In the months since the Dawnguard had been reestablished, the Fortress, like the Order, had been slowly rejuvenated. Old rooms that hadn’t felt the touch of the living besides the occasional traveller, scavenger, or vagrant had been cleared of dust and debris, refurbished and restored to something close to their original glory. From the smithy and forge, to the training halls, barracks, dining hall and kitchens, as the ranks swelled with new recruits, so too did the Fortress fill with purpose.

  Gone were the days where a single roasting spit hung over a fire built in the crumbling hole in the centre of the ruined dining hall, stoked by Isran in a set of tattered, rusting brigandine. Instead the kitchens and dining hall were full of life and activity and almost fully used once more. Two full cohorts of hunters and a growing number of people who supported them now called the fort home, and as such the kitchens had been renovated to feed them all. Chimneys were scrubbed clean of uncountable years of soot, dust and birdnests to allow the ovens and hearths to cook meals, and the dining hall was soon home to dozens of freshly built tables, benches and seats constructed from locally cut timber.

  For most, the dining hall was a place of rest and relaxation, of mingling and bonding after a day’s training or returning from a hunt, and the Order’s leaders were not immune. It was almost routine for all to use the evening meals as a time to mingle, plan and strategise together and Isran and the other leaders of the Dawnguard typically did just that.

  “So what are you planning now?”

  Typically Kaius would leave Isran and the others to their dinners, but this time was different. This time Isran was left looking annoyed and with an expression that could only be described as ‘thunderous’ as Kaius had strolled over and made a point of flopping down comfortably on a chair as close as he could manage to the Order’s leader.

  “I’ll be here for a little while longer. Maybe a week or two. The training is going well and you now have a solid core of semi-experienced, but highly trained hunters under your belt. I’m quite confident that most will be able to pass on their knowledge and keep any future recruits alive for their first hunts. You shouldn’t have a repeat of the Dawnguard’s earlier issues.”

  The grunt from Isran was a sign of agreement despite the fact that he didn’t want to have anything in common with the vampire sitting at the edge of his table, let alone agree with any of its opinions. Unlike Isran though, the others had shifted slightly away when Kaius had sat at their table. Not because of any true concerns over his vampirism, but more in expectation of yet another fight between the two of them. Isran however hadn’t moved a single centimetre, glaring at Kaius the whole time.

  “That sounds like you are considering leaving again.”

  “I’ve done as much as I can, and I’ve been thinking about Dexion’s reading of the scroll. I too am in need of finding another Elder Scroll, and some of the things that Dexion spoke of has led me to believe that one of the three is in fact the one that I also need.”

  “I heard a lot of vague nonsense.” For a moment, and despite his proximity to a creature he considered a major threat, Isran’s eyes closed and he sighed loudly. “You could interpret that a hundred different ways. Only thing that stood out for me was Auriel’s Bow. That’s a powerful weapon, and with Stendarr as my witness, I don’t want vampires to get hold of it.”

  “I’m not interested in some forgotten or lost Aedric artefact. Not even the bow that created the world. I have other things to be dealing with, and Harkon and the Volkihar should be your primary threat.”

  “Well, to me, you are the primary threat. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your thralls. I especially don’t trust the bitch suckhead. When I established the Dawnguard, I intended on removing your kind from Skyrim and beyond, not running a fucking boarding house.”

  “In that case, I’d like to complain to the proprietor about the state of my living quarters. The bed is a far cry from what I call comfortable.”

  The flash of anger on Isran’s face was obvious to everyone present and the other hunters flinched in expectation of him trying to defeat Kaius yet again. Their ‘fights’ were almost as regular as dwemer clockwork and every few days he would try to slay Kaius, trialing new and different techniques, or testing one or more of Sorine’s latest contraptions. So far the worst that Kaius had shown for it was a collection of bruises, gashes, minor lacerations and a few missing teeth that his vampiric nature infuriatingly allowed him to regrow.

  Instead of attacking, Isran simply stiffened, forcibly took control of his rage and bottled it away to Kaius’s amusement. They all watched as Kaius’s grin grew larger and he rose from his seat and patted Isran on the shoulder.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “I might have received a lead regarding one of the Scrolls. It’ll take me a bit to decipher, but I’ll let you know what I find out. In the meantime, try not to have a stroke, old man. High blood pressure is detrimental to your health”

  Other than the subtle twitch in his eye, Isran’s face was a mask devoid of all emotion as Kaius stood up, turned around and began to walk away. Unnoticed to each other, the other four hunters all breathed out tiny sighs of relief at Kaius’ departure, and that they wouldn’t have to watch half the dining room get destroyed in another fruitless battle.

