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whispersafterdusk · 5 years

Text

In Your Hands - ch 11

He could see the gradual change in the man's face; Isran had seemed at first relieved to see them, if a little confused about their meeting place. When he'd gotten a good look at Ralsten however that relief and confusion gave way to suspicion, anger, and an undisguised disgust. He started to stomp toward them when the wood elf held up his hands.

"Stop," Ralsten said quietly. He made no move toward his weapons or the man, though Isran drew his warhammer. "I know you know what I am now. I know you want to destroy me...out of hate, out of pity, whatever your reasoning might be. This...this wasn't intended. I didn't ask for this, Isran. I got captured, and...and turned."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand." ((Continued below cut))

Ralsten stared evenly at the man. "I have two reasons, actually." He gestured at the handles of the Scrolls sticking up over his and Serana's shoulders. "Three reasons if you'd stop and think. I'm betting that Harkon is expecting you to do exactly what you're wanting to, right now -- turning me sows distrust, and killing me robs the Dawnguard of another member as well as the knowledge I carry about the prophecy and how to stop it. I can only imagine how amused he'll be if you actually do it."

Serana's eyes flicked to him at the lie but she remained silent and soon turned her attention back to Isran.

The man grit his teeth, staring them down, then returned his weapon to his back. "What happened?"

"We were looking for the Scrolls -- we found one with the help of a scholar near Winterhold. It was down inside a dwemer ruin, hidden away in one of their contraptions. The other was held by Serana's mother, in the Soul Cairn. -- I'll explain what that is later," he added, seeing Isran's brows knit together in confusion again. "While we were trying to find her mother, Harkon attacked us... We were both captured, and..." Ralsten trailed off, running his tongue over his teeth.

Isran's attention moved to Serana. "And I'm guessing you couldn't stop them?"

"I-" she started.

"-don't you dare try to blame her. She was outnumbered, WE were outnumbered. I was turned -- I don't know if he intended to force me to join him or to cause chaos in your ranks. I do know that I -- Harkon needs to be stopped before he can do this to anyone else. Tell me there's a cure for this."

"And if I said there IS no cure?"

Quietly Ralsten glanced to Serana; her expression was calm, unreadable, and he gave her a tiny smile before looking back to Isran. "I guess if anyone would know, it would be you and your Dawnguard."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, vampire."

Ralsten frowned at him. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. I was trusted by you until the fangs appeared -- now I'm not worthy enough for your help? After everything I've done and suffered for the Dawnguard?"

Isran's eyes narrowed. "If you were turned by them then you are suspect."

"Then cure me, damn it!" the elf growled. "What's happened to me won't change the fact I intend to stop him and his prophecy, but if you won't help...then I guess we're doing this on our own." He looked to Serana at that and she gave him the barest of nods but her expression remained unreadable. "At least let Dexion read these Scrolls so we-"

"He can't," Isran interrupted. "He can't read anything at the moment."

"What?" Serana asked, eyes widening. "What do you mean? We need him."

"He's gone blind. Something about not having properly prepared himself."

Ralsten groaned. "Of course... Now what?"

"We don't know. We weren't even sure you'd return."

The three stood in silence for a moment; Ralsten could feel a dampness seeping into his collar and there was water beginning to bead on Serana's shoulders -- if it weren't for the fact he barely felt cold anymore, remaining this close to the falls in this chill...

"Can we speak to Dexion anyway?" Serana asked finally. "Surely he'd have an idea on what to do, or where we could go or who to speak to. We can't just...leave this undone. We have to stop my father."

Isran studied them both wordlessly, a sour expression on his face; after some time he turned to climb back into his horse's saddle. "I will bring Dexion to you. The fort is protected with- it's protected against vampires, and I will not lower the defenses for your sake and put us all at risk."

Serana nodded. "Then we'll wait here."

Isran turned the horse's head up the pass and made it a few steps before Ralsten called after him.

