Authors Note: After the overwhelmingly surprising success (and relative simplicity in terms of length) of my one fic that I published and completed – Memoirs of Moira O'deorain – I decided to delve deeper into the proverbial rabbit hole of fanfic writing so long as my inspiration lasts. I've always harbored a fascination with slight AU's and other tweaked versions of the Elder Scrolls lore and history on this site, and thus I decided to throw my hat into the ring. As with the other fanfic I wrote, I harbor no grand plans for this one beyond it being a fun exploration into the universe via the journal of one of its inhabitants, following canon but not so strictly so that I have to fact-check everything in the timeline. Not that I don't appreciate how in-depth the Elder Scrolls' lore is or anything! I love it, it's just that I'd have to absolutely destroy myself every sentence I write to make sure it doesn't conflict with the canon timeline.
"The Forgotten Vale":
"The Forgotten Vale." Now that's certainly one thing you could call the valley if you were woefully unaware of the history here – which it appears the outside world is as of now. I'd always wondered what people recalled of this place outside of the Chantry itself, and thankfully the rumors surrounding this recent traveler to stumble across our home have answered that curiosity. Not that the Chantry is truly forgotten though.
There's been quite a few Nord adventurers descended from those old Atmoran souls that've craved an answer regarding if all Snow Elves are as wretched as The Betrayed; and thus, they come by the handful every so often to investigate the rumors of an ancient valley in between what they call Skyrim and High Rock nowadays. It's always struck me as both a mixed blessing and tragedy that the races of man have forgotten us, if I'm to be honest. Once the Nord leaders' vigor for hunting down our people faded into bickering and rivalry among themselves, we lost what was our last link to the outside world. At the same time though, it bought our people a place to at least attempt to rebuild – if not simply preserve – our society and way of life in peace, so long as we stayed here long enough for mankind to forget us. Lo and behold, it appears that time has long since arrived, if the traveler's name for this place is to be taken at face value.
Sadly though I'm not permitted by Vyrthur nor the Knight-Paladins to contact the traveler, despite however much we stand to learn if a historian and mage were to compare notes with them. I wonder if this is Vyrthur's old fear of the outside world rising to the surface again or because this adventurer so happens to legitimately have ill intent for us? I doubt it. There have been many people that've stumbled upon this place over the millennia, but it's likely that no one believes what they find judging by the lack of any raiding parties coming back for another costly round of wars with us. I imagine Vyrthur will expel her from the foot of the valley soon if he's left to his own judgement of the situation.
Ah! But I forgot to introduce myself, as great historians tend to do in their journals – under the (somewhat right) assumption that their old musings will fall into a library's hands after their passing for posterity – but I digress. My name is Sindri Lorebinder, a Snow Elf who has recently been blessed to have celebrated his 24th year of life on Nirn.
Some questions and curiosities' answers I suppose are in order though. My name and age upon beginning to log my thoughts to parchment are all well and good, but some background never fails to help a reader understand whose musings they're reading – something I wish ancient historians understood as well as I do I might add. Am I one of the original Snow Elves that resided in this place since the time of the Atmorans? No. I'm simply an avid study of what history we have and an apprentice mage, ever attempting to glean some knowledge of Tamriel in its present state from what little contact we have with the world outside of the Chantry. Not that I harbor delusions of grandeur or fame – far from it – it's just nice to dream that it could happen at the very least.
I should probably get used to writing down Adept instead though. Arch-Curate Vyrthur saw fit to allow me the title and all the independent studying privileges that entailed a few weeks ago. The ceremony was as filled with invocations of Auri-El, Syrabane, and Magnus as any before it, and I was assaulted with more congratulations than I feel was necessary – even as an apprentice to the Arch-Curate himself. It's a funny thing really, to be given the title in part simply due to having an instinct for magic whereas I've known some pilgrims here that spend their lives trying to attain the rank due to lack of magical prowess themselves. The only downside beyond the sheer volume of people present was the fact I was admittedly too wrapped up in my own thoughts to notice the exact reason I was being bestowed the title.
