After four years of total war, hundreds of thousands of dead, entire villages, towns and cities devastated, and both the Empire and Dominion crippled, the scars of the Great War would take decades to heal. However, it didn’t truly end. At least, not in the same way as most other wars throughout Tamriel’s history, but rather the fires of the ‘Great’ Concordat War ran out of fuel to sustain itself. Both the Plithosi of the Dominion and the Imperial Legions were decimated, and after the Battle of the Red Ring neither side had enough living, unwounded soldiers to continue fighting. Only the less reinforced Falanga’s occupying southern Hammerfell remained relatively intact, but they would face an uphill battle against the united factions of the Crowns and Forebears for the coming years. Through treaty and agreements, the war would finally cease in a bloodied stalemate, but without either side being able to comfortably claim victory.
Through the entire war, Titus had led from the front, commanding the Legions just like his ancestor had over a hundred and fifty years before, and in doing so had gained their trust and respect. From the Battle of Skingrad, the Niben campaign, to leading the defence of the Imperial City, he had marched, fought, and bled alongside the Legionaries under his command. He was renowned and glorified, especially for ‘commanding the Legions during the Battle of the Red Ring,’ and ‘personally defeating Lord Naarifin in personal combat. While only a handful knew the full truth of the matter, Kaius knew that his friend, the Emperor, had done much for the Empire and its people during the war. He had proven himself worthy of his ancestry, and would have made his father, and great-great-grandfather proud. The four years of difficult war, and the decade of even more difficult peace that followed had proven Titus’s true strength.
There was a similar strength in many of the Dawnguard that faced Kaius now, all staring in horror at his vampirism and what that meant to face others of his kind, but most were hardening their souls for what was to come. Some would leave, vanishing over the coming days as their fears and terrors got the better of them, but most he believed, would stay.
“Live well, fight until your last breath, and always remember that giving up is what truly kills people. If you die bravely in the service of a righteous cause, death will not be something to fear. Your soul will find its way to Sovngarde, Far Shores and Aetherius to dwell forever alongside heroes like Cyrus the Restless! Ysgrammor! Jurgen Windcaller! The Knights of the Nine, and countless other heroes!”
“Or if you’re lucky, you’ll end up in Oblivion, where all the fun people are!”
Kaius rolled his eyes, struggling not to sigh at Sofia’s sarcastic remark, but managed to remain stoic in front of the arrayed Dawnguard initiates. A couple of them smiled though, despite the tension in the training room, especially the orcs who knew their souls would travel to the Ashpit; the realm of their patron Daedric Prince, Malacath. There was still concern and trepidation, and especially an overabundance of fear among them all, but he could work with that. He had broken them down and removed their misconceptions, and now it was time to raise them up once more by providing them the skills they needed to win against the damned.
"No matter your skill, no matter your experience, forget everything you think you know. From today we begin afresh! My companions and I will teach you everything, starting from the very basics."
Behind him and hearing her cue, Sofia jumped off the table and gleefully strode forward, ignoring the aghast expressions at Kaius's announcement.
"Right! This morning's lesson; how not to stab yourselves!"
The training of the Dawnguard under Kaius’s and his companions’ watchful gaze would be unlike anything the recruits would have ever experienced before. For the coming weeks they would be tested and terrified, but they soon learned more about killing vampires than what they would have after ten years of hunting. With Kaius not holding back his true nature and relying on his skills and Thu’um to stay alive, the training was as close as the hunters could get to the real thing. Every hesitation was punished, anytime one of the recruits held back from a killing blow they would quickly regret it, and for almost two whole months until the depths of winter covered the land in a blanket of snow they trained and learned from a creature whose kind they would be expected to face.
For some of the recruits their fear and terror was too much for them, and they left the Dawnguard in various ways. Some vanished during the night, the knowledge of exactly what they were expected to face too much to handle. Others admitted their weakness and left during the light of the day, bidding farewell and good luck to the others, but many more remained. Between Kaius teaching and showing what vampires were capable of, and Sofia and Lydia’s mortal perspectives, it wouldn’t be long before those who had chosen to stay would reach a point where they could go on successful hunts.
