Serana stops me. Again. For a vampire, she's quite the moderating influence in my life.
Being accosted by the local guards is nothing new to me--it comes with my line of work. And I'm really not in the mood to find the easy, peaceful way out of the situation. But even as I'm running through my options--shout them into Oblivion, stab them all, summon Durnehviir--Serana puts her hand on me, forestalling yet another slaughter.
I know she means well. I've only killed two people today and Lisin's death demands more. But Serana's right--Falkreath had nothing to do with it. But that being said, what does Falkreath want with us? If they knew what we were doing in the Sanctuary, they'd be thanking us.
I say as much to Serana. "Let's hear what they want," she says. I understand caution, or at least what the word means, but this is humiliating.
The guards accept our peaceful surrender, even though I and Serana, and all the guards, I believe, know that we're only here as long as we want to be. It doesn't stop them from binding our wrists, or from Legate Skulnar taking a sharp tone with us. Since I can't keep a civil tone, Serana asks him why we've been arrested. I can think of about twenty reasons for it off the top of my head, but Skulnar settles on the fact that we're vampires.
I wasn't aware that being a vampire was a crime in itself, but I can't deny we have a lousy reputation. I guess the Dawnguard's got everyone excited for a bit of house-cleaning in Skyrim.
And yet, that doesn't seem like the whole of it. They put us into the dungeon. Now, Skulnar seems a lot more willing to talk--maybe the bars make him feel safer.
"So what are you going to do?" Serana asks. "What are our charges, specifically?"
"New Legion edict. Vampires are enemies of the Empire. Daedra worshipers and murderers, all of you."
I'm thinking Skulnar's actually got a point, but I'm sure Serana wouldn't appreciate my candor right now. I just want the guards to leave so I can get out of here without having to start a fight. Skulnar goes on, saying that the punishment isn't really worked out yet. The Empire said it's supposed to be death, but my sentence might be lightened on account of my service to the Legion. I don't know what that means for Serana, though.
Either way, there's still the matter of my new best friend.
Once Skulnar leaves and we get a moment to ourselves, Serana and I talk it over. "You've got to leave," she says. "As soon as you can."
"What? Why just me? These people can't hold us here."
"This isn't just about some crime. We can pay off who we need, but if they're targeting us just for being vampires, this isn't going to end here. The Empire owns Skyrim now--every guard in every city will be after us. Including at our house in Solitude."
"How does me breaking out help with that?"
"You still need to find who killed Lisin. I believe Babette--the Brotherhood didn't do this, or at least they didn't want it the way it was done. Go to Volkihar, and get my family to help. No one's a better hunter than a vampire."
"Why are you staying, then?"
Serana's quiet for a moment. "If I stay, it's like a measure of good faith. I can explain to them, maybe, argue your case. At least then they'll know we're not just the monsters they think we are."
I don't like the plan, but Serana's definitely the brains in our operation, and I listen to my brain. And breaking out of my prison so I can go kill some guy? That's listening to my heart.
So come nightfall, we say our goodbyes and I wait for the guard to turn around. It only takes a second, and I'm gone.
I get out of Falkreath and turn back just one last time. She'll be fine while I'm up north. Serana can handle herself.
But so could Lisin.
There is a man on the road.
I don't know him.
I don't need to.
But I know that he has a brother. I know that his brother may steal from him, this man may walk to the city to buy a knife, and he may start growing nightshade in his yard.
He might do anything. He might do nothing. He might poison his brother's livestock. He might kill his brother. He might poison his brother's entire family. His anger is rife with possibility. Like the futures of everyone in this world, his potential for chaos is limitless.
Mine is not.
Though unbidden by force of fate, I remain bound by possibility. The future is a desert, vast and unknown, and every present moment a single grain of sand.
But in the right hands, sand can be the purest glass.
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