"Isran, wait-"

The man turned to him with a look of annoyance.

"Hidden within the straw of the cot I was using is a small bag," Ralsten said. "I would be indebted to you further if you could bring it with you, when you bring Dexion back."

He stared Ralsten down for several moments. "Fine." Turning back to the path Isran kicked the horse into a gallop, leaving Ralsten and Serana standing together in the road.

Ralsten watched him go until he was out of sight, then blew out a frustrated sigh. "I guess we should plan on traveling to Cyrodiil, if Dexion can't help us."

Serana sighed through her nose, nodding. "You're probably right. But I hope that's not the case." She turned to look up at him. "...you lied to him for me."

"Of course I did. I won't let him or anyone else blame or harm you over this mess. Telling him the truth and the whole story wouldn't have changed that either."

"Is..." she started, then trailed off and moved to go back to where they'd been sitting.

"Is...?" he repeated.

"Is a cure what you really want? Or was that just to shut Isran up?"

Ralsten came over and dropped to the grass beside her, thinking. "...a bit of both, I guess. It's just...I think of my childhood, and I recognize that it's possible I could exist like this without hurting anyone if there's no choice. But I must also remember what they did to my mother when they learned what she was. I have my daughter to think of-" he bit off the words, glancing at her.

A sort of wistful smile crossed her face. "I envy her...having a father that truly cares." When she looked up to him again her smile was kinder. "I believe she has father that will raise her well, no matter what afflicts him. And I truly hope she never has to witness you dying in front of her."

Ralsten chuckled. "That's truly my main fear - what this would mean for her, regardless if I died or not. If I absolutely had to I suppose I could empty that home...have my grandfather's farm rebuilt. Live close enough to Solitude for Lucia to go to the Bard's college but far enough from there that I would stand a chance at hiding what I am."

"Rebuilt? What happened to it?"

"When they learned my adopted mother was a vampire, after they threw me into that cell to keep watch over me and make sure I wasn't corrupted, they burned the farm to the ground. I still hold the deed to the land but nothing remains there."

"Oh," Serana said, brow furrowing. "That's terrible...to lose your family and your home in such a short time. Where did you go?"

"The Breton couple that my father had hired to run the storefront, Feraan and Eveline, took me in until I was old enough to be fully on my own... I'm trusting Lucia to them, and to Lydia, if anything should happen to me -- they're getting on a bit in age but they have a very shrewd daughter they're teaching to take their place, and I know they'll take care of Lucia without question and would raise her well."

Serana nodded at that and a comfortable silence fell between them. It slowly crept towards evening and when she'd offered him one of the blood potions he'd declined and instead took his crossbow and disappeared into the forest. He was gone for nearly an hour before he came back with a dead wild goat slung over his shoulders.

He set about shaving off a strip of the coarse fur from around the goat's neck, then cleaned that spot with a rag soaked in the river.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't speak for you but I'm hungry, and I'd rather keep those potions for a time when we've nothing else around."

"You're hungry because you're newly changed," she said quietly. She got up and came to stand over his shoulder as he dried off the shaved areas with a another rag he'd pulled from inside his shirt. "Those who have recently turned take some time to adjust and will feel the hunger more...keenly, I guess. And more often."

"How long before it all...ah, settles?"

Serana shrugged. "I don't really know...I'm sorry. You're the first I've ever sired, and my parents took care of growing our clan on their own terms. Since it didn't involve me they weren't all that forthcoming with information."

Ralsten nodded and stood, getting away from the muddy shoreline and back to the place they'd sat together in earlier. The goat had a crossbow bolt sticking out of its chest, closer to its left shoulder but it had sunk in deeply enough to kill it in one shot; as he sat down Ralsten braced it against the cliff's base -- sort of balancing it on its hooves in his grasp.

"Well," he sighed, not looking especially eager, "I guess we'll find out of this IS how my adopted mother survived all those years."

