4E 202, Meridia's Temple
Kiera Fendalyn
Kiera tore off a piece of bone from the skeletal dragon, putting it inside one of her knapsacks.
"How much do you think Gerron would want from this?" Kiera asked Serana.
The Vampire herself just snorted as folded her arms. "It's not a terribly huge dragon. A fifth the size of Vermithor I would say. Gerron did tell me he's running out of dragonbone and scales from Caraxes and the two you fought at the Western Watchtower."
"Yeah well, unlike him, we don't have a convenient infinite storage to put all this in so this'll have to be enough." Kiera mused as she took a few pieces of the Dragon's teeth.
From what she can tell, there was a good three hundred pounds of dragon bone that she managed to salvage and could carry before getting too overencumbered.
A sudden glow had her turn. On the altar of Meridia's shrine, a sword shone with golden light. Meridia's voice returned.
"Malkoran is dead and the spirit who possessed him vanquished. Skyrim's dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be. This is because of you. A new day is dawning. And you shall be its herald."
Legate Rikke and Adventus had just arrived at the ruined doors of the temple, only to be struck still by the voice of a Daedric Prince filling the sacred hall.
"Take the mighty Dawnbreaker, a weapon worthy of the Dragonborn. With it, purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, so that my influence may grow."
Kiera stepped forward, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the shining blade. It was warm, like the first rays of morning sun on a winter's day. As she pulled it free, a pulse of energy surged through her body, clearing the fatigue from her limbs, and igniting a righteous fury within her veins.
Behind her, Serana hissed softly, shrinking back from the light.
"I'll keep the sword," Kiera said coolly, holding it aloft as though judging its weight. "But find someone else to spread your religion. I am a devout of Stendarr and him only."
There was a pause, and then an amused chuckle echoed through the golden chamber.
"It matters not who you worship. The plant cares nothing for the rays that bring it the warmth of the sun. As you carry Dawnbreaker, so will my light touch the world. I suppose you would also deserve a reward, Daughter of Coldharbour."
Light flared suddenly as Serana flinched, eyes squeezed shut. But instead of pain, a calming warmth flowed over her.
"I have blessed you with the light of Meridia. For helping the Dragonborn rid my temple of undead, I give you this. The sun shall hurt you no longer. Keep serving me loyally, and perhaps I will rid you of Molag Bal's curse entirely."
Serana froze. "You…can cure me of this?"
"I am the Daedric Prince of Life. Anything Molag Bal created, I can undo.Though it certainly won't be easy."
And with that, the presence faded. The light dimmed, though Dawnbreaker still glowed like a torch in Kiera's hand.
Serana blinked. For the first time since Kiera had met her, hope shone in her eyes. Real, unguarded, childlike hope. But it flickered—like a candle in the wind—as she looked down at her hands and frowned.
"Was…was she telling the truth?" Rikke finally asked, her voice hesitant. "I never knew there was a cure for vampirism…"
Kiera's brow furrowed. "It's hard to tell. Meridia is one of the more benevolent Princes…but a Daedra is still a Daedra. They always have their own goals and schemes. Still…she's not known to lie."
Serana spoke before anyone else could. "She's telling the truth. You know as well as I do the famous rivalry between her and Molag Bal. She'd undo his legacy if only to spite him. I'd certainly—"
She was interrupted as Meridia's voice returned.
"Oh yes, before I forget. I should mention that the Champion that Molag Bal has chosen is your father. Harkon Volkihar now wields the Mace of Molag Bal."
There was a small beat of horrified silence.
"Dawnbreaker is one of the only weapons in existence who could contend with the ugly mace. So good luck with that."
And then she was gone.
Serana pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why am I not surprised that my dear old father was the one chosen of all people?"
Kiera frowned as she lowered Dawnbreaker slowly. "This just complicates things. Harkon was already a threat when he was leading a whole court of pure-blooded vampires. Being a Chosen of a Prince would make him even more powerful."
Rikke spoke up. "I may have a lead on that front, Lady Dragonborn. Lady Serana."
The two turned to the blonde-haired Legate, who gave Legate Adventus a careful glance before continuing. "Before this mission, I heard an odd tidbit from Elenwen back in the Blue Palace."
"The Thalmor Ambassador?"
Rikke nodded. "Apparently, Northwatch Keep has fallen. To vampires. Elenwen is preparing to mobilize Thalmor troops to reclaim it."
Kiera whirled to Serana, who nodded with a frown. "That makes sense. Northwatch isn't far from Volkihar. Haafingar would make the ideal first stop for their campaign." Serana said.
"So he's already begun to move." Kiera's jaw tightened. "And now that we know Harkon wields the Mace of Molag Bal—he's probably one of the most powerful creatures to exist right now, aside from the dragons."
"We still don't know their true goal aside from the Prophecy, and even then it's vague enough for us to not be able to predict their movements." Serana crossed her arms, looking pensive. "I'm just glad the Thalmor are the ones who are taking the first beating."
"If I may," Rikke interjected again, "perhaps going to Solitude would be wise. I heard that Jarl Elisif received a message from Ulfric Stormcloak—something about a peace summit."
Legate Adventus whirled around shocked. "What?! How do you know of this?"
Rikke grunted out. "There was a meeting behind closed doors. I was present when it was discussed."
Adventus frowned. "Does the General know of this?"
Rikke just nodded stifly. "He will soon."
Kiera raised an eyebrow at the interaction. 'Looks like things aren't as peaceful as I thought in Solitude's court.'
Though Rikke brought up a good point. Meeting the Jarl of Solitude to see what she thinks could only be good. She could take a measure from Elenwen of the Thalmor and General Tullius herself to determine whether or not they will be trouble in the coming conflicts.