I've always understood the principals of runes and spellbooks to the point I've been asked to copy some myself for other apprentices, but if I had to guess my promotion more had to do with my creation of new alteration spells than my talent for destruction. Vyrthur's always had a soft spot for those talented enough to create new spells beyond spewing frost or flame from their fingertips in a slightly more powerful form, and thus me creating a spell that mitigated the risk of traveling the cliffside footpaths was a welcome new spell to be introduced to the Chantry's library. I'll spare myself the chore of writing down the entire cycle of study that went into creating the spell and write down its function quite simply – it's called "landing zone," and it prevents the caster from being harmed from a fall by slowing their descent if they meet the mark of the landing circle they cast. Considering how temperamental the glaciers and valley walls can be some summers, it's no wonder there was such a high number of requests for the corresponding spell tome to be reproduced, if I'm truthful.
The night grows late, and my thoughts linger back to the traveler. I haven't even met them, and I can't manage to distract myself from the possibilities contacting them would provide. Surely any traveler would be thankful to converse – or even make a companion of – an up-and-coming mage, yes? I can imagine it now: traveling Tamriel and bringing back a treasure trove of knowledge for the libraries here in the Chantry – new histories, new cultures, the list of goes on! Stendarr have mercy on me, I need to contact this traveler before they leave, Vyrthur's orders be damned! I've got to be smart about this though.
I know that the traveler's only been permitted to stay by the Wayshrine of Illumination but is left unsupervised on Sundas when the Prelates are all off to the Inner Sanctum for prayer. That's when I must make my move. Auri-El willing I'll be able to convince the traveler to let me accompany them before Vyrthur catches wind of me going against his wishes.
The Traveler:
As Auri-El would have it, I was blessed enough to meet the traveler without any Prelates or other prying eyes noticing my short journey. Her name is Glorel. Quite the beautiful name for an equally beautiful and wise beyond her years Altmer, in this Snow Elf's humble opinion. She hails from the Summerset Isles (evidently called Alinor within its own borders, which begs the question why they don't simply rename the maps?) and has quite the storied history – of which I was more than willing to listen to, but I get ahead of myself, as I often do.
Though I imagine she was fully expecting a Prelate to return through the wayshrine later in the day, I don't think she was prepared for me to appear over the hillside if the confused look on her face was any indicator. All things considered she was rather blasé about our meeting, something I later found out was more connected to her encounters of fellow nomads than anything. I introduced myself in as friendly a manner I could, and she seemed genuinely amused by my attempts to come across as unthreatening as possible. All it took was a gesture to her Altmer-designed armor, bow, sword, and shield that were in her tent nearby for me to get what made her so at ease. It was clear to me from then on that she was more than just an ordinary traveler, but I didn't wish to pry.
Our conversation was surprisingly mundane to begin with, speaking about how my people fared in such a secluded spot in Tamriel, but quickly evolved into something with more purpose. Glorel's curiosity concerning our history surprised me, but I was more than willing to trade notes with her in terms of the past. Not only did I learn more about the outside world in five minutes with Glorel than I had from centuries' worth of encounters with travelers logged in the history books, but I learned that I had a kindred spirit of curiosity and wonder of other cultures with her. The Chantry's histories of Tamriel only went so far as the day we were forced to hide here in the valley, but now I know so much more! From the rise of an Empire led by man, to the incursions of the Daedra upon the world at least twice over, to the fall of the Dwemer under highly debated circumstances, my craving to see this new world for myself only grew.