He bent his head to the shaved neck of the goat and after a few false starts finally shut his eyes and bit down. Serana watched him silently; after a few swallows he straightened and looked to her.

"It's like drinking water...it's nothing compared to...to..." He grimaced, not really wanting to complete that thought.

Serana looked thoughtful at that - almost curious - and Ralsten shuffled away on his knees to offer her a chance to try it. She bent to drink from his bite and fed briefly, then leaned up to nod to him in agreement.

"Go on," she said as she wiped her mouth clean. "I don't need to feed just yet."

Ralsten fed until he felt sated, then butchered the goat properly and wrapped the cut meats in its own skin -- when Isran came back he would offer it to him to take back to the fort's larder in the hopes that the goat wouldn't be left mostly wasted; he kicked the guts and bones out into the pool for the fish and scavengers to find then returned to his spot beside Serana, leaned his head back against the cliff wall, and closed his eyes.

-------------------------------------------------

"Wow. Look at this place. No one's been here in centuries. I doubt there's any other place like it in Skyrim. It's beautiful."

Ralsten wholeheartedly agreed with Serana's sentiment; the Ancestor Glade stretched out beneath them -- they'd entered through a dark and gloomy tunnel cut through the mountainside and had emerged at the top of a ridge overlooking the glade, with old and worn stairs carved into the ground leading down to where springs bubbled and stonehenges dotted the pools.

The air here was hot and humid and as they descended the stairs clusters of moths the size of songbirds fluttered out of their path to swarm above the flowers and reeds along the pool's shore.

In the very center of the glade was an area of pools that had been built up higher than the ones around it, and there was a large stone there with a circular opening carved into it that had something hanging from a pair of hooks within it. Ralsten went to examine the stone and its hanging object while Serana carefully waded over to rest her hand on the trunk of one of the slender, pink-flowering trees that had taken root in the pools.

Ralsten reached up into the hole of the large stone and pulled free what looked like a curved, double-handled blade; near him, strangely, was a pillar of light that came from the sky -- he could see no source for it nor could he see the "top" of the pillar, and it was as wide as the pool it ended in.

"I've never seen anything like this...have you?" He examined the blade briefly, then looked into the brightly lit waters under the pillar - nothing seemed out of the ordinary about it, and there was no sound here save for the bubbling of water and the rustling of the grass in the gentle breeze.

"No. I've not even heard of any place like this, not even in a book," Serana answered. She glanced curiously at the blade he held, then reached up to pull a branch of the tree down and smelled it. "Odd. The flowers don't have a scent."

"Maybe not to us," Ralsten said after a pause. He looked toward the northern shore where a swarm of the moths fluttered. "Those things wouldn't be here if there wasn't something luring them."

"I guess that's true," Serana replied.

He stepped over beside her and looked at the tree; there were squarish spots where it seemed the bark had been stripped away and then regrown. Looking between the blade in his hand and the size of markings on the trunk he knew this had to be one of the canticle trees Dexion had mentioned, and that he held the knife needed to remove the bark.

"All right...draw knife, and tree, and bark..." Ralsten murmured to himself as he set the edge of the blade in place and gave it an experimental tug downward.

The knife bit into the bark but he only managed to move a tiny bit - maybe the width of his smallest finger, if that - and with a grunt he began to pull and tug, working it down through the bark until he held a strip of it that was the width of the knife and about as long as his hand from fingertips to his wrist. A smell somewhat familiar, something like fresh cut pine, filled the air around them...and then so did a few of the moths that were fluttering nearby.

Serana smiled at the sudden attraction then looked around to spot other swarms nearby. "It looks like Dexion was right. I wonder how many you need..."

With a shrug Ralsten stuck the blade into his belt and waded away from the central pool toward the nearest cluster of moths on the nearby shore; they joined the others in flying around him -- there were already enough that he could feel the breeze of their wings as they circled him.

