Chapter 7: The Redeemer

Previously: Covens

 

"Torvald of Heljarchen?"

 

Torvald looked up from his tankard of mead. A weary Nord with gray hair and a sinewy body, he studied the stranger carefully, wondering why a Redguard mage knew his name.

 

"And you are?" he asked.

 

"Falion of Morthal," the mage introduced himself, lightly touching his chest and bowing his head slightly. He wore long flowing blue robes with a hood.

 

At the word "Morthal", Torvald's eyes widened. His voice trembled when he spoke. "If you've come to tell me about my daughter, I already know." 

 

"She's on her way here," Falion told him, taking a seat opposite him and waving the innkeeper over.

 

Torvald gripped his tankard so tightly the knuckles of his weathered hand turned white. "Whatever for?"

 

"So I can cure her," Falion replied kindly. He turned to Hadring. "I'll have what he's having."

 

"You can do that?" Torvald gasped, tears stinging in his eyes.

 

 "I can," Falion assured him, nodding. "But I wanted to speak with you before she arrived, to lessen the shock, and invite you to attend the ritual."

 

Torvald stiffened. "I can't afford to pay you."

 

"That's the... other matter I wished to discuss. You see, someone else has agreed to cover the fee, and if they are who I think they are, that might cause a bit of a shock as well." 

 

*** 

 

It took two full nights of walking to reach Heljarchen. They stayed off the main roads, cutting through forests. By day they slept in whatever cave they could find and clear out. They fed off animals and steered clear of all travelers.

Alva thought reliving her initial journey might trigger some sort of anxiety, but instead, she felt calm. Leila and her vampire companions had that effect on her. For despite being vampires, they still seemed so... human.

 

She would make a great coven leader, Alva mused, though she didn't dare say that aloud. Vampires would gladly lay down their lives for her.

 

She suddenly wondered if that's how the problem always started, with a vampire who was too beautiful, too charismatic for their own good. But then Alva reasoned there had to be another element at play, something deeper within a being’s nature. Leila was clearly centuries old, even if she didn't outright admit it. And yet after surviving this long and even spending time at Volkihar, she had somehow managed to retain her soul.

 

Meanwhile, Movarth was likely a predator before he was sired. After all, he was originally a vampire hunter. He once told Alva stories of the brutal, heartless ways he liked to kill the undead. She wondered if he was like that with women and girls too, cold and ruthlessly selfish. Perhaps becoming a hunter and later a vampire only made it worse.

 

It was snowing in Heljarchen when they arrived, hours before dawn. The tiny village was perched on a hill, with Nightgate Inn looming above it.

 

Leila heard Alva gasp and turned to see her staring upward in awe.

 

"I'd forgotten," the young vampire murmured. "I'd forgotten how beautiful it looks in the snow."

 

"You were born here?" Aurelian asked.

 

Alva nodded silently, as though spellbound. "Lived here all my life."

 

"And Movarth never allowed you to return after you were sired?" Aurelian asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Alva shook her head. "He made it sound like I wouldn't want to."

 

Leila snorted. "Classic coven manipulation. We should get inside. The dawn is coming."

 

Judging by his lack of surprise when she walked through the door, Alva could tell Hadring had already been briefed on their arrival. He was, however, still unsettled, his eyes flitting back and forth between her and her companions.

 

"Your father's expecting you," he said lowly, his whole body still, as though he were afraid to make any sudden movements.

 

Aurelian spoke first, tossing a pouch of coins onto the bar. "We'll need rooms for the day, and a pitcher of your best mead."

 

The clinking sound of coins roused Hadring from his tentativeness. "Right away."

 

"Leila," a voice stated neutrally, as though in greeting.

 

She turned to see a familiar face. "Falion. It's been a while. These are Colette and Aurelian. And you know Alva."

 

The mage looked Aurelian up and down. "You're a Vigilant of Stendarr?" he asked, as though unsure of what to make of the towering Imperial. 

 

Alva frowned, confused. "You know each other?"

 

"We only recently became acquainted," Leila said, shrugging. She flashed a grin at Falion. "You almost killed me."

 

"I wasn't even close," he grumbled. "But it's kind of you to exaggerate my abilities." Falion cocked his head to the side, snorting, "I should've known it was you." He glanced at her companions. "Is this your new coven?"

 

The humor vanished from her eyes, even as her smile remained. "You know I don't like that word."

 

They took a seat and Hadring brought over some mead. As soon as they filled their tankards, Torvald entered the inn, frantically looking around until he saw his daughter.

 

"Alva!" he exclaimed, coming over to their table.

 

Alva's eyes widened as she stared at him for a moment. She blinked, as though struggling to remember something.

 

"Father," she said finally, before rising to her feet. She allowed him to embrace her, but Leila noted that she didn't hug him back.

