4E 201, Darkwater Pass
Kiera Fendalyn
How many did that make? Four? Five?
No, it was five. Alduin, Vermithor, Caraxes, and the two from the Western Watchtower.
Five dragons that she had met a few months into her time in Skyrim. What a truly adventurous land.
And it was not just them. Skyrim was home to a whole bunch of creatures and beasts that Kiera now had the pleasure to slay.
Sinking her blade into the Falmer in front of her, she wondered what other crazy beasts and monsters call these lands home. She's heard that giants and their wooly mammoths could be found all over Skyrim in their small camps, but she hasn't seen one as of yet.
After killing Caraxes, they looted Nilheim towers, which told them plenty regarding the previous people who camped there before Caraxes decided to use it as a roosting spot..
Tools and weapons clearly stolen from the local villages, pouches and chests filled with a decent amount of gold, even some pots and pans that they wanted to fence to the Thieves Guild in Riften.
Any sympathy Kiera had for them disappeared and they simply harvested the bones and scales from the dragon, some food found in sacks and the kitchens,and stored them all in Gerron's odd storage space.
To this day, she didn't fully understand how it worked. Gerron had explained it once while she and Serana bombarded him with questions, both women intrigued by the spell's potential. The answer was… strange. According to Gerron, his spell allowed him to store non-living objects in a pocket dimension that served as a stasis field, locking them in time. A loaf of bread would remain eternally fresh. A broken sword would stay broken. A potion would never spoil.
Kiera had immediately imagined the implications. A walking, talking fortress of supplies. An infinite rucksack. An army logistician's dream. She almost felt sorry for the Empire and Stormcloaks—almost—because whichever side didn't get Gerron would be at a severe disadvantage.
She was immensely glad he chose to not take sides.
Nightfall came quickly as they continued down the road, the sky a veil of black velvet streaked with stars.
It was already late at night when they arrived at the crossing where they're supposed to split up, as the branch that led further east would take them to Shor's Stone. Kiera's journey involved the branch of road—which was more of a well-traveled dirt path really—that winded south west, which would lead her to Ivarstead.
They decided to camp in the crossing and continue on their journey tomorrow. Gerron had found a good cave a stone's throw away that would serve as a good camp spot.
According to Gerron, the cave was called the Darkwater Pass. Kiera remembered Ralof telling her that he and the Stormcloaks were ambushed on the roads near Darkwater Crossing when they got captured by the Empire and led to Helgen. It must've been around here somewhere.
Gerron had sent Bronze ahead to scout the interior, and came back with news that the cave was apparently a falmer nest.
Kiera and Serana had merely shrugged, and they went forward for a purge.
The falmer weren't that powerful as warriors. The problem was that they fought like a swarm as they just kept coming and coming with no regard for their felled companions. Gerron of course just took it as a challenge as he let out a boisterous laugh, charging towards the swarm and swinging his hammer with reckless abandon. He had no worries since the falmer couldn't even hope to pierce through his ebony armor.
The relatively tight space disallowed Serana to merely bury them in mountains of ice. So the vampire switched seamlessly to lightning. Arcs of blue danced across the caves, alighting the interior as they bounced from Falmer to Falmer in a chain succession.
Kiera shook her head with a smile before following her companions, her sword slicing through falmer flesh. Each swing felled another of the former snow elves, leaving screeches as they died unceremoniously. And then came the chaurus—the oversized insect-pets of the Falmer. Tougher, more dangerous. Acid dripped from their fangs and hissed on stone. But still, nothing the trio couldn't handle.
It didn't take long for them to finish off the falmer, the three of them relatively unharmed as Falmer and chaurus corpses littered the cave floor.
Thankfully, they were spared from the indignation of cleaning all their bodies when Serana simply raised all the dead and had them all march out of the cave before turning into dust. Kiera didn't really like necromancy, but she could certainly admit to its uses after seeing that.
Once it was clean of all corpses, they could finally see the cave in its entirety. It wasn't terribly large, used as a tomb of some kind as several chests and burial urns could be found throughout.
Shrugging her shoulders, she approached one of the random chests in the corner. She was no Priest of Arkay and had no qualms in looting them to gain more supplies for the road ahead. She frowned when she propped it open. There was a crystal orb inside, though looking slightly crooked as every side was flattened and reflecting some kind of odd light.
She went to grab it, and—
"A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON—"
"Oh, by Stendarr's holy light," she hissed, clutching the side of her head. "What now?"
The so-called "beacon" pulsed once with light.
Of course. Of course this would happen.
She had just wanted a place to sleep.
…
Serana
She was just studying some inscriptions on a burial urn when all of a sudden, the interior of the cave was engulfed by light.
Her instincts kicked in immediately—she pivoted on her heel, a frost spell half-formed in her hand, but the light didn't come from an enemy. It came from Kiera.
Or rather, the object in her hand.
Serana's eyes narrowed, adjusting to the radiant glow. She spotted Kiera standing frozen, the strange crystalline orb still clutched in her palm. Her eyes widened as she recognized what it was. Gerron was beside her, his hammer already in hand.
Then, from the light, she emerged.
Outlined in glorious, near-painful golden radiance, the shape of a woman hovered above the cavern floor, her voice echoing like it came from the skies themselves.
"Yes, it seems you are fit to be my champion, Kiera Fendalyn. A follower of the Divines, bane of all undead."
Serana stiffened. Her lips parted in both awe and wariness.
"Meridia…" she whispered, heart pounding. "The Daedric Prince of Life and Energy."
"You are tainted, Daughter of Coldharbour. I should command that you be destroyed for what you are, vampire spawn! But I shall permit your survival should you aid my new champion in her endeavours."
