4E 201, Blue Palace
Legate Rikke
The stone walls of the Blue Palace had always struck Rikke as cold, no matter how many braziers burned along the columns or how thick the velvet drapes were drawn over its high windows. And today, the chamber felt colder still.
Legate Rikke stood at the round council table in the Blue Palace, posture straight, hands clasped behind her back like a soldier even now. Around her, the highest powers in Skyrim gathered around the table.
General Tullius, her superior and the face of the Empire in this province.
Jarl Elisif the Fair, widow of the late High King Torygg, and current ruler of Solitude, the capital hold of Skyrim.
Sybille Stentor, Solitude's mysterious court mage, who Rikke had long since suspected to be a vampire. Though it didn't really matter as long as her allegiances aligned with the Empires.
And lastly—and unfortunately—Elenwen. The Thalmor emissary. Dressed in gold-threaded robes. Her presence was as unwelcome as it was impossible to avoid.
The discussion had turned from rumors of dragons, especially since the destruction of Helgen that led to Ulfric Stormcloak escaping their grasp. Since then, more and more news came about from every province in Skyrim regarding sights of dragons prowling the countryside.
The most recent one of course being the attack on Whiterun. Specifically, news that the dragons were killed.
Many spouted doubts, most coming from the veteran legionaries who survived Helgen. But all those doubts disappeared the moment Jarl Balgruuf had the dragon's carcassess paraded through the city like a trophy.
"Though we don't know their identity yet," said Tullius, continuing their discussion, "it won't take long for my spies to find out. Actions such as that begets attention."
Of course, he was talking about the lauded Dragonslayers. The Dragonborn and the man in ebony armor who'd helped drive the beast back. The stories sounded ridiculous, how the Dragonborn split the wing of one of the dragons with a blade shining with peerless golden light and the ebony warrior breaking the neck of another with his bare hands.
There were still too many unknowns. And Rikke hated unknowns.
"Yes," murmured Sybille, her voice like silk over steel. "But the world keeps moving while we grasp at shadows. I've heard news from the south. Rorikstead has fallen."
Everyone turned to her.
"They say a dragon, with scales as red as blood, descended on the town. Burned it to the ground." Her expression didn't change, but Rikke noticed the subtle twitch in her fingers. "A man named Erik rallied the survivors and led them to Falkreath."
General Tullius leaned forward, brow darkening. "An entire town lost… and not ten leagues from our Imperial camp."
"They did what they could," Rikke interjected, she had received word of this prior to the meeting. "Legate Quentin Cipius responded within the hour. Over half the garrison was lost trying to protect the civilians. If not for him, Erik would be leading corpses."
"Yet this bears another problem entirely." Tullius sighed. "Balgruuf had made his stance clear. The man dislikes to see legionnaires or even Stormcloaks in his territory. The damn dragon had forced Legate Quentin to reveal the force we had precariously hidden within the hold of Whiterun."
"Traitors, all of them," Elenwen scoffed. "Balgruuf's inaction is treason by another name. I propose a full offensive. We seize Whiterun, remind the Jarls who commands Skyrim."
Tullius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Doing that would push Balgruuf straight into Ulfric's arms."
"He already leans toward rebellion," the Thalmor woman replied.
"No," said Elisif, her voice soft but steady. "Skyrim cannot be fractured further. A civil war while dragons burn our villages? That is not strategy. That is suicide."
Discussion continued then. Borders of the war efforts, more dragon sightings, garrison rotations. No details were spared.
The doors to the chambers opened and a courier in Imperial red stepped inside, saluted, and handed a sealed letter to General Tullius. He dismissed the man with a glance and broke the seal.
Rikke watched his brow furrow as he read. When he didn't speak after a moment, she prompted, "What is it, General?"
Tullius looked up, frowning. "One of our agents intercepted a courier bound for Windhelm. It appears Ulfric is attempting to bring the Vigilants of Stendarr into the war. We have no word whether or not they accepted."
"The Vigilants?" Elisif asked, eyes wide. "But they've never involved themselves in matters of state. They are holy men."
"That's exactly why it's troubling," Tullius said. "If the people see them side with the rebellion, it legitimizes the Stormcloaks in a way even their worship of Talos can't."
"They're few in number," Elisif continued, almost thinking aloud. "Only a few hundred in Skyrim, as per the treaty signed by the High Priest and my late husband. But their presence is symbolic. If they call for righteous war, the common folk will listen. And many will flock to Ulfric's banner."