 

Torvald was trembling, distraught. "I... I mourned you. They told me... I never thought I'd see you again, Alva."

 

Alva's voice was emotionless, as though she were in a daze. "I never thought I'd see you either."

 

Falion stood up. "If we're going to do this, we need to move quickly. The dawn is coming."

 

"If?" Torvald frowned. "What do you mean 'if'? Of course, we're doing this. She needs to do this!" He looked at Alva. "You have to come home. Everybody misses you. I miss you! When you disappeared, it broke my heart!"

 

"Father," Alva began slowly, calmly, "I came back to say goodbye. I can't return to this life. I can't be a tavern maid for the rest of my life."

 

"Then you'll do something else," he insisted. "Whatever you want!"

 

Alva smiled ruefully. "Whatever I want? I can't do whatever I want and you know it. I can't go to a proper school, marry a rich lord, or live in a fine house."

 

Leila raised an eyebrow. "You can't do that as a vampire either."

 

Alva paused, as though absorbing the cruel shock of those words. Leila stood up slowly, pressing advantage.

 

"We had to travel by night to get here, sleeping in caves, avoiding the roads. If we were human, we would have walked or ridden by day, and slept in taverns. Which do you prefer, Alva?"

 

The young vampire shook her head. "It's not...that's not what I --"

 

"You're still dreaming of Movarth and his pretty lies," Leila said, smirking. "He promised you a palace, and all the jewels. But all he gave you was a filthy cave, and an enchanted ring to help you do his bidding." She flashed a grin. "And then he died, leaving you with nothing. How will you get your palace now, Alva? And if you acquire expensive trinkets and baubles, what will you do with them? Where will you go?"

 

Alva had no answer, except to look into the pleading eyes of her father.

 

He's the only person in the world who loves me, she suddenly remembered. The only one who never lied.

 

"As a human, and a young one at that," Leila reminded her, "the possibilities are endless. But when you fear the sun, the possibilities vanish in the dark."

 

***

 

To complete the ritual, Falion had to cast a sacred circle. While Torvald poured salt, Falion drew sigils. Aurelian was happy to help, listening intently to the mage's instruction.

 

"What's the first thing you'll do," Leila asked Alva, "you know, after?"

 

Alva smiled. "I'm gonna take a long hot bath, put on some fresh clean clothes, and go to the baker's. I want to order the biggest sweet roll he has and eat the whole thing by myself."

 

Leila smiled. "Don't forget to buy a little something for your father as well."

 

Falion approached her. "Do you have it?"

 

Leila nodded, reaching into her corset to produce a large black soul gem. "Nicked it off a necromancer who passed out at Redwater."

 

The mage took the gem and returned to the circle. "Let us begin."

 

Alva started to go, then stopped. "Your accent changes when you're emotional," she pointed out. "And when your accent changes, your posture changes. Suddenly, it's like you're all prim and proper. And that letter to Falion? The most beautiful penmanship I've ever seen." She slid the gold and ruby ring off her finger, and handed it to Leila. Her red eyes glowed as she said, "I won't pretend to know anything about Volkihar, or why you were exiled, but I can tell you belong there as much as the rest of them."

 

Leila stared after the fledgling, speechless as Alva entered the circle and Falion's ritual began. Enthralled, she, Colette, and Aurelian watched as Falion summoned lights. He deftly wove them through the air, pushing and pulling, letting the magic of Aetherius flow through Alva.

 

Her eyes changed first, then her complexion. She took a deep breath and exhaled. Several feet away, Leila could here her heart beating.

 

"How do feel?" Torvald asked, brow furrowed in worry.

 

Alva beamed back at him, "Alive."

 

*** 

 

Back in the tavern, Falion sat with the remaining vampires. They were solemn, as was he; he'd never had vampires witness the ritual before.

 

"I want to do what you do," Aurelian blurted finally. He looked at the mage. "I want to cure vampires. We don't choose to be abominations. The curse is forced upon us."

 

Falion raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to be cured yourself, you know."

 

The tall Imperial nodded. "I'll do it."

 

"And you'll have to study magic," the mage added, raising his tankard. "You may even have to attend the College of Winterhold, depending upon your level of skill."

 

"Fine," Aurelian agreed, nodding resolutely. "Whatever it takes." He looked at Leila. "I would rather redeem the damned, than kill them, and I believe Stendarr would agree."

 

"I, for one, enjoy being an abomination," Colette said, shrugging. "In fact, I want to join the Dark Brotherhood."

 

Leila sighed, but didn't disparage her. "You'll make a fine assassin, Colette," she said wearily.

 

The small vampire nodded, as though thinking it over. "I always thought so."

 

"And you?" Aurelian asked Leila. "Where will you go?"

 

Leila leaned back in her chair. "Back to where I belong, apparently."

 

Next: Lady Redwater