Serana bristled at the insult. Tainted. Oh she hated that word. It wasn't the first time someone had said it, and it wouldn't be the last. Still, she bit back the instinct to respond. Instead, she caught Gerron's eye and subtly shook her head. He was tense, muscles coiled like a spring, his grip tightening on his hammer. Antagonizing a Daedric Prince was suicidal, no matter how righteous the cause.
"Wait, hold on!" Kiera interrupted. "What do you mean by champion?"
"Molag Bal, that fiend, has chosen himself a champion. Even now, his brood walks the lands with no fear. The foul stench of undeath has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. I charge you with this task. Return my beacon to Mount Kilkreath and cleanse it of the corruption. In return, I shall grant you my aid against your enemies, whether they be dragon… or Daedra."
The light dimmed all at once and they were once more left standing in the quiet of the cave. Only the faint drip of water and their own stunned breaths filled the silence.
Kiera stared at the beacon in her hand, her brow furrowed in disbelief.
"A real Daedric Prince…" Gerron said after a long pause, lowering his hammer. "I never thought I'd witness such a thing."
"Should I do what she asked?" Kiera asked, hesitantly. "Can I even trust her words?"
"Ignoring Meridia would be a foolish thing to do, Kiera. Having a Daedric Prince as an enemy is worse than having my father hunting you down." she answered. "On the other hand, Meridia despises undead above any other, it's why she dislikes me so much."
She took a breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Still, if she's offering aid—against Molag Bal, no less—then I'd consider taking her up on it. Her power may prove vital if we're to stand a chance."
"But this 'champion of Molag Bal' thing… That sounds like a problem that'll come knocking soon enough." Gerron muttered, shaking his head. "It's one thing after another. Just put it on the list and we'll get to it soon enough."
He sighed, turning toward the far corner of the cavern they cleared. "Let's get some sleep first. Divines know we earned it."
…
The night wore on quietly, and though sleep came quickly for Gerron with his familiar deep, rumbling snores, Serana's rest was more troubled. Her thoughts tangled with memories of Coldharbour and the sting in Meridia's words. Tainted.
She stirred when she felt the breeze. Opening her eyes, she found Kiera gone from her bedroll.
Rising without a sound, Serana followed the faint draft until she reached the mouth of the cave. There, sitting beneath the stars and leaning slightly on a rocky ledge, was Kiera.
She looked so small beneath the vast expanse of the sky, the Beacon faintly glowing at her side like a captured star.
"Are you alright?" Serana asked gently.
Kiera turned, slightly startled, then relaxed. "Yeah… I'm okay. Just thinking."
"My mother often told me that thoughts are easier to carry if you have someone to share it with." Serana moved to sit beside her, putting her knees close to her chest as she withdrew a potion of blood from her satchel, given to her by Gerron.
According to the larger man, he had stumbled into a coven of vampires that were experimenting a way to create potions to increase a vampire's innate abilities. She was quite intrigued about the idea and had plans to do her own research once they arrived in that college of magic he told her about.
However, it was very clear that the current version of the potion would only work for lesser vampires, making them addicted. To a pure-blooded vampire like Serana, they merely served as a delicious source of blood. It certainly helped since she was observant enough to notice that Kiera was a bit uncomfortable whenever she fed on living people, even if they were bandits.
Kiera chuckled, the sound short and dry. "I suppose that's true. I just… I was raised in the Hall of the Vigilants. We were taught that the Daedra were the enemies of man. Monsters in disguise. Meridia might be one of the 'good' ones, but she's still a Daedric Prince. Seeing her… speaking to her—it's like watching a myth step out of a story."
"I get it." Serana chuckled. "Reality is quite often different from the stories or lessons we hear about growing up. I grew up idolizing my father, thinking him the grandest and most loving father to ever exist. Who would ever think that his ambitions proved to be bigger than the love he bore for his wife and daughter."
Kiera turned to her, eyes quietly searching. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"…What does it mean to be a Daughter of Coldharbour?"
Serana looked away. Her jaw clenched for a moment before she spoke, voice low. "There's a ritual. A… violation, really. Molag Bal forces it on mortals he deems 'worthy.' It's how he creates pure-blooded vampires. My mother and I… we were volunteered by my father. For the power. For the promises."
She hesitated.
"I don't remember much of it. I choose not to. But what I do recall… was pain. And fire. And a feeling of something sacred being torn away."
Kiera didn't speak immediately, and Serana didn't expect her to. She'd laid bare something raw and ugly.
But then she felt a hand gently settle atop hers.
She looked over and saw Kiera's eyes—not judging, not pitying, but steady.
By the end of it, it was as if a weight was lifted from her chest. She didn't really know what it was about Kiera and Gerron, but she found herself lowering the walls that she had set up slowly but surely.
They were certainly kind hearted people. Strong too, judging from the things she had seen. She knew without a doubt that they would never betray her, that they wouldn't run. Call her naive or foolish, but after spending centuries of her life in slumber, was it so wrong to seek companionship?
"…Thank you for telling me," Kiera said. "For trusting me."
Serana gave her a small smile.
…
AN: Meridia is one of the more fun Daedric Princes. I swear her whole shtick of her announcing her presence whenever someone touched her beacon is just her being a huge troll.
Some bonding time between Kiera and Serana. By the time this is all over, they'll be the best of besties.
Until now, there still isn't any confirmation just what the ritual to make a Daughter of Coldharbour entails. Though I'm quite confident everyone in the fandom agreed exactly what happened. It takes a special kind of bravery to be honest about something like that.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 35 should be available by the time this chapter was posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!