Increasingly, their skill was improving to the extent where Kaius would retire for the day covered in increasing numbers and amounts of injuries. Most cuts and scratches with a handful of bruises from his trainees weapons, but they were giving him confidence that their plan was working. He knew that while his skills and abilities, especially the Thu'um, was still proof enough against the Dawnguard, the improving skills of the recruits and the hunters would be more than enough to deal with a majority of the Volkihar and other vampires.
Harkon was still going to be a dangerous threat, and Kaius wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with that particular problem. When he had returned Serana to Castle Volkihar, seeing the numbers and the overwhelming power of the higher ranking members of the clan, he knew that Harkon was beyond his abilities. A Child of Coldharbour was beyond anything that he had ever encountered, and was giving him the same measure of concerns as he once had, almost two centuries before, when he had to face down a demigoddess. This time, he was determined not to get involved with any daedra. Especially Sanguine. He wasn’t going to give that bastard the satisfaction.
Concerns and fears for the future, especially the true threat that he knew was growing nearer every day were niggling away at the back of his mind, but despite the occasions where Isran would once again try to kill him, the routine was almost pleasant at the fortress. The recruits were improving considerably, he had regained communication with Delphine and Esbern and enlisted their aid in tracking down a means to defeat Alduin and between the Dragons, the Stormcloaks and the vampires, the Aldmeri Dominion were keeping their heads low. Things were going well, which is why he was confused when Celann and a handful of Dawnguard had interrupted a training session one morning with the statement “Isran wants the suckhead.”
Not once in the weeks since his arrival had Isran bothered to seek out or have any interactions with him that weren’t incredibly hostile, and an order, rather than a request, was highly unusual. Unusual enough that Kaius obliged the half dozen fully armed and armoured Dawnguard, their crossbows loaded and ready.
Through abandoned halls and past dust filled rooms, the group led him deeper into the fortress, into the depths where many of the order never went. The fortress was dug deep into the side of Dayspring Canyon, into the bones of the mountains themselves and in the darker portions were places that Kaius knew was the prison where the fortress began its life. Wariness was growing, and it only increased as they came to one of the larger cells, gesturing for him to enter.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Kaius’s senses allowed him to know that there were others already present in the cell, Isran included, he might have resisted, but instead he smiled at his escorts, and stepped through the open bars without any hesitation. There was a sense of fear emanating from within. Fear, and an anxious energy that surprisingly had nothing to do with his presence, and immediately Kaius was on edge as Isran was also uncharacteristically nervous. To anyone else it would have been imperceptible, but there would have been very few people who wouldn’t have been uneasy in such a place and by what it now contained.
A handful of chairs, a single table and ancient, rusted chains and restraints lined the walls, the dust and decay of centuries visible, but in the centre of the room, gleaming the purest gold, was a physical impossibility. As long as his forearm, covered in gleaming, unidentifiable gemstones was an Elder Scroll, humming against reality with an inaudible tune that was felt rather than heard. Even for an Order that specialised in combatting the worst horrors in existence, it was truly telling that all of those present were preferring to stand close to an individual seated on a chair against the back wall, than to move even a centimetre closer to the Scroll.
Kaius didn’t blame them at all for not wanting to be in the same province as one of the shards of Reality. During his time living in White-Gold and mentoring the Mede Dynasty, he had been living within the levels below the Imperial Library, and the uncountable numbers of scrolls it had once contained. They were a different kind of strange; fragments of time and space and of a power that almost hurt to be nearby. It was especially telling, although not all that surprising, that several of them had instead put themselves dangerously close to the prison cell’s newest occupant; a woman with black hair and a pair of fangs visible under her lips.
