4E 202, Battlefield outside of Labyrinthian
Serana Volkihar
She was in the middle of purging her father's blood from within her when she heard it.
A voice she hadn't heard for so long.
A voice she had feared… and missed.
"Daughter of Coldharbour."
Her breath caught as the world stilled around her. The sounds of the battlefield seemed to quiet as everything was frozen in time.
"Months have passed since I gave you my blessing, and time for you to awaken has come. Your father, the Champion of Molag Bal, spreads a foulness that stains this land. Undeath… your kind… walks these fields. Cleanse them, Serana Volkihar. Awaken now… as my Champion."
Serana gasped as something ignited inside her veins. Light, cold, and fire. All at once.
Her eyes burned a brilliant white, burning clean through the darkness conjured by her father.
Her feet lifted inches from the ruined ground as her heart—which had been dead for centuries—felt like it clenched in a phantom beat.
In her peripheral vision, she saw them freeze mid-clash. Gerron, Isran, Harkon.
She didn't think. She just lifted her hand.
Lightning, white-hot and star-bright, roared from her fingers, so fast even Harkon barely acknowledged it before it hit.
The beam smashed into his chest, searing a clean hole through armor and flesh before the blast hurled him across the field.
He hit the side of a mountain hard enough to crack it.
"Woah, what the hell happened to you?" Gerron blinked as she regarded Serana's new form.
"I'm guessing Meridia finally got over the fact that Serana's a vamp." Isran muttered.
"Oh, so she's racist." Gerron concluded.
Serana deadpanned, internally.
Meridia's voice snapped into her skull like a furious whisper. "Tell those bums I am NOT racist. The undead ARE a blight that needs purging. Zenithar and Stendarr can go fu—"
Serana turned the connection off immediately.
Gods, the drama between the divine felt more petty than she expected.
A blast of rubble jolted them back as Harkon rose, steam curling off half-healed wounds.
His healing was slower. Much slower.
And for the first time, he looked angry.
The noble visage that he hid behind had fully melted away, his face set into a fierce scowl. The arrogance and hubris that came from being a Vampire Lord was no longer there.
"Looks like you two are the secret weapons to kill him," Gerron said, stepping forward with Spellbreaker sword and shield raised. "I'll take point, you two go for the killshot when you can find it."
"Got it," Serana said.
Harkon didn't give them anymore time to speak as his body blurred. One moment a man, the next a violent explosion of bats, swirling like a living storm around Gerron,
Their wings cut like knives, slashing across armor seams, searching for weakness.
Gerron raised the Spell Shield, the golden barrier flaring as it deflected dozens of shadow-bats instantly.
Serana lifted her hand and called lightning again, this time white-gold with Meridia's light intertwining, a helix of holy storm.
She fired as the bolt ripped through the swarm, shredding bats into smoke.
The bats let out a collective hiss as Harkon reformed behind her, half his body melting into black mist.
Serana spun to meet him, deflecting the Umbral Sword with her armguard so it stabbed her shoulder rather than her chest.
She could feel his blood magic pulsing, trying to invade her body once more to try to manipulate her magic.
Her vision whitened for a heartbeat, and Meridia's blessing flared as the dark blood evaporated instantly.
Harkon sneered. "So even the Lady of Light is capable of pushing away her hatred for our kind. You are a disgrace, Serana."
"You don't get to touch me anymore," Serana said coldly.
Isran charged from the side, summoning a warhammer made entirely of Stendarr's light, burning gold and sun-hot.
He slammed it into Harkon's ribs, hearing a bone crack as the ancient vampire was launched back once more.
Gerron was right there instantly, appearing in the way of trajectory to cleave Harkon in two with his sword.
But before he could, Harkon recovered and landed on his feet. He swept a hand in Gerron's direction, a wave of shadow rushing forward, the edges of it curling like living smoke.
Gerron hurled the Spell Shield forward. It expanded mid-air, spinning like a disc of force. The shadow magic crashed against it and evaporated as Gerron lifted a hand, the shield snapping back onto the vambrace of his arm.
Serana unleashed another lightning bolt, hitting Harkon straight in the chest that pushed him back, creating furrows on the ground.
"You worms are starting to annoy me!" Harkon snarled as he brandished both the Umbral Sword and mace of Molag Bal. Dark malevolent magic coalesced on both weapons before he swung forward, launching a titanic arc of darkness that carved a massive trench on the ground.
Gerron met it head on, swinging the Spellbreaker sword and cleaving the darkness in two, his sword breaking apart the magic.
Serana swung her hand, her palm outwards. From each finger came a long streak of lightning that formed miniature beams of white sparks.
Just as it neared impact, Harkon burst into bats again, dodging.
Isran anticipated it, slashing with a blade of light that extended from his palm.
He cut the swarm, severing shapes of dark energy.
Harkon reformed above him with the mace in hand, dripping black.
Isran conjured a spear of light at the same time, swinging upwards and piercing her father straight in the chest as the mace smashed his side and sent him skidding across the battlefield.
"Isran!" Gerron shouted.
"I'm fine!" Isran growled through gritted teeth as he stood.
Though Serana regarded the successful attack. Her father was crouched there, the wound in his chest not healing.
His eyes shifted then, his irises glowing. Bony wings burst out of his back as he began the transformation.
"No!" she exclaimed as she unleashed the quickest lightning bolt she could.
It hit, but couldn't stop what was coming as Harkon stood there in his Vampire Lord form. Sharp, jagged teeth visible from the snarl as his skin turned an ashen grey.
"Is that–"
"The true form of us Vampire Lords." Serana affirmed.
