Chapter 569: Vyrthur the Patient
"Yeah, that's gonna need some stitches." Michael mutters as he looks over Saeko, her limp awkwardly contorted body just laying there in the snow.
"Is there anything we can do to help her? I've never seen someone injured this badly before and survive..." Serana asks.
He nods, "Should be, it's easier since she's a Werewolf." he says, pulling a few health potions from his inventory, along with an ominous-looking ebony dagger.
"Make her drink these." he hands over the potions before grabbing her hand and placing the dagger into it.
"What's the dagger fo-" Serana asks while doing as she's told, only to pause when Michael forces Saeko's hand to stab him in the stomach. From the wound the blade grows red, causing small crimson lights to flow from him and into Saeko in much the same manner as a Drain Life spell. During all of this, Michael was also casting some healing spells, seemingly ignorant of the pain he should be experiencing.
"W-what?... Is that a vampiric weapon!?" she blurts out, accidentally spilling a bit of the healing potion onto Saeko's cheek.
"It's just the best way to get her back on her feet... Otherwise, we'd have to cut this adventure short, that or leave her at home... But I'm not risking myself doing that..."
"Why not!? She might not even wake up today!"
"Because I'll never hear the end of it if she misses the 'Boss Fight'."
Serana goes silent, leaving the duo with only the sound of the wind... Until the sound of Saeko's bones clicking and cracking as they force themselves back into place deafens them. Even for a vampire, it was grizzly business.
It takes around an hour for Saeko to completely heal, and ten minutes more to wake her up... This was thankfully made shorter by dunking her head in the ice water nearby. Of course, they'd had to spend an equally long time trying to stop her from cutting them up in response... Even if it did look slightly light she'd gotten off on the painful experience of almost dying...
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Arch-Curate Vyrthur was a vengeful man, one who could a grudge for however long it took to reach retribution... He was patient, scheming, smart, and confident, bordering on arrogant he admitted.
He was also passionate and dramatic, so when he heard the two dragons outside of his domain being slain, he knew his target was near. His etching of the prophecy into history was his greatest accomplishment yet, while he hadn't directly manipulated the Elder Scrolls, he'd manipulated the world which they were based on, forcing the false prophecy into reality.
The Tyranny of the Sun, his plot to get revenge on Auriel for damning him to this... Existence. He was infected with this blight by an Initiate from his Chantry, which should have been impossible on the face of it. But he'd had faith at the time, Vampirism was unheard of among any faithful of the Aedra, it was simply impossible to fall to it as long as the god disallowed it.
Which he why he was shocked to find, not a week later that he'd succumbed in the night and transformed fully, the rays of light that usually warmed his abode burning him with the intensity of fire.
Auriel had abandoned him, knowingly left him in this state despite his prayers to the contrary... HE WAS THE ARCH-CURATE! ONE OF AURIEL'S MOST FAITHFUL, AND THIS IS HIS REWARD!?
All those years slaving away to reach this position, to become one of the closest to his god, and yet he was thrown away like that!?
It didn't take a genius to realise that Auriel had plotted to put him in THIS state. No creature of the night could pass the trials, no creature of the night would ever be accepted by the Chantry, and no creature of the night could have reached him without Auriel's hand in it.
It'd taken millennia to overcome his weakness to the sun, thousands of years of constant, agonizing pain burning under the sun's tyranny. Yet he sat still, in his throne waiting for the Daughter of Coldharbour to arrive and realise his self-made prophecy.
He gives a fanged grin as he feels the approaching... They were nearing the Inner-Sanctum... He was so close he could taste it.
He'd dreamt of what he would say to them when they arrived. He dreamt of what he'd do...
*BAANG!*
The doors to his throneroom are blown open, allowing three figures to confidently stride inside.
Vyrthur stands from his frozen throne and holds his arms out, "Did you REALLY come here expecting to claim Auriel's bow!? You've done exactly as I'v-*GHUK!*" he's interrupted a person blurs forth and punches him so hard it launches him through his throne and through the wall behind that.
"FOO-"
*Thud!*
The mortal companion of his target punches him again with what felt like the force of Auriel himself, cracking the bones in his face, his teeth, and causing foul blood to spatter everywhere.
No matter, the mortal would regret this sneak attack, he'd just-
*Thud!*
"Another punch!?" Vyrthur mentally exclaimed as even more bones in his face crumbled. How surprising it was to face a mortal of such strength! Was this how they defeated the dragons!?
Regardless, he would still fall beneath his mig-
*THUD!*
His head flattens with the next punch, cutting Vyrthur's thoughts short as his brain struggles to repair itself.
"Uh, I might've hit him too hard..." the mortal mutters in... Embarrassment?
"Damn it Michael! I wanted to at least get a kick in on this piece of sunbleached shit!" the Daughter of Coldharbour angrily exclaims... Perhaps Vyrthur could use this to his advan-
"Oh, look he's not dead yet... Too bad for you, Serana has a LOT of pent-up emotions to vent."
Things weren't going as planned...
*THUD!*
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