort her, and gently rubbed her arm.
Valerica looked to the strange sight of a Vigilant of Stendarr embracing a Daughter of Coldharbour, but began to see that her intentions were not wicked in nature. Still, she was a Vigilant, and thus, confused her. "Your intentions are still somewhat unclear to me. But for Serana's sake, I'll assist you in any way that I can."
"Thank you. Do you have the Elder Scroll with you?" Cura began to shift around, looking for the object within the small confines beyond the barrier.
"Yes. I've kept it safely secured here ever since I was imprisoned. Fortunately, you're in a position to breach the barrier that surrounds these ruins." Valerica noted graciously.
"All right. How can we breach it?" Cura went straight to the point.
"You need to locate the tallest of the rocky spires that surround these ruins. At their bases, the barrier's energy is being drawn from unfortunate souls that have been exiled here. Destroy the Keepers that are tending them, and it should bring the barrier down." Valerica explained.
"We'll return soon." Cura assured her as she turned to head down the stairs.
"One more word of warning." Valerica halted her. "There's a dragon that calls itself Durnehviir roaming the Cairn. Be wary of him. The Ideal Masters have charged him with overseeing the Keepers, and will undoubtedly intervene if you're perceived as a threat."
There was a Dragon here.
Cura, Carcette and Serana exchanged glances.
"I guess you were right about my tagging along." Cura mused.
"How did you become imprisoned here?" Serana asked her mother.
"When I entered the Soul Cairn, I had intended to strike a bargain with the Ideal Masters, the custodians of this place." Valerica began.
"What was the bargain?" Serana had to know.
"I requested refuge in the Soul Cairn, and in exchange, I would provide the Ideal Masters the souls that they craved. If I had foreseen the value they placed on my own soul, I would never have come here." Valerica regretted her foolish bargain the more she thought on it.
"They tricked you." Carcette said flatly.
"The Ideal Masters unleashed their Keepers and sent them to destroy me. Fortunately, I was able to hold them at bay and retreat into these ruins." Valerica said.
"You became trapped." Cura realized the futility of her surroundings.
"Unfortunately, yes. Since the Keepers weren't able to claim my soul, they had their minions construct a barrier that I'd never be able to breach." Valerica scoffed in irritation.
At least these Keepers weren't the Vigil's Keepers, after all.
"Wait..." Cura paused. "You've been imprisoned here for all this time?!" How many centuries had she been here?
"Time has very little meaning to me. Consequently, it has little meaning to the Ideal Masters as well." Valerica laughed as she spat in the face of her captors. "I suppose you could call this the ultimate waiting game, each watching the other to see which will give in."
"What do you know about the Ideal Masters?" Cura asked. "I think I may have had a direct encounter with one." She was hoping to gain more insight concerning these occult beings.
Valerica admitted her lack of knowledge. "I know very little about them. They're mystic entities that lord over the Soul Cairn, controlling every aspect from its fabric to its appearance."
"What do they resemble?" Cura wondered genuinely.
"Well, some necromancers believe they are the crystalline structures dotting the Soul Cairn. I believe there's more to it than that." Valerica postulated. "I think they transcend what we perceive as a physical form. Perhaps they were once corporeal beings, but they've obviously reached a point where they no longer require a tangible presence."
"I think you may be right." Cura agreed. "They're certainly on another level. What of the crystals? What do you make of them?"
"Conduits through which the Ideal Masters speak to their underlings and feed on their victims." Valerica stated.
"That makes sense. They tried that on her already." Serana pointed at Cura.
"The Ideal Masters's weakness is their insatiable hunger for pure souls. It's the reason for the Soul Cairn's existence, and the only leverage a necromancer has when bargaining with them." Valerica explained.
"They must have gotten greedy, trying to consume the soul of a Dragonborn." Serana scoffed.
Vatcette wasn't completely sold yet. She walked up to the barrier directly in front of Valerica. "Why haven't you pursued the prophecy? It sounds like something that any vampire would find enticing."
Valerica could not deny that the proposal of a world without the sun would make navigation easier, but it would not work. "Harkon's vision is a world plunged in eternal darkness where the vampire can flourish and never again fear the "tyranny of the sun." What he fails to realize is how much attention would be called to our kind if the prophecy came to fruition."
"You'd better believe it." Carcette informed her. "Many militant groups - not just the Dawnguard or the Vigil of Stendarr - would be pouring into your castle."
Valerica leaned against a post nearby. "Exactly my point. If eternal night fell, there are many who wouldn't stand for it. They would raise armies in attempts to return things to normal. The order of the day would be our destruction until every last vampire was hunted down and eliminated."
"So you prefer living in the shadows." Cura said.
"I do. It's how the vampire has survived for millennia, and the only way we can continue to survive in the future." Valerica concluded. "Now, if you want to speed this up, you'd best slay the Keepers and stop the flow of energy. I wish you good luck. Though if you're truly Dragonborn, this shouldn't prove too difficult for you."
"We'll get you out of this trap. Don't worry about it." Serana told her mother as the trio began to descend the stairs.
"Cura, was it?" Valerica called out to the Dragonborn, prompting her to turn around. "Please, protect my Serana."
Cura smiled and nodded. "Of course."
"I can't believe we found my mother alive... well, you know what I mean." Serana seemed a little emotionally spent as they walked back into the wastes. "Let's kill those... Keeper things and get back to the prison."
Cura had to ask out of concern for her friend. "How are you feeling after talking to your mother?"
"Relieved... I think." Serana tried to articulate it. "All those things had been building for a while. You have no idea how long I wanted to say that to her."
"Oh, I know what you mean, don't worry." Cura said as she discreetly gestured towards Carcette, causing Serana to smile with amusement.
Carcette looked confused. "Hmm? Is something funny?"
Cura chuckled and Serana joined in, and it slowly evolved into full-blown giggles. "I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could be doing this alone."
Carcette soured the mood. "Why did you ever agree to her plan?"
Serana stopped laughing, and even smiling.
"Look, I loved my father, but when he found that prophecy... that became his life. Everything else, even me and my mother... we just became clutter. I was close with my mother, but she just kept feeding me her opinions of him, and eventually I started believing them."
"She doesn't seem too fond of him." Cura observed. The hate was mutual between them, it seemed.
"The moment we gave ourselves to Molag Bal, things got really icy between them." Serana admitted. "They were both drunk with power, and pulling in different directions. Then he found that prophecy, and... that was it."
Perhaps Mara understood Serana's position in all of this, and that was why the Goddess of Love didn't hold it against her.
Just as Stendarr understood Carcette's plight, and perhaps Fenrik's, as well.
"You shouldn't blame yourself." Cura reassured her. She was caught up in her parents' bad choices. "It sounds like they were both being selfish."
"Oh, they definitely were. I just wonder if that meant it was my job to be giving. But I just can't help feeling bad about... the way things are." Serana sighed. "Sorry, I know you're trying to help. Thanks."
Cura looked towards a large structure far off in the distance, shrouded in darkness. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."