  Isran watched with narrowed eyes, staring at Kaius’s spine the whole time as he walked away from their table. Gunmar, Sorine, Durak and Celann were instead watching Isran, seeing the way that he subtly relaxed the further Kaius was from them until he returned to their interrupted conversation.

  “As you were saying, Celann?”

  “We’ve been getting reports from throughout the Rift of increased vampiric activity since Dexion and Florentius arrived. A lot more reports. It’s a massive increase over the norm, especially for this time of the year.”

  “Hmm. Florentius did say that he had destroyed a nest of them when he rescued Dexion. Maybe his ‘conversations’ distracted him and a couple ran off to get help.”

  “Maybe.” For a moment Sorine looked up from the inner workings of her latest weapon, habitually unaware of the looks she constantly received while tinkering with one thing or another even during evening meals. “I estimate there is a sixty percent chance the increased activity is a result of the pack that was hunting Serana. Her trail would have gone cold when she crossed Lake Horich, so I’d expect that they would be spreading out and looking for clues to her whereabouts.”

  “Chances of them tracking her here?”

  “Forty percent.” The estimate didn’t ease anyone’s concerns but Sorine didn’t notice, too busy fiddling with a sear spring as she attempted to merge a dwemer crossbow trigger mechanism with an Aldmeri flintlock pistol. Her experimentations with all things that went various degrees of ‘boom’ were almost more concerning than Gunmar’s pet, but she never seemed to notice how everyone, even those who trusted her kept a metre or two from her at all times. “I would expect that they will investigate us sooner or later. They might suspect us of killing Serana and acquiring the Scroll, or otherwise having information of her whereabouts, but there’s less than a five percent chance that they would even consider us taking her… well… alive. Let alone her coming here for help.”

  “Celann?”

  “Already on it Isran. Both gates and the fortress have been locked an hour earlier than normal of an evening, roving patrols are out searching for signs of activity throughout Dayspring Canyon, and I have doubled the guard manning the parapets during the night. Between their training and all the… uh… ‘breaches’ that Kaius has been testing us with, I’m confident we are as secure as we can be against any infiltration.”

  “Good. What about Dexion?”

  “His condition is stable and he’s still recovering. Apparently he can determine whether his room is lit or dark, so he has very, very limited vision. He’s in relatively good spirits though, and his lack of sight isn’t a hindrance.”

  “The Moth Priests do spend their entire lives preparing for blindness.” Sorine added to Celann’s remark. “They even spend most of their time and studies blindfolded in preparation for their eventual readings of a Scroll. I would still love to…”

  “No!”

  Anyone else who hadn’t spent their life experimenting with explosives, firesalts and dwemer mechanisms would’ve jumped at the way that Isran, Celann and even Gunmar all cut her off in mid sentence at exactly the same time, but Sorine didn’t even flinch. That steadiness of nerve, as well as the fact that she still retained all of her fingers and extremities were true indications of her skills and experience.

  “You can experiment on everything else to your heart’s desire, but you are not messing around with an Elder Scroll, Sorine. Especially since it seems to have finally calmed itself down.”

  Silence fell for a moment as Sorine returned to her tinkering, and Isran fell deep into thought. They, and the Dawnguard were ready as well as they could be and Stendarr damn his hide, Kaius had been instrumental in that. He still expected sabotage or something in the future from the vampire that would be highly detrimental to the order, but there was little doubt that the winter months and Kaius’s efforts had made the Dawnguard powerful. With the arrival of spring the winter snows were beginning to melt and it wouldn't be long before more than just the southern holds were accessible. Over a hundred and fifty vampire hunters were now part of the Order, and many were more highly skilled in combatting the undead than most of the Vigilants of Stendarr that Isran and the others had once served alongside. It would take time, but he now had confidence in the Dawnguard being able to scour the province of the bloodsucking monsters.

  What he didn’t have confidence in was the prophecy, and what had been revealed during Dexion’s reading of the Elder Scroll. Despite his words to Kaius, the vampire was right. Like he unfortunately seemed to be most of the damned time. All their intelligence gathering and testing had proven that the Volkihar were indeed being led by their progenitor. A four thousand year old Child of Coldharbour. A monstrously powerful creature, who like his progeny and Kaius, was likely to have a resistance if not immunity to sunlight, and Stendarr-only-knew-what-else was seeking the Bow that had created the world. The bow would need to be found, and it was truly galling that Isran knew that the vampiric dovahkiin was going to be of immense support in such an endeavour.

  “The enemy of my enemy…” Isran thought to himself, keeping his expression flat and neutral as he always did. “Will die second.”