I toss and turn, quaking. Drops of cold sweat cover my skin. I try to listen but cannot hear. I try to see but cannot understand. The voice roars so loudly but floats just out of reach. Then the words, the same incomprehensible words, spear through my soul from beyond:
"OFAAL DEZIIL"
My eyes snap open as I wake with a start. I put a hand to my throbbing forehead and sigh. Another vision. I've had them all my life, but they've been coming more and more frequently as I've travelled further north. I rub my temples and sit up, shaking off the headache always brought on by these visions. I have been waiting my entire life to understand one of them, any of them. To know the meaning behind the strange words uttered in my dreams. I do not know what words they are - I can never recall them while awake. In the way of dreams, I only recognize them while sleeping. I had gone to the best priests in Alinor, but despite days upon days of prayers, rituals, and spells, I was never given a solution. Instead they finally sent me here to the embassy in Skyrim, telling me only that Elenwen would have a job for me. Today, I find out what this job is that I've been sent here to do.
I get up, dress in the provided uniform of hooded robes, and head downstairs for breakfast.
"Ah, Zelda. How nice of you to finally join us." Elenwen's voice drips with derisive sarcasm. "We were just finishing up here. See me in my solar once you've eaten." I nod politely and take a seat at the far end of the table. I had overslept because of the vision, not incompetence or negligence, but this is not the proper time or place to argue that point. One by one the others filter out as I eat. The last to leave is Malborn, who gives me a small smile on his way out when he is sure no one is looking. We seem to be becoming friends despite only meeting yesterday. Something about our mutual distaste for cruelty - and for Elenwen - formed a fast bond between us. My father would not approve of my making friends with a wood elf - nor would most others here, for that matter - but I've never held to the racist ideals of the other highborn nobles. I mean, at least wood elves are still elves.
Once I am finished eating, I head for Elenwen's office as instructed. I walk in to find her talking in hushed tones with Rulindil, one of her highest ranking justiciars. She looks up as I walk in and straightens, saying "Zelda. Late again. I'm afraid I am occupied with other matters now. Take that file on my desk there, and if you have any questions, don't bother anyone important with them." And with that she turns back to Rulindil. I give a slight bow, take the file from her desk, and quickly leave.
Back in my room, I begin thumbing through the file. Most of it appears to be annotated excerpts from a book entitled Lost Wonders of the Ages, Volume 3. On the whole it seems to be a collection of myths, rumors, conjecture, and some minor scrying and prophecy, all related to eight divine relics once owned by Pelinal Whitestrake. I raise an eyebrow in surprise. Few today recognize that name, and I wasn't aware there were any holy relics supposed to be connected to his legend. He is infamous in myth as the bloodthirsty warrior-king who drove the elves out of Cyrodiil in the first era. The legends and rumors referenced in this file seem to imply that he did so using armor and weapons forged for him by the Divines themselves, which is ludicrous. The Aedra would never have endorsed such a monster. This must be human propaganda. But apparently a set of eight relics does exist, as according to this they were collected by the laughably named "Knights of the Nine" at the end of the third era, and then used against us in the Great War thirty years ago. The Knights fell, of course, but the Dominion soldiers were unable to recover the relics before they were taken from the battlefield and hidden. It seems they were brought north to Skyrim and scattered all across the province, and now it is my job to use the information in this file to track them down so they can be destroyed.
Well, at least it's a worthy goal.