"Unless my vision's playing tricks..." he heard Serana say from somewhere behind him, "there's some kind of magical effect around you already."

"Is there?" Ralsten asked, looking around. He could only see flapping wings; it wasn't until he moved toward the steps they'd come down and then circled around the shoreline toward a thin waterfall that he caught a glimpse of his reflection and saw a sort of shimmering halo around him - faint, but it was there.

He walked halfway around the shore of the bubbling pools, gaining an ever growing group of moths swirling around him.

"Woah -- I think that might have been what we're waiting for," Serana called from where she'd remained at the central pool. "You're surrounded with this...glow."

The elf moved back to the center and stepped into the central pillar of light (he could think of no other reason for it to be here) and took the first Scroll Serana handed to him.

She studied him, looking worried for a moment. "Are you...ready to try this?"

"I'm either ready or about to go blind, or mad, or both," Ralsten answered, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile even though his stomach was knotting up with anxiety.

He took in a breath and held it, and then slid the scroll open. Images flashed through his mind, as did words and sounds; it all seemed to hit him at once but he knew within the perceived chaotic mess was a certain order, if he focused...so he did, and was hardly aware of himself handing the scroll back to Serana and taking up the second one.

And then, as suddenly as it had hit him, the rush of sound and images were gone, as were the moths; he didn't think he'd passed out but he "came to" to find Serana kneeling with him in the pillar of light, worry in her face and with her hands on her shoulders being the only thing keeping him upright.

"Are you okay? Almost thought I'd..." she trailed off a moment, searching his face. "...that I'd lost you there. You went as white as the snow."

"That," he started, his words feeling strange and so quiet compared to what he'd seen. "-that felt strange," he managed after a pause to pull his thoughts back into order.

"I could see it in your eyes...you looked about a thousand leagues away." After a few breaths she pulled her hands away and settled them on her knees, leaning toward him. "What did you see? Did you see Auriel's Bow? Do you know where we can find it?"

Ralsten licked his lips, mouth feeling dry. "It's in a place called Darkfall cave. The scrolls gave me its exact location."

She smiled, looking excited and relieved. "Then let's get going. I want to get there before my father has a chance to track us down."

Nodding, Ralsten stood with her and began to wade to the shore and the steps that were their path out of here...then, from the direction of the tunnel that led to the glade came the familiar howl of a death hound.

"Of course," Ralsten sighed, pulling his weapons from his belt.

----------------------------------------------

Things had taken such a strange turn.

In the Darkfall caverns (as beautiful as Blackreach had been, full of glowing plants and creatures) they had met Gelebor who, in return for telling them their way forward to obtain Auriel's Bow, had asked that they kill his brother, Arch-Curate Vyrthur.

At first they'd refused and questioned why he would ask such a thing; Gelebor had solemnly told them of the true history of the Falmer and their disappearance, and called the twisted and ugly Falmer that now populated the darkest reaches of Skyrim "The Betrayed" and explained how they had swept into this chantry and had killed all but himself and his brother...whom he believed was now corrupted by them, and needed to be destroyed.

With no other way to obtain the bow they'd had no choice but to agree; Gelebor had thanked them, given them an ewer and instructions on how to get from wayshrine to wayshrine, and sent them on their way. They'd gone through the first wayshrine and kept moving forward until they'd emerged in a hidden valley that was...wet, and cold, and gloomy. A persistent wind blew and with it carried the peculiar, crisp scent of snow and somewhere distant but near enough to hear came the sound of rushing water.

"I think I prefer the caves to this, and I thought I was tired of caves," Serana said somewhere behind him, just barely audible over the wind.

For a time Ralsten and Serana stood at the entrance of the cavern system, eying the dreary landscape; there were crumbling roads and broken arches and pillars that they could see amidst the scrub grasses and felled trees. Gelebor had given them only a general idea of where the wayshrines were inside the vale so it was up to them to actually locate them -- the only ones they knew would be fairly easy to find would be the first one that was along a road just outside of this cave, and then one that overlooked a large, frozen lake: finding both would be simple (especially the lake) but for the rest of them they would have to explore until they'd located them all.