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Choosing for the moment to ignore her presence and that of the Elder Scroll, Kaius grinned, looking over and meeting Isran’s gaze. It was almost routine that the two of them antagonized each other, as it was for Kaius to conduct training for the junior members of the Dawnguard, and he never missed an opportunity to needle the humourless vampire hunter.
“What’s the occasion Isran? A bit of mild torture perhaps? I could use a good stretch to relieve the tension in my spine.”
There was anger, as there always was in Isran’s expression, but the fact that he didn’t take the bait showed just how unsettled he was. There was no other sign of it though, his expression was his habitual scowl and his heart rate hadn’t changed, but he was definitely rattled.
“This… thing… Showed up at the gates this morning asking for you. Brought that with it.” Isran’s gesture to the Elder Scroll was telling in itself, as neither he nor the half dozen Dawnguard in the room even wanted to look at it. “Says it's got something really important to tell us.”
For once, Kaius wasn’t slightly annoyed at Isran’s tone or the threat of violence in their immediate future. He understood Isran’s hatred for vampires, and ninety nine times out of a hundred he was entirely justified in such hatred. Kaius had extensive experience with his own kind, and the number of vampires that hadn’t immediately tried to kill him were countable on a single hand. One of which, included their new arrival.
It had been almost nine months since the journey to Castle Volkihar and Kaius’s encounter with one of the first vampires in existence, and those months appeared to have been very difficult on Serana. For a moment he wondered whether Isran and the Dawnguard had resorted to torture since her arrival, before realising that Serana’s state was not of their doing. Isran wasn’t one for conducting or ordering such acts. He might have hated vampires with a burning passion seconded only to the Daedric Prince Meridia, but he constantly strove to be better than the monsters they hunted.
Serana was a pale shadow of the young appearing, rejuvenated woman that he had been forced to leave behind with her father. Her hair was a mess, unwashed, filled with burrs and tangles, and showed signs of laying in the dirt and grass in the recent past, as did her clothes. The sheer number of holes were more than enough to show her journey from one side of Skyrim to the other, and not a single centimetre of her body or tattered clothing wasn’t covered with dirt, grime, and road dust. Everything about her was ragged, right down to the way that her boots were mere days away from falling apart entirely. About the only thing that was properly covering her modesty was the tattered and threadbare cloak that Kaius recognised as being the one he had gifted to her in their journey into Hjallmarch.
What was most telling though was how skinny, thin and malnourished she was, and not just from a lack of food. The bones of her face were pressing against taut skin, incisors lengthened to fangs, and he knew all too well what a vampire who had gone for days without feeding looked like. Just the mere fact that she was sitting there as calmly as she was, while surrounded by potential sources of satiating the cravings, showed there was a strength of will within her that very few vampires had. In fact, he would have been more surprised if Isran hadn’t arranged for this number of… ‘distractions’ in the hope that she attempted something stupid.
"Hall?." Said Serana in her ancient accent, not attempting to rise at all from her seat. Her expression as she looked at Kaius was a mixture of relief from his presence, and unease at her surroundings. "You probably weren't expecting to see me again..."
Whatever she had been through was certainly rough, and the sheer relief and exhaustion in her tone was evident, even to the Dawnguard occupying the room with her. Even for one with as pale skin as hers, her eyes were sunken and surrounded by deep shadows of someone who hadn’t slept properly in weeks, if not longer.
“Hello to you too, Serana.”
“This… is the vampire from Dimhollow?”
“Yes.” Kaius nodded to Isran’s question, glancing between him and the vampiress who seemed to sag into the chair at the way he had recognised her. “This is a hell of a long way from your home. Just what are you doing here?”
“Looking for you and the Dawnguard.” Deep within her eyes, the flames of her vampirism were glowing a fiery red like a pool of blood illuminated by moonlight. “I needed to talk to you. It’s important, so please just listen, before tall, dark and gloomy, loses his patience.”
The sarcastic quip was not lost on any of them, more than one of the guards struggling not to show any sign of amusement, while Isran merely scowled deeper.
“What could possibly be so important that you come all this way, let alone, to us?”
