Simon brought Serana from the high-walled corridor to Valerica's study. Originally, these paths were collapsed and blocked, and the Vampires never had any intention of repairing them, allowing them to fall into disrepair.
Serana gently touched the objects in the study. The tangible touch gave her a kind of intimate comfort. For her, this was a secret place representing family affection. After her mother and father broke up, Valerica disappeared from Serana's life. Now it seems she never left, she was always in the castle, and it seemed she was always paying attention to her child's growth.
The arrangement of these furnishings reflected the character of the former owner of this place. It seemed to be the familiar appearance, neither more nor less, as if her mother had been here yesterday—but ultimately she was not.
Thinking of the past, the broken family caused Serana immense pain. She was caught between her parents, neither recognized by her elders nor able to understand them.
Now, her father Harkon has been killed, and she is to bring her enemy to find her mother.
During the days Simon stayed in the castle to care for the victims, he had carefully cleaned this room. When he first arrived, he saw thick dust and cobwebs everywhere. There was no difference from the rest of the castle, just like those underground catacombs.
Fortunately, the bookshelves and cabinets had been protected by magic arrays. Although the soul stone in The Core had long lost its energy, it had sustained them for a considerable number of years, preventing the books and materials from completely rotting and decaying.
Opening the portal required three materials and one key.
The materials were refined bone meal, purified void salts, and soul stone fragments.
The key was the blood of the Daughter of Coldharbour.
These were all recorded in Valerica's diary. At the beginning of the diary, she clearly expressed her disappointment with Harkon's plan, and at the end of the diary, she said she would share the plan with Serana and take her to the Darkfall Cave.
According to Serana, before she was sealed, the center of human power was still in Skyrim, and there was no so-called Alessian Empire at that time, roughly during the First Era's First Nord Empire period.
For thousands of years, Valerica has been trapped in the Soul Cairn, while Harkon was still dreaming of an eternal night. The entire Vampire faction was stagnant and lifeless.
Not only did Serana feel a sense of temporal displacement and shock, but even Simon couldn't help but sigh at how worthless time was to immortals.
The current plight of the Vampires served as a reminder to Simon. If he were to transform into a lich in the future, he must not live a mediocre life, otherwise, being a mere ghoul would be worse than simply ending it all.
After preparing the materials and placing them in the offering basin, Serana stepped forward silently, took an elven dagger, and cut her wrist. Blood slowly dripped into the basin, instantly igniting a ghostly blue fire that melted the contents of the basin into a dark, heavy liquid, which evaporated little by little. The ritual array on the ground began to vibrate, and the flagstones rotated upwards to form descending steps, revealing a dark world beneath, blazing with purple flames.
"This is the Soul Cairn," Simon sighed with a touch of melancholy. "You are going to find your mother, and why am I not also rushing about for my mother?"
The young lady, who had been coldly watching the Troll, hesitated upon hearing this. She pursed her lips and remained silent.
Simon gazed deeply at the passage, that churning pool of flames. Although it burned upwards, it had an inward gravitational pull. The moment he saw that dark world, he felt a tremor in his heart and his soul hummed in response.
In a trance, a strange auditory hallucination arose—the cold, frosty melody of a softly humming piano, a young woman intermittently singing a gentle tune, and after a long interval, a sorrowful, ethereal drum sound like the wind—this music inexplicably made Simon think of black and white photographs: a gloomy city street, a young person in loose trousers walking on a sidewalk where wind and plastic danced, leaving only a lonely silhouette. Dilapidated, dirty cars silently drove by on the road beside him, plane trees shedding their leaves one by one. The world, besides falling into winter, was also falling into a desperate night.
A great, vague will was looking at Simon, but that's not quite accurate. Simon was trying very hard to see its form and outline, but couldn't. This feeling was like: his head was pressed down, forcing him to look at the abyss, while that distant existence, in the unobservable heavens, stared at his back.
A shiver ran down his spine.
Simon wanted to enter the Soul Cairn, but was scorched by the flames. It wasn't the pain of high temperature, but a needle-like astonishment.
He came back to his senses, taking a few steps back.
Serana suddenly said, "You can't go in, unless…"
She suddenly fell silent, and Simon met her gaze.
He looked closely at Serana's face for the first time.
The long seal had not left any traces of time on her. She was still the graceful Vampire princess of the First Era, with dark golden pupils reflecting a beauty beyond the mundane, and the faint crimson in the whites of her eyes hinted at her craving for blood and her firm suppression of it.
Her features were naturally formed, but an uncontrollable sorrow and pain flowed from them—a melancholic beauty, like the heroine in every knight's tale, capable of inspiring endless imagination. If she were a real person, her expression would undoubtedly evoke empathy, making one wish to sorrow for her sorrow.
Simon thought of that question once again.
For immortals, what is the biggest difference in life?
No need to rush, freed from the fleeting destiny of shallow weeds, they can postpone things that need to be done. Such an demeanor is hard for ordinary people to imagine.
Any existence, tangible or intangible, if it possesses greatness and beauty, has divinity. Whales in the sea, elephants on land, are worthy of mortal worship.
Immortality is the prerogative of gods, and also the curse of man.
"...I don't really want to find my mother," Serana said.
"Why?"
"I'm afraid she already... I can't lose any more family members."
Humans are like a small boat on the long river of time, always facing the risk of capsizing, so they strive to move upstream.
Gods are like algae growing along the river, their delicate roots fixing them to the muddy bottom. If their roots break, how painful would it be to be carried away by the current?
Simon didn't know, perhaps not even a Bodhisattva could comprehend it.
What truly distinguishes the living, is it matter or spirit?
Serana looked distressed, "You go, I'll help you. You go and accomplish everything you want to do, and I... I don't know what to do anymore. If you see my mother, please tell her I'm well. If you don't find her, please don't tell me either."
Simon thought for a moment and "advised," "Your father isn't actually dead; he's just imprisoned by me."
Upon hearing this, Serana immediately became angry—anger and vitality surged up at once, "Hey! You didn't say that before!"
The Troll smiled, "Let's go to the Soul Cairn together. You can see for yourself whether your mother is alive or dead. As for your father, his sins are hard for even me to assess, but behind his ambition lies a deeper conspiracy. If you want to unravel it, don't dwell on the past anymore."
Serana crossed her arms over her chest and snorted coldly, "You don't need to persuade me; we're not that familiar... enemy."
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