They followed the barren path until they reached a split then had followed the northern path until they spotted an ethereal figure through the skeletal trees -- their first wayshrine. Prelate Athring had greeted them and proven to be just as incapable of answering questions as Gelebor had warned them he'd be; Ralsten had stumbled through the correct means to communicate with the spirit (which seemed to be simple yes or no answers) and then the Prelate had allowed him to step into the wayshrine to dip the ewer into the basin at its center. With that completed they'd gone back the way they had come and followed the path in the other direction, passing beneath a relatively intact archway and traveling through a roughly hewed pass cut into the mountain.

The pass was clogged with webbing and several frostbite spiders they'd had to quickly dispatch as they'd dropped down on them from above but soon Ralsten and Serana found themselves in a whole other valley...and this one was snowy and full of ridges, waterfalls both frozen and flowing, and a river that was only partly frozen over.

Ralsten groaned -- once again he was thankful he couldn't feel the cold as the snow pelted him. Behind him Serana pulled her hood up, then crunched a few steps ahead to try and peer through the swirling white.

"Any direction look better to you than any other?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment, then pointed to the south. "I think I see something that way but it's hard to tell from here."

He looked again to the waterfalls, to the river, and up and down the shore and saw nothing to give them direction. "It's as good a choice as any."

Her eyes were sharper than his; the further south they went, sticking to the river's edge, the more apparent another shimmering, ghostly figure became, and soon Ralsten was standing before Prelate Celegriath. After another bumbling yes-or-no conversation he was dipping more water into his ewer, and the Prelate ignored him afterward just as Athring had after he'd taken water from that basin earlier.

They could see no way to cross the river safely from this end of it; they went back the way they'd come and he wasn't certain how long they walked as the snow made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead of them -- he assumed they'd long since walked by the pass they'd come through to get to this valley.

"There has to be a way across this river," Serana muttered as they stomped along. "Even if time has broken it by now."

Ralsten nodded; the further up the river they went the closer the treeline and cliffs came to the shore until they were winding their way among the pines and able to see even less through the low-hanging branches and the snowstorm. At last he heard a sigh of relief from Serana, and stepped out from underneath a pine to stand at her back, staring ahead to what she'd spotted.

Finally (though it wasn't a mortal-made structure or anything of the like) they'd come to where the river began -- a large waterfall pounded down into a pool that then flowed outward, and here there was a bridge of thick ice over the pool furthest from the fall's base as well as the shore that curved around the pool's edge. Ralsten, even though he wasn't in his heaviest plate, didn't want to risk the ice and they picked their way along the pool's shore and crossed over to the other side, finding themselves staring up a rather treacherous looking stone staircase carved into the rocks.

The climb up was tense with several slips and an overall slow going but soon they were crossing through another pass (this one seemed like a natural gap, unlike the one they'd come through earlier) and found themselves in yet another valley, but at least here the wind and the snow weren't such an annoyance.

The river here was free flowing and not iced over but to their north was another stone pathway along a ridge that led to a natural stone bridge; on the other side of the valley from where they stood was another wayshrine, with its ghostly guardian standing out against the snow like a beacon.

They headed toward the bridge and in the distance they could still hear the waterfalls that fed into the wide river. The top of the mountains that surrounded them were shrouded in clouds and barely more than shadows through the cover but overall it was a...strangely peaceful, amazing view.

"It's beautiful here."

Ralsten nodded. "It is. I'm getting rather tired of the snow though," he added after a moment, shooting her a grin.

Serana laughed quietly. "So am I. But it could be worse."

"It could, but I'd rather not press my luck."

Halfway across the bridge Serana sighed. "That's not promising."