“It’s... well, it's about me. And that Elder Scroll that was buried with me."
As she gestured to the golden artifact, more than one of the assembled Dawnguard tried to convince themselves that it hadn’t somehow moved or turned slightly while they weren’t looking. However, they all were listening silently and waiting for her to continue, Isran and Kaius included.
“About you? How so?”
“It all comes back to my father. I don’t know how much you all know about my br?d and I, but a long time ago my parents were Konungur and Drottning of Haarngard.”
“King and Queen? Of Haarngard? Never heard of any hold called Haarngard.”
“You wouldn’t have.” Despite herself, Serana’s accent was thick and it was obvious that she was struggling for the moment to find the right words to translate her native tongue into common. “As far as I have been able to learn, Haarngard has been part of Haafingar under Solitude’s rule since High-King Olaf’s conquests. That whole damned war of succession is what led us to all this. Haafingar conquered my F?der’s kingdom and claimed it for their own, and in amongst it all he stumbled onto an obscure prophecy and lost himself to it.”
“A prophecy? What sort of prophecy?”
“A pointless and vague one, just like most prophecies, but this one came from an Elder Scroll. That, Elder Scroll to be precise.” Again, a strange shiver seemed to course through the artifact as Serana mentioned it again despite it not moving in the slightest. “The part he latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That's what he's after. He wants to control the sun, and have vampires control the world."
“That sounds… Insane. Even for vampire standards.”
The momentary expression that crossed Isran’s face at Kaius’s words was so fleeting that it almost didn’t exist at all, a measure of agreement and surprise that the two of them shared something in common before he reasserted himself.
“Well, you have met him, so you shouldn’t be all that surprised. When he discovered the prophecy he became absorbed... obsessed. It was kind of sick, actually. The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun, and that a time would come where a means to cover the world in eternal darkness would be discovered. For someone who had ruled as a King during the time of the first Empires I guess the idea was really seductive. My mother though disagreed. She didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was hidden and sealed away with the Scroll."
“But why tell us this? Why would you come here, of all places?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that you and the Dawnguard were vampire hunters.” Frustration and stress bubbled to the surface and Serana’s face grew more animalistic and dangerous as she snapped at Isran. More than one crossbow creaked as their wielders tightened their grips at her changes. “I thought they might want to know about a vampire plot to enslave the world, or otherwise destroy it? I didn’t come all this way, living off r?ttor and mys and sleeping in holes in the ground because I thought it was going to be fun!"
Her voice had deepened, becoming more guttural and much, much more vampiric to such an extent that her fingernails had lengthened into claws as long as throwing daggers. This time it was more than just the guards who had readied their weapons, and Isran’s hand had come to rest on a pot of powdered silver in preparation.
“Serana. It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not alright. Harkon,” The sheer amount of venom that Serana injected into her father’s name, was almost more concerning than the way that she seemed on the cusp of completely losing control. “seeks to fulfill the prophecy, and take control of the sun, plunging the world into eternal night. I stole the scroll, escaped the castle, and have spent months evading those he has sent after me. Tamriel needs your help. I, need your help. My father threatens everyone and everything, and I believe that only you and the Dawnguard can stop him.”
Glancing for a moment at the Scroll sitting on the table as though it was watching and listening to the conversation, Kaius felt his stomach churn. A prophecy to extinguish the sun... Yet another damned prophecy from an Elder Scroll that Kaius already knew was going to fall to him to put a stop to. The weight of it pressed down on his shoulders and he sighed loud enough to draw the surprised attention of all those in the room, Isran included.
“Fuck…”
Understanding the Past. No more alternating flashback scenes from here on, but there are two more flashbacks scattered in the 82 chapters that are left for this series. And they are spaced out so it should be much less of an issue.
Blood of Dragons got within 6 positions of hitting RS Main before it started the slide down into oblivion, which for a non-meta, fanfic of a comparatively niche fandom is a hell of an achievement and not one I expected!
