Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Thirty

A poor, mauled victim of Sanguinare Vampiris sat miserably on Warrick's examination table. Slouched, empty, on death's door... Or so he liked to think. Turns out he's well on the way to recovery actually. 

"He's perfectly fine," Tsaus scoffed, "I don't see what the problem is." 

"It's basic procedure", Warrick replied firmly, quietly, as was his way. 

Our healer handed the soldier a small basket of cure disease and health potions and sent him back to the barracks. 

"If this is all you wanted us here for, then it's a waste of our time." Tsaus was leaning impatiently against the far wall, looking scornful and acting like a spoiled child. 

"I remind you that you're not here voluntarily. Like it or not, you are my prisoners, and I can so easily throw you in a dungeon," I said hotly. 

Cahya was standing next to the injured soldier with a supportive hand on his shoulder, her spare arm holding his basket. "I think what my brother means is that is there not any other way to help? Some way more efficient, maybe? Your healer seems to know what he's doing."

"No, I meant what I said. Do not presume to speak for me, little sister, or do I have to remind you of your place?" 

Cahya seemed to shrink at her brother's sharpness, yet it made Tsaus bigger. It gave him power and superiority; someone he could control. 

"I want to think that this is your vampire instinct, though I do find that hard to believe," I commented. "Like I said, I will not hesitate to throw you into a dungeon if I have to. You are both my responsibility."  

Tsaus crossed his arms and snorted, looking the other way. He's going to prove to be a challenge. 

"My Lady, may I ask if these two make more healing potions? My stock is getting rather low." 

"Of course, it will put them to better use... Better than this unprecedented squabbling anyway. I'll help them get started."

I gestured for the vampire siblings to follow me over to Warrick's alchemy table, where piles of wheat, butterfly wings, and imp stools lie on the floor. Both seemed to know what they were doing and got to work quickly enough, though Tsaus was desperately trying to disrupt anything he could.

"Why were you around Castle Volkihar?" I asked either of them, "You're unlike the vampires in Maven's coop, so there's no way you could possibly be with her. Perhaps remaining from the otherwise wiped-out Volkihar Clan?"

They both remained silent. 

Cahya's silence was because she was unsure if she was allowed to talk; Tsaus' was pure defiance.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" 

"We were in the wrong place at the wrong time," Tsaus said through pointed gritted teeth. 

"I find that rather hard to believe."

Tsaus' sharp orange eyes, eyes that were a portal to an evening sunset, cut into mine like a dagger. "I do not care what you do and do not believe, mortal. We did belong at Castle Volkihar, once... But that was before the time of the Great War, before the Oblivion Crisis, before Tiber Septim himself. I have no care what you do to us, but it'll purely be on your poor judgement."

"Before Tiber Septim?" I gushed, fascinated. "How old are you to have seen all of that?"

Cahya looked up from the alchemy table and began to speak. "We never truly saw any of-"

The pale hand of Tsaus rose up in a flash only to halt just before it came into contact with the Cahya's snow white cheek. "Hush, sister... You never learn, do you?"