Ralsten turned to her and saw her looking into the distance; following her line of sight he could see another stone bridge, and it was lined with a fence made of the strange, sinewy building material the Falmer used.

"I was hoping they would have left after wiping out the chantry's people," he grunted. He supposed it was stupid to have hoped there wouldn't be any here.

The fencing on that bridge was the first sign of the Falmer that they'd seen but it gave them little comfort to know to expect them somewhere else in this valley. Ralsten quickly collected the water from the wayshrine and as he stepped out of the shrine he noted what seemed like pillars and another path leading down behind it; cautiously he walked around to the back of the shrine and there could spy stairs and a path down -- was there another shrine in that direction? There was only one way to really find out...

Standing at the top of the stairs gave them a surprisingly wide view of a great frozen lake that stretched out from the stairs's base, and that out in its center was...it was mostly a cluster of stones atop a small hill jutting from the ice's surface, with stairs that led up to a large stone that wasn't of the same type as the rest around it. It was strangely familiar to Ralsten and at the lake's edge he'd weighed the risk and reward of trying to reach that stone without truly understanding why he felt drawn to it; Serana hadn't seemed to understand why he'd care either but had agreed to follow him regardless and together the two of them very carefully slipped and skated out toward the large standing stone.

The closer they got the more it became apparent that the cluster of stones were built on top of the other rocks that formed the lake's edge and that it was here that the water fell from the lake into the river below.

"What is this thing, exactly?"

"A...well," Ralsten started. The hard ice under his feet gave way to slightly softer, powdery stuff as they reached the base of the steps that led up to the enormous stone that was oddly out of place. "If I'm right..."

As they climbed the steps a part of that stone began to glow; ancient glyphs awakened and as Ralsten reached the top he recognized the language of the dragons carved there -- a singular word that burned brightly in his eyes as well as his mind.

Gaan, it seemed to whisper to him -- he knew it was 'stamina,' or at least that was as close a word as he had to explain its meaning.

"What's this?" Serana asked, gently reaching up to touch the stone carved with the word. The stone itself was covered with snow and ice, but the word had burned outward and was most visible. "It seems so out of place."

Ralsten shook his head, gathering his thoughts (learning a new word always made his mind a bit fuzzy as it sank in). "It's another Thu'um - usually they've been carved into these giant walls with...with dragon statues and decorated pillars and history carved in with it. I've never seen just a plain rock out in the middle of nowhere."

Serana trailed her fingers across the stone's surface, then began to brush and pick ice out of other carvings near the Thu'um. Ralsten stood at her shoulder and was able to pick out the words she uncovered, but he only knew the words of power because they MADE themselves known -- he could read but not understand what was written here.

"Het...nok kopraak...d-do...svolo..." he murmured quietly, then shook his head. "I only understand this one here, gaan -- some are powerful, some aren't."

"And this is some kind of history?"

He nodded. "From what little I've learned from the Greybeards. I don't know the language and at best I can only sound out what I see...only the words that're actually words of power are the ones I just...learn, because I'm Dragonborn." The elf eyed the stone as Serana continued to uncover more of the words there - no more jumped out at him as powerful and he was left looking at words he could repeat back to her but not translate.

"I guess we should keep moving," she said then, dusting her hands of snow. "Though it would be interesting to come back and try to translate this someday."

"Assuming we can find a book or one of us learns the tongue," he chuckled.

Together they went, side by side, down the stairs, then Ralsten came to a stop as he felt the ground under his boots...pulse. It brought to mind the feeling of dropping something heavy to the floor near his own feet and he looked around warily; Serana had much the same careful look on her face - it was clear she'd felt it too - and her attention was roaming around their surroundings.

Then, with a pair of earsplitting cracks, two large...things...burst out of the ice out near the center of the lake. At first Ralsten had only the impression of bright colors but then he heard a familiar roar; eyes narrowing he glared up at two oddly colored dragons that were circling overhead and clearly eying them.