He began to inhale before unleashing a vortex of frost, like the breath of an ancient frost dragon.
Gerron slammed his shield down, bracing behind it.
The Spell Shield glowed, enormous, protecting Serana and Isran too as the blizzard tore across the field.
It was seconds of frost, but felt like minutes as they continued to huddle down. When the frost cleared, everything around them was covered in thin sheets of ice, snow in all directions.
It was a good thing their fight had brought them a good distance from the battlefield. Otherwise, their entire army might have been buried under thick snow.
Yet despite the lingering chill emanating in the air, Gerron seemed unbothered.
Serana and Isran didn't share that sentiment. Despite her natural resilience to the cold, the ones that her father could conjure seemed capable of piercing through it.
She could feel the lethargy that came from fighting with such low temperatures like this. And if she was bothered by it, Isran must have it a lot worse.
The next bout of combat began when Gerron launched himself towards the changed Harkon, his sword clashing with the Mace of Molag Bal, shockwaves being created from each impact.
Spectral bats formed in the air before flying towards the fight, Gerron knowing what to do as he disengaged at the very last second, allowing her to ignite them each bat exploded and covered Harkon's form in smoke.
An inhuman roar echoed through the air that dispersed the smoke. Harkon's body was riddled with burns that weren't healing. The stab wound on his chest from Isran earlier was still there, a mark Harkon will carry for eternity.
His baleful crimson red eyes met hers as he launched himself at Serana.
She moved to counter, but he was faster than her in this form.
A tendril of crimson blood extended from his palm, turning into a hardened spike.
It stabbed straight through her stomach and came out the other side.
Gerron shouted her name and Isran released a curse.
But Serana simply looked down at the spike, exhaled, and blinked up at Harkon.
Meridian white light filled her wound that evaporated the spike of blood, and her wound was healed almost instantly.
Harkon froze. "…no…"
"Did you forget that my blood is even purer than yours, father?" she whispered.
Her hand came up and she unleashed a radiant frost explosion, pale and white-gold, directly into his torso.
Harkon flew back so hard he smashed through the side of a mountain.
All across the battlefield, warriors turned at the scale of the battle they had just participated in.
Vilkas had just cleaved a death hound in two with Wuuthrad when he shook his head. "So that is what a fight between Champions would look like…"
Gerron approached her, a worried look in his face. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "With Meridia's blessing, my healing is now better than even his. I won't die so easily."
A rueful chuckle came out his mouth. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Focus, you damn lovebirds." Isran grunted through panting breaths. "Bastard's still alive."
They turned to see Harkon staggering to his feet. Panting, burned, frostbitten, and wounded.
He tried to summon more blood magic, his hands shaking with strain, until it flickered and it splat across the ground.
It failed.
Serana didn't know why it failed, though she had an inkling.
Molag Bal was the Daedric Prince of Domination. His strength grows the more souls he reaps using the Mace of Molag Bal.
Harkon had spent over a year being his Champion, gaining more and more power the more he subjugated and oppressed his foes.
Yet now, he was met with an enemy that he couldn't dominate. He continued to burn away his power and magicka, thinking that it will never run out.
And now it did. Serana can't help but feel the twinge of satisfaction at seeing her father brought low.
All three of them tensed and prepared as Harkon let out another inhuman roar, charging Gerron in desperation.
Gerron met him head on once more, Spellbreaker sword and the Mace of Molag Bal clashed as arcane light met the blackness of shadow.
Harkon struck wildly, his eyes crazed. "No, my Lord! I can still fight! I can still prove to you–!"
Gerron silenced him by slamming his shield at Harkon's throat.
There was no longer elegance in his fighting style. Just the sheer desperation of a beast wanting to survive.
He was clawing, biting, and fighting with reckless abandon.
Gerron—the disciplined warrior that he was—seized the opening. He ducked under a flailing hand and moved behind Harkon.
A single swing and he severed one of the skeletal wings by the bone.
A scream of pain came out of her father's mouth. Gerron followed it up with a low sweep, cutting both legs right at the knee.
Just as Harkon was about to fall, Gerron angled his shield, hooked his arm around Harkon's neck, and slammed him down with sheer physical strength, shattering the ground beneath them.
Harkon thrashed violently, his remaining wing beating, his claws raking armor, but Gerron held on, muscles straining, roaring as he pinned the Vampire Lord down.
"DO IT!" he screamed.
Isran and Serana moved in tandem.
The old Dawnguard leader drew in a deep breath and summoned every drop of Stendarr's wrath from within.
Serana lifted both hands, her magic burning with Meridia's light, her hand crackling white and storm-bright.
Their lights intertwined, gold and white spiraling into one blinding point between their palms.
Harkon screamed.
The air cracked.
The spell detonated.
A beam of pure daylight and holy storm tore through Harkon's body, vaporizing flesh, shadow, and soul.
His body disintegrated in a flare brighter than the sun.
When the light faded, all that was left was the Umbral Sword and the Mace of Molag Bal, both clattering towards the ground.
…
AN: Despite this chapter being just one POV, I felt like I needed to end it here. The whole ending fight with Harkon took a lot out of me, and I'm not quite sure how good it ended up.
I might have overdone it in some places, and perhaps underdone it in some others.
But after numerous times writing and deleting the same sentence over and over again, I deemed this good enough.
With the death of Harkon, we're actually nearing the completion of the fic, believe it or not. There should be less than thirty chapters remaining, if I'm counting it right.
Then again, thirty chapters is still quite a lot, and a lot of things could change by then.
I hope you guys enjoyed it thus far, this has been a blast to write.
More chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 93 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name, TeemVizzle, and you'll find me.
Cheers guys and see you next time!