"They'd be dangerous allies for the rebels," Tullius agreed. "The average Vigilant is trained better than most raw recruits in the Legion."
"A show of force should suffice," Elenwen said, her voice steeled. "A Justiciar with a detachment of Thalmor agents could put them in their place. Show them what happens when religious fanatics overstep their bounds."
Rikke felt her stomach twist.
"That won't be necessary, Lady Elenwen." Elisif replied, giving the Thalmor emissary a measured stare. "Skyrim does not need more foreign boots on its soil. Nor do we need to provoke another faction into rebellion."
Only Rikke caught the subtle twitch in Elenwen's lip—the faintest smirk, like a cat watching its prey scurry.
"Oh? And what do you suggest, child?" the Altmer said sweetly. "Surely you don't mean to do nothing."
Elisif sat straighter. "I am no child, Thalmor. And I never said we'd do nothing. The Vigilants were approached by appeals to divine worship. We will do the same. Extend a hand in cooperation. Offer them Imperial support to better combat Daedric threats. Not just words but soldiers."
Tullius blinked. "You'd reinforce the Vigilants?"
"They are spread thin," Elisif said. "Let us not forget that Skyrim's wilderness harbors every manner of unholy thing—vampires, necromancers, Daedric cults. Why not help them do what they already intend to do?"
Tullius looked thoughtful. "That… could work," he admitted, stroking his chin. "Though pulling soldiers from the front lines risks weakening our defenses."
"Then I will provide men from Solitude's guard," Elisif said without hesitation. "Captain Aldis has trained a fresh cohort this past year. They'll be ready within the month. I'll lend them to bolster the Vigilants, as a gesture of faith. Let the people of Skyrim see who truly protects them."
Tullius leaned back and gave a rare nod of approval. "Very well. Your orders shall be heeded, Jarl Elisif."
"Thank you, General," Elisif replied. She allowed herself the smallest smile.
Rikke was glad. This solution was much better than what Elenwen suggested. Though speaking of the Altmer, Rikke watched her to see any changes in her expression.
The placid, yet calculating smile on Elenwen's face nearly sent chills down her back.
…
4E 201, Hall of VIgilants
Serana Volkihar
They crested the final hill just as the rising sun spilled over the horizon, turning the snowy plains to gold. Serana pulled her hood further down, eyes narrowing at the light. Even now, after everything, the sun still made her bones ache.
Gerron walked beside her with a smile, watching his mechanical owl flying overhead. And behind them, Tolan cursed under his breath, squinting into the sun. The Vigilant still hadn't grown used to traveling with a vampire at his side, but he'd stopped keeping his hand near his blade all the time. Serana counted that as progress.
The Hall of the Vigilants came into view—modest and sturdy, like its occupants. Snow-dusted stone walls, a tall watchtower in the center, and smoke curling from the chimneys.
Gerron and Tolan had caught her up as much as they could with the current situations in Skyrim. Specifically regarding the many historical events that had happened in the near seven centuries she was buried.
The Vigilants of Stendarr were among them, and Serana can't help but be intrigued by them. Established in the Third Era of the year 433, the Vigilants were created in response to the widespread opening of the gates of Oblivion by a cult called the Mythic Dawn.
To think the Daedric Prince of Destruction himself attempted to take over Tamriel. How dangerous, and interesting.
They were greeted by many of the Vigilants as soon as they entered the establishment. Though she had noticed many eyes follow in her direction, it seems they all trusted Tolan and Gerron enough to leave her alone for the most part.
In the clearing before the Hall, there were two figures danced steel against steel.
Serana stopped walking and watched, interested. "Who are they?"
"That's the Keeper Carcette and her daughter, Kiera." Tolan replied.
Carcette, clad in partial plate and the robes of their holy order, moved like a seasoned warrior—a blur of efficiency and power. Her opponent, a younger woman with her own brand of white steel armor, met every strike with equal grace. Blonde hair tied back, sharp eyes locked on her mother's blade.
For a moment, Serana simply watched. They didn't hold back—not even a little. Sparks flew as swords clashed, feet churned the snow into slush, and their breath misted in the cold air. It was beautiful in a way Serana hadn't expected. Not brutal, not reckless, but disciplined.
The duel ended in perfect symmetry—both swords halted, tips at each other's throats.