"Stay on the stairs here if you can," Ralsten ordered quietly, gaze briefly flicking to Serana. "I'd rather not risk us both getting knocked into this lake and trapped under the ice."

One of the dragons dove and a line of flame spewed from its mouth; Ralsten dove one way and Serana the other, landing in the snow as the dragon's breath melted the ice they'd been standing on - it refroze just as quickly as it had melted, taking on a sheen not unlike a mirror's surface.

He had gotten a better look as the dragon flew by -- this one was different than any he'd seen before. Its belly scales and the webbing of its wings were a pale yellow that blended into a muted orange, and what were normally spikes on the other dragons were flat, armored scales that extended down its spine - these were a bright blue, and its tail was flattened and wide like a beaver's.

The second dragon came down close on the tail of the first; Ralsten saw the maw opening to spew fire directly at him and sucked in a breath.

"FUS RO DAH-" the shout exploded out of him; the dragon had the sense to try and dip out of the way but the shout's power clipped the tip of a wing and sent the beast in a spiral to crash into the ice.

Ralsten stood, then immediately slipped on the ice and dropped to one knee; of all places to be fighting not one but two fire-breathing dragons, on top of a frozen lake had to be the absolute dumbest place he could think of.

Hoping that Serana would find ample cover near the rock wall (the dragons wouldn't be able to directly dive on her if she kept ducking around the sides) Ralsten began to slide and scramble for the far shore in the hopes he could lure both dragons that direction and fight them on solid ground.

One dragon certainly fell for the ruse and dove to lace his back painfully with another tongue of flame but the dragon's path forward had it swooping over the shore and beyond; hissing in pain and feeling blisters already forming Ralsten managed to get his feet onto the lake's shore and began to sprint up the stairs as best as he could. An approaching roar alerted him to the fact that the second dragon was also close behind him; he spun and then dove to avoid another breath of flames, then dragged himself upright and pulled his crossbow off his back.

He fired twice at what he believed was the first dragon that had attacked (there wasn't any way to tell them apart) and noted with some satisfaction that the belly scales weren't as impenetrable as the ones on their brethren; the two bolts sunk in and the dragon roared in response, dipping its wing to turn on a wingtip and dart higher and out of his range. It would take far more bolts than he had to actually kill one of them like this unless he somehow managed to hit one in...an eye, or sever an artery, or...or something else immensely, stupidly lucky.

He let the crossbow swing to his back on its strap and pulled his mace and sword (he no longer had his paired set of maces, thanks to Harkon) off his belt and readied himself to try and strike if one dove again.

The dragons didn't leave him waiting for long; one came in low and skimming the ground, its strange, beak-like mouth snapping for him as the other swooped in perpendicular to its sibling, spewing fire. To avoid the flames Ralsten found himself diving at the dragon who was attempting to snap him up in its mouth; at this awkward angle he bounced off the scales with his sword but managed to crack a mace into the joint of the jaw as the dragon skidded by -- the dragon roared and caught him in the side with one of its wings, sending Ralsten flying back several feet to land on his side and roll, but the blow to the head had clearly hurt the beast.

The one that was flying quickly turned however and sent a shower of fire at him where he lay in the snow; feeling his skin blistering again he let go of his sword and in desperation threw out his hand and cast the only spell he knew.

The swirling, wispy red energy hit the dragon breathing the fire and began to tear its health and strength from its body; he felt some relief as the stolen energies returned health to him and began to mend his burns and blisters. The dragon seemed to figure out something was wrong and went to fly away and out of his reach; without knowing what it'd truly do Ralsten lifted his head and let loose with the Thu'um he'd only just learned.

"GAAN!"

The dragon attempting to fly away began to falter, then dropped to the ground to hop a ways away and turn to fix Ralsten with a brilliant blue eye, its chest heaving as it panted; gritting his teeth (not ALL of the burns had been mended by...whatever that spell was and had done) Ralsten stood and brandished his weapons again. This dragon, along with the one he'd struck in the jaw, spread out to flank him.