They couldn't afford the Thalmor trying anything untoward while they were busy dealing with Alduin and Harkon.
Perhaps a stop to Solitude is in order?
…
4E 202, Whiterun
Balgruuf the Greater
It took months, but the efforts bore fruit.
Systematic, thorough, and at times exhausting, the cleansing of corruption within his court was a bitter but necessary endeavor. The rot had festered longer than he dared to admit, and pulling it out by the root meant casting suspicion upon men he had once dined with, laughed with.
In the end, less than thirty were found guilty of taking bribes or turning blind eyes for coin.
Thirty.
In a hold the size of Whiterun, with eight thousand blades he could call upon in wartime, it was a barely a fraction of the total number,
Balgruuf had expected worse—much worse. The relief that followed was strange and unwelcome, he didn't like being surprised by loyalty. It reminded him how cynical this war had made him.
"Irileth," he had muttered during one late-night strategy meeting, "either we've been fortunate, or the men of Whiterun truly are made of sterner stuff."
She had given her usual sharp nod, but a small smile was on her face. "Perhaps a bit of both. But it's also a testament to your rule, my Jarl."
He hadn't known how to respond to that. He still didn't.
The missive that came a month ago from Ulfric Stormcloak was no easier to handle.
A request. Not a threat. For a summit and invitation to peace, or the illusion of it. A ceasefire until all the threats in Skyrim are dealt with. Balgruuf had chuckled bitterly—Ulfric was many things, but predictable wasn't always one of them.
He would've dismissed it entirely if not for the names written at the bottom in endorsement. Kiera, the Dragonborn. Gerron, the Dragonslayer.
Their involvement changed everything.
The world held its breath when those two came together. With them calling for diplomacy, the legitimacy of the letter skyrocketed. The other Jarls had no choice but to respond. No one dared call the Dragonborn a coward after all her achievements. And no one who'd seen Gerron's prowess in battle questioned his strength.
So now, Balgruuf prepared.
The procession he would lead was modest for a Jarl, but it was necessary. A hundred seasoned guardsmen, Irileth at his right hand, and five of the Companions at his back.
It was not an army, but neither was it a beggar's train.
They would travel fast and light. High Hrothgar was no place for pomp, and the Throat of the World was known to swallow the unworthy whole. The snow alone could kill, to say nothing of the old magic that lingered on those sacred steps.
The heaviest of the winter storms had already passed and much of the snow on the roads had melted at the sight of the first sun's kiss.
They needed to travel quick and light, but a Jarl had no shortage of enemies. A good amount of safety was paramount, especially considering the topic of conversation that would be talked about in the supposed peace summit.
Hrongar and Proventus would rule in his stead. They were both capable and trustworthy, especially with Farengar being able to advise them in any matter that was arcane or dragon related.
Speaking of Farengar, Balgruuf had the court wizard look into the mysterious Whispering Door. His suspicions were confirmed, whatever wards that Farengar had set up long ago had waned, worn thin by time and neglect, and the thing behind the door had begun to speak again.
"It speaks through dreams now," Farengar had warned. "It's reaching further. Hungrier. Whatever it is, I suspect it is Daedric in nature."
Balgruuf sealed the entire wing and had guards stationed there at all times. He was no fool—Daedric power wasn't something he could fight with regular steel.
What worried him most was how much Nelkir had changed,
The boy had turned worse ever since the spy was caught in the kitchens and taken him hostage. As if the whisperings of the door was a drug and the boy had gone into a relapse.
He was always a quiet lad, but lately he had turned more sullen, easier to anger.
Last night, he struck his own sister.
Balgruuf had tried not to raise his voice when he found out. He tried.
The boy had stood there, silent, eyes shadowed and unapologetic. Like something had shifted inside him.
It scared Balgruuf. He had faced many things in his long reign as Jarl, including the madness of war—but nothing had unnerved him like the look in Nelkir's eyes.
The door was poisoning him.
Four times now, Nelkir had been caught trying to sneak back to it. Lydia, the boy's new Housecarl, was tireless in her duty. She reported each attempt with grim efficiency, but even she seemed worried.
Balgruuf had half a mind to send the boy out of Whiterun entirely, to keep distance between him and the door. But where? With dragons and bandits and vampires running about, what place in Skyrim proved safe enough for him to do so?
He would've sent him to the College if the boy had some inkling of magical talent, but alas.
Perhaps a message to the Vigilants of Stendarr would do some good. They are far more experienced in dealing with the matters of Daedra than he is. Wasn't there an agent of the Dawnguard here in the city? Durak, if Balgruuf remembered the name correctly.
An Orc Vampire Hunter who had been running around Whiterun trying to get recruits to join their ancient order. While this might not be a Vampire issue, the Dawnguard worked closely with the Vigilants. They knew Daedra.
At the very least, he might be able to identify which Daedric Prince lay behind that cursed door.
Balgruuf made up his mind.
Before the night fell fully, he would have a rider sent out. Find Durak. Bring him to Dragonsreach.
Whatever it took.
Because when Balgruuf left for High Hrothgar in four days, he needed to know his home wasn't crumbling from the inside out.
…
AN: More of the Daedra are getting involved and we're getting closer and closer to the peace summit. Only a couple more things to wrap up before we head to High Hrothgar.
Serana is blessed by Meridia, taking away her weakness to sunlight entirely. Harkon is also confirmed to be the Champion of Molag Bal. Mephala is getting more and more influential towards Nelkir as the Whispering Door starts acting up.
Also, I'd really appreciate if you guys can do me a solid and leave a review. It would really help with engagement and for motivation.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 60 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!