"…Tie again," Kiera said, smiling despite the sweat on her brow.
Carcette let out a small chuckle. "Your time in Cyrodiil has done you wonders, daughter mine."
She sheathed her blade and finally noticed the three onlookers. "Tolan, Gerron, You've returned. Come. We'll speak in my office."
They followed her into the Hall, warmth immediately wrapping around them as the heavy door shut behind. Inside the office, Carcette removed her gauntlets and gestured for them to sit. Tolan remained standing. Serana didn't bother to lower her hood.
"I sent you two to clear a vampiric tomb and instead came back with one," Carcette began, her gaze settling on Serana. "I assume this must be important."
Serana had thought long and hard in their journey here whether or not to be forthcoming to these strangers. She had sensed no lie coming from either of her new companions and they had been far more cordial to her than her father ever did.
Seeing Carcette and Kiera had even sparked many memories she had with her own mother. It was a question she had asked numerous times after waking up. What happened to Valerica? Serana being sealed for seven hundred years was never the plan.
Did her mother abandon Serana to be forever buried beneath that tomb? It made sense in a cruel, twisted way. It had even succeeded. Her father had not found her and the Elder Scroll for that long.
And so, despite only meeting them for the first time, she opted to trust this set of strangers who had thus far proven to be trustworthy.
"This is about the Volkihar. My… father." The word tasted bitter. "Lord Harkon."
Carcette's expression sharpened. She nodded once, signaling for Serana to continue.
"It's been centuries since then," Serana said. "He holds a court of the pure-blooded. They're not like the regular vampires you tangle with, these ones are the closest to being regarded as ancient vampires."
Carcette's brows knit. "Does he mean to go to war with Skyrim?"
"Yes. And not just against mortals. Harkon seeks to fulfill a prophecy. One that involves blotting out the sun."
"Is something like that even possible?" Kiera questioned. "Blotting out the sun…that takes a level of magic most people could only dream of."
Serana gave a tired nod. "It's real. I don't know how my mother confirmed it, but she said it is all mentioned in the Elder Scrolls."
Serana gestured to the scroll on her back, and she watched Carcette and Kiera looking at it in interest. To their credit, they merely gave it a passing glance.
"In that case, the scroll must be protected." Carcette looked thoughtful then. "The scroll is under your protection. So by extension, you are under our protection. The realm takes precedence over anything else. What you're saying… this is far beyond the capacity we're used to deal with."
Serana let that sit in the air. The weight of it. The truth of it.
Then Tolan stepped forward.
"There is… something else," he said, voice lower now. "There's someone I know that we might need to bring into this. He's been preparing for something like this years ago, before the civil war broke out, he tried to revive an old order. The Dawnguard. Vampire hunters. Was laughed out of the Hall for it. Some said he was mad. Said the threat was exaggerated."
Carcette took a deep breath.
"…Isran," she said. "I remember."
"He was rigid and arrogant," Tolan muttered. "But he saw something we didn't. And now? Maybe he was right all along."
Serana crossed her arms. "If he foresaw the threat my father had before it happened, it seems like he's a good ally to have."
"Maybe…," Carcette murmured. She stood from her desk and walked to the window, gazing out into the snowy woods beyond.
"If Harkon is truly making his move… we can't face him with our numbers alone. The Vigilants were never meant to face a disciplined army of vampires. We root out cults and covens. But this? This is war."
She turned back to them.
"Isran has the right to it. Then the Dawnguard must be reborn."
Tolan blinked. "You mean—?"
"Find Isran, Tolan. Ask him if there's still a place for his order. Tell him the Vigilants are prepared to cooperate. We don't have the luxury of pride anymore."
Tolan nodded, his usual skepticism replaced by a quiet determination. "It'll be done."
Serana said nothing.
For the first time in centuries, she had stepped back into the world of mortals. And it seemed that the world was readying for battle.
She wasn't sure if she belonged in either place anymore.
But she knew one thing for certain.
Harkon had to be stopped.
…
AN: The plot is starting to unravel. I am setting up all this for a massive war to erupt in the future. Plenty of factions are starting to be revealed and talks of alliances are starting to emerge.
We have the Mythic Dawn, the Vigilants, Alduin's side of the dragons, Paarthunax's side of the dragons, Harkon's court, the Empire, the Stormcloaks, and perhaps even many more.
I hope you enjoyed the direction I'm taking this story.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 31 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!