The one to his left opened its mouth and roared and then the roar was abruptly cut off as a spike of ice was incredibly, precisely shot into the exposed roof of its mouth; Ralsten charged in to take advantage of Serana's amazing strike, bringing his mace around to smash into the joint of the nearest wing while plunging his sword through the webbing, gouging a long and jagged tear through it. He ducked the next blast of fire as the dragon retaliated then was sent rolling across the ground again as the other dragon slammed its head into his hip; Serana continued to harass the dragon with the injured wing with ice but Ralsten could also see the glowing red of the draining spell striking it too.

When he came to a stop he hooked his mace back to his belt and took up his sword with both hands; it felt odd to be holding just one weapon but he knew he could put more strength behind the swing if he held it in a two-handed grip. Darting forward he threw himself in a skid on his knees as the other flanking dragon let loose with another gout of flame -- it mostly struck the other dragon who didn't seem too fazed by the attack but the flames blinded it enough that it did not see Ralsten rising to his feet and coming forward to jam his sword into the side of its neck, scrabbling in the snow to drive the blade in deeper.

Its roar was more of a pained shriek and Ralsten threw himself to the side to avoid the flailing head and wings; at a perfect moment it turned toward Serana and she threw ice down its throat, with the flattened armored scales along its spine bending outward strangely to suggest the ice had penetrated deeply and had been stopped from blowing out the back of its neck by the scales.

The strange, fire-like effect was already eating away at its form as it collapsed to the snow and as Ralsten stood he felt the almost invigorating effect of the dragon's soul entering his body; he was breathing heavily and sweating just as badly - he couldn't truly feel the cold but he could feel the crackle of ice beneath his armor as his sweat froze and stuck armor to skin.

The other dragon was charging at him from across the snow; Ralsten extended a hand out to the beast and sent that draining spell reaching for it. It nimbly dodged to the side and leaped into the air, its beak-shaped mouth open and arching down for him.

The shout Ralsten loosed blew the dragon's head to the side but didn't halt its forward motion; his sword carved a strip of meat and scale from its neck and shoulder but the dragon's momentum sent them both tumbling to the ground with all of the weight of the huge beast falling on top of him. He felt all sorts of unsettling pops across his body and a blinding pain from being crushed beneath the damned thing; moments later the dragon crawled off him and crawled along the ground, leaving a thick trail of blood staining the snow behind it. Serana ran forward, both hands out toward the beast and channeling that red-tinted spell.

The dragon shuddered, snapped at her weakly, then slumped to the ground and bled and died. Ralsten was only faintly aware of the dragon's soul entering him as he gingerly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, panting and hurting in ways he'd never felt before.

Snow wafted up as Serana threw herself down beside him. "Are you all right?"

"I don't think...I broke anything...but that really hurt," he panted. He couldn't lift his head to look at her and had to stay there hunched over the snow for some time before he felt like he could move. Everything ached but his ribs especially so; very carefully he moved to retrieve his sword from the dragon's remains then Serana helped him to slowly make his way back up the stairs to the wayshrine.

The Prelate there did not acknowledge them; on the inside of the shrine the walls seemed to be portals to other areas - probably the shrines they're already been to - but it still blocked the wind and acted as a fully sheltered structure. Serana helped him lower himself down against one of the walls that wasn't a shimmering portal, then sat beside him anxiously.

"I'll...I'll be fine," he managed weakly, smiling at her. "I just need to sit here a bit."

"You're just saying that to make me worry less."

"Did it work?" he asked with a tired chuckle.

Serana just shook her head and stayed at his side, staring out into the blowing snow as he rested.

#In Your Hands #iyh #In Your Hands ch 11 #serana #dragonborn #bosmer #dawnguard #vampires #Ralsten #Gelebor #AU #Skyrim

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