Prologue: Once Upon a Time

Yes, I used Chatgpt for this too. Listening to "Standing Stones."

Previously: The Undead Rings 

 

Katarinya speaks...

 

Once upon a time, there was a magical place for vampires called "Volkihar". Don't ask me the origin of the name; I haven't the first fucking clue.

Volkihar was a castle where the most elite vampires in all of Tamriel gathered. Royalty, nobility, mages, warriors, and artists of the highest caliber. It was a place where vampires could move in the open and pursue their passions--martial, mystical, artistic, and yes, even erotic.

 

To be accepted at court one only had to be a vampire of talent or beauty. You'd be surprised how hard that is to find; most vampires live in the wild and are driven only by their thirst and lust for the kill.

 

My gift, if you can call it that, was beauty. When I first arrived at Volkihar many, many years ago, I was a rare and singular beauty, such that I was told none compared to me then nor since. I'll admit I can also be charming, which contrary to popular myth, most vampires are not.

 

To be charming and beautiful is a particularly heinous curse, and if you've never been both of those things at the same time, you will never understand. Imagine being showered with unwanted attention and endless demands from the most self-entitled people, night in, night out, with no end in sight. After a few short years, Volkihar the magical, the beautiful, the realm of the free, became my personal prison.

 

How did I escape? As fate would have it, there was another who arrived at court during my time, a mage called Alythia. She too was a great beauty, but she was odd and quiet and like all mages, completely obsessed with her work. Her talent? Illusions.

 

No one knew who sired Alythia nor how old she was. No one knew where she came from. She spoke in the comment accent and said nothing about herself. The only thing we knew was the none could spin an illusion quite like Alythia.

 

Alythia could cast glamours beyond convincing; she could meddle with dreams and memories. Her simplest parlor tricks deceived even the oldest, sharpest minds at Volkihar. But her greatest feat was her most infamous legacy: the Undead Rings.

 

We don't know how long she worked on them or how she even created them--nor how many in all--but one day, Alythia unveiled the impossible: a ring that not only made a vampire appear completely human, but even provided some defense against the sun.

 

I needed no additional convincing. I will admit, I stole a silver ring set with amethyst and left Volkihar straightaway.

 

My escape would have consequences I didn't even try to foresee; Alythia's rings were seized by Harkon, the Lord of Volkihar himself, and she was forbidden from crafting more. Harkon would later occasionally present a ring to only those he deemed most loyal. Furious, Alythia the calm, Alythia the quiet, grew disillusioned with Volkihar, and also left.

 

I didn't know this at the time, of course, and I didn't care. I was free. I traveled all of Tamriel a dozen times over, adopting whatever identity I pleased. I stayed in the finest halls, hosted by the wealthiest of lords and ladies. I wore the finest silks and velvets, and bedded only the most desirable lovers.

 

It was a good life, and I never tired of it. 

 

But fate is a fickle thing, and sins of the past can never be outrun, especially not when you live forever. Centuries after I stole an Undead Ring, my carriage was attacked by vampires in Skyrim, and I was returned to Lord Harkon by force.

 

And it wasn't until that exact moment I finally realized just how badly I wronged Alythia.

 

***

 

To Katarinya's surprise, Volkihar had changed.

 

When she arrived the first time, most of the vampires wore armor or mage robes, and the drabbest of the garb. It was Katarinya's own opulent taste in clothing that had inspired the first fashion renaissance at court, and centuries later, she half-expected them to be wearing whatever she last saw them in. But their silks and velvets were of new and impeccable quality, and their designs were current.

 

And they weren't so enamored of her now as they were before.

 

When the guards brought her into the great hall, they stared at her tensely, almost awkwardly, as though no one wanted to say anything first. And they weren't so in awe of her clothes this time either; after all, many of them were wearing something of equal quality.

She walked the ancient stone halls like one bound for the gallows. The guards said nothing and she didn't need them to; she knew where they were taking her and to whom. And she had a very good idea what he was about to say.

Lord Harkon was as she remembered him: tall, dark, and imposing, with his royal armor and his ever present silver goblet of blood. Her escorts abandoned her as soon as she entered the door to his chambers, and she fleetingly wished they hadn't. 

But then she remembered that there was none in all of Tamriel who could withstand him.

There was a light in his eyes when he saw her; it faded as soon as it formed. His jaw tightened as he appeared to steel himself against her.

Katarinya's face remained neutral even as she noted that. Perhaps I have some leverage here after all.

"Lady Katarinya," he greeted softly, tentatively in his deep voice.

"My lord," she said flatly, eyes downcast.

"Your eyes are red."

She looked up in surprised confusion. "Sire?"

"Where's your ring?" he clarified.

Katarinya tense. "Lost...during my capture."

His lips teased a smirk. "How unfortunate. Knowing humans, they've no doubt found the wreckage by now and looted all your belongings."

She remained silent, mostly because she had no idea what to say that. She could get more nice things easily. But she wasn't sure how to get another Undead Ring.

After a long, tense silence, he finally asked, "Have you nothing to say to me?"

"About?" she bit out, glaring at him.

"You left without saying anything last time," Harkon reminded her.

"I had nothing left to say, my lord," she finally told him. "No more stories, no more jokes, no more songs...no more empty flattery."

His jaw tense again, even as he kept his voice soft. "Is that all we were? Empty?" 

Katarinya's brow furrowed. "What does Your Grace want me to tell you?"

He looked at her incredulously. "The truth, if you're capable of such a thing."

She was resigned to her fate, shoulders sagging. "The truth, sire, is that I wanted to be free. I wanted to do whatever and go wherever I pleased, and I didn't feel I could do that here. You had a wife, and a daughter, and an endless number of volunteers to share your bed. Compared to you," she shrugged, "I had nothing."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, you are right. I have a wife, a beautiful daughter, a new mistress, and even a new fashion expert placed in the very heart of the Blue Palace in Solitude. And you...you have your freedom."

Katarinya's eyes widened, certain she misheard. "My lord?"

"You are free, Lady Katarinya," Harkon repeated. "You can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. None in all of Volkihar will stop you."

You cunt, she blinked. Without her ring, she couldn't move in daylight at all. Without her ring, she would be outed as a vampire on sight.

Without her ring, the safest place in all of Tamriel...was Volkihar.