It must have been apparent on my face too, because Glorel kindly then inquired as to why I was so curious and excited to learn of other cultures and their histories. I told her the truth – that despite the Snow Elves keeping to form in terms of the original Aldmer faith, that doesn't mean that all of us are as blind to the value of learning about the world from other perspectives as our ancient kin such as Vyrthur are. I've spent my life studying the histories we have left from the prime of our time in Tamriel, and so it's clear that interacting with other peoples peacefully often ends in a new cultural identity stronger than the one that had preceded it in history. The fact that we've remained stubbornly isolationist for millennia is more of a testament to fact fear rules Vyrthur than it is that the world would see us destroyed - at least in my eyes - and so I sought to break that trend of isolation.
She surprised me by providing me with another gem of knowledge about the Altmer after I explained myself. I will admit I was curious as to why an Aldmer's descendant would engage in worldwide adventuring, let alone be accepting of the cultures of the places she went, but I'd held my tongue out of fear of prying. She told me that the some Altmer viewed themselves as the superior race, called themselves the "Thalmor," and thought themselves to be the best qualified to lead Tamriel – no matter what the other races had to say about it. As such they slowly asserted control of the Summerset Isles with as much underhanded tactics as a foreign empire seeking to play puppet master with their foe. Their reign began benign enough, but as they slowly gained more power the Isles' own king took a back seat in terms of authority, and then came the truly worrying actions of theirs. Any dissidents were exiled from the Isles without warning – only given a reason when they were already on the boat that would take them away from their homeland. Glorel found out she was counted as one of the dissidents due to associating with the other races in Alinor and training with them when she wasn't being trained to by an Altmer instructor. Why learning multiple combat skills and fighting styles from a myriad of races – thus making a more effective soldier – is considered dissent I will never understand, but I imagine that just goes to show desperate for control the Thalmor are.
Not even a few weeks after her arrival in a forested province known as Valenwood did she hear tell of the Thalmor now executing those very same people they would have simply exiled before, now under unfounded accusations of treason. With any hope of returning home diminished beyond repair, she then began the only plan of action she had available to her – look for a new place to call home. She never really did find one, with every land she traveled to either never really feeling like home or never accepting her fully into their society. Even with the friends she made as she traveled, the fact that she was an Altmer with a unique desire to learn about wherever she wound up next was enough for people to cast her out due to being suspected as either a spy or a fool.
When she was done explaining herself I couldn't help but feel excruciating guilt for even having considered her as a simple excuse to leave the Chantry. If my original goal was to simply bring back home some knowledge of the outside world, I could very well have completed my quest right then and there and returned home with no one the wiser. No, now I had a new mission in mind, and one Glorel was thankful to hear me propose.
Auri-El has blessed each one of us with our time on Nirn for a purpose, and to find that purpose is one the greatest accomplishments one can achieve. I believe I've found mine with Glorel. No longer was this just a minor excursion I wanted to evolve into a simple traveling tour of Tamriel, now it was a mission to help Glorel find some sense of home in her travels. Call me a bleeding heart or simply overly sympathetic, but for someone so kind and respectfully curious as her to endure so much and be cast away by Vyrthur like some gutter trash qualifies as beyond cruel. Although I don't know where to begin to help her establish a sense of home on her travels, I can at least give her my company to try and give her some companionship. After all, she seems less bothered with the nomadic lifestyle than by the lack of any like-minded individuals accompanying her on her travels. Who knows, maybe my companionship and shared respect of other cultures is exactly what she needs to find peace?
Judging by the barely contained relief she disguised underneath her smile once she accepted my proposal, I believe it is.
I've managed to sneak her back home without anyone noticing, with most attending prayer in the Inner Sanctum today. She was very grateful to be invited into my home, and I told her that it was the least I could do to provide her a good night's rest and reprieve from the cold before our journey began tomorrow. With my supplies packed and Vyrthur hopefully none the wiser of my plans to leave, I can't help but feel I'm making the right decision – to help Glorel in her journeys and to help her find peace in the companionship of a friend. Auri-El willing, we'll be out of Darkfall Cave by the time anyone even realizes we're gone.