Foreword:

Almost fifty years after the Oblivion Crisis and more than four years since the events of the Infernal City, the story begins. A Dunmer receives a powerful vision. An item of great value has resurfaced in Tamriel. Soon it will begin the journey of return to the hands of its creator. However, the manner of that journey promises to confound the comprehension of the mortals involved.

Authors note: With some artistic license, all reasonable effort made to maintain general parity with canon established in Oblivion, The Infernal City/Lord of Souls, and Skyrim.

Rated M for mild adult content.

Although it should go without needing to be stated, let it be said: Bethesda owns The Elder Scrolls and all related materials. I am merely contributing my own interpretations in a public forum and no profit is derived or intended from my work.

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Additional note: The story follows on from "Accident and Destiny: An Elder Scrolls Novel". Some effort has been made to allow this story to function as stand-alone. However, I recommend reading the previous story for a more complete perspective.

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Evening Star: An Elder Scrolls Novel

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 1

Loredas the 7th of Frostfall 4E48

It was almost midday, but the cold wind that blew across the mountain had chilled the Dunmer through his dark robes. The chill had made it seem as though it was closer to either dusk or dawn. The mild warmth of the autumnal sunlight had made some difference, but only so much. Still, it had been far worse during the previous day. A light snow had persistently fallen throughout all of that day. Fadren Verelas had endured that icy irritation as he made his way up the side of the mountain. His prominent nose had peeked out from the front of his hood and seemed to bear the brunt. Even though the snow had remained fairly light, the brisk winds had made it seem far more harsh. That snowfall had persisted throughout the evening, only finally easing and giving way to clearer skies during the morning.

The mountain was one of the lesser peaks in the range dominated by Mount Anthor in the north of Skyrim. Fadren expected that the mountain probably had a name of its own, but he didn't know what the Nords called it. In truth, he didn't really care. To his mind, there was only one thing of importance about the place. It was the location of the shrine to Azura.

That shrine had been constructed some years earlier by Fadren's countrymen and women after they had fled the destruction in Morrowind that followed in the wake of the eruption of the Red Mountain upon Vvardenfell.

From Fadren's understanding, it had taken a good number of years to complete the construction. Although he had heard of it before, it was his first visit to that location.

Presumably, the tall stone statue that represented the Daedra in her female aspect would have taken some considerable time to complete. The statue towered above the relatively simple stone shrine. The figure stood quite tall, representing Azura as a woman of pleasant appearance. The posture of her form seemed to imply a benign bearing. The arms casually outstretched, holding the symbols of the crescent moon and the star in each hand.

The final ascent to the shrine was marked by a series of simple stone steps and platforms, before reaching the uppermost platform where the shrine itself remained open to the skies above in clear view of the tall statue.

Down by the base of the steps, were the remains of a structure that had fallen from the mountainside some years earlier. Fadren had assumed that it must have been some sort of shelter for those that constructed the shrine, and for those that came to offer worship. It truth, he did not know of the details.

Fadren was somewhat surprised to learn that he was alone when he arrived. He had expected that other worshippers or priests might be there. Perhaps, it was Azura's will that no one else was present.

As he had trudged up the mountainside the previous day, he had been considering the past and the circumstances that led to that day. Fadren had been born just outside of Blacklight, in the north of Morrowind. That city was situated near the northern coast upon the mainland, not actually upon the island of Vvardenfell, but just across the waters of the Inner Sea. He was born in 3E429, just four years before the beginning of the fourth era. He was only ten years old when the sky fell over Vivec City and the Red Mountain erupted, raining destruction down upon all of Vvardenfell.

Fadren was among the many survivors that fled Blacklight. Many had departed the city by sea. A great number of the city's children were loaded upon the trading vessels leaving the main port of the northern bay. Fadren had been amongst them.

Many other evacuees had set off across the land headed westward. They travelled by any means available. Many of them upon foot.

The city of Blacklight had not been destroyed outright by the eruption of Red Mountain. The great wall of water that rushed across the Inner Sea had not quite made it all the way across the peninsular of land just east of the city. However, Blacklight had soon been rendered effectively uninhabitable. Firstly by the noxious gas cloud that slowly drifted across the greater region, and secondly by the dark ash that rained down upon the land. By the time that it had finally reached Blacklight, it was not quite the searing hot ash that had burned much of Vvardenfell. Nonetheless, the cooler ash that fell across land had still brought lasting devastation to the region.

Fadren had soon found himself landing upon the shores of Solstheim. It was that day that he became just another of the many orphans from Morrowind. At the time, he did not know for certain that he had lost his parents. However, he never saw them again. In due course, he came to believe that they had perished before leaving their home in Blacklight. If something else had happened, he had never come to learn of it. Fadren had lived out the rest of his childhood upon the island of Solstheim.

After the destruction of Vvardenfell, the long-standing enmity between the Dunmer and the Argonians had turned to terrible opportunism. The Argonians had invaded the south of Morrowind and waged war upon the broken province. It had seemed that the amphibious reptiles of Argonia held no interest in colonising or ruling over the land.

The Argonian armies had merely driven the Dunmer from their lands. It seemed no more than cold revenge for the years of slavery and other injustices inflicted upon their people by the Dunmer of times past.

It was rumoured that the Argonian forces were driven by the Hist. The Argonians ingested a mind-altering sap that came from the mysterious trees that they claimed were possessed of a mystical intelligence.

The Nords of Skyrim had never been friends of the Dunmer. Often, it was quite the opposite. However, with a measure of poorly disguised intent, the Nords had taken advantage of political opportunity in a different fashion. Skyrim had relinquished the long disputed claim over the island of Solstheim and ceded the land to the Dunmer refugees from Morrowind.

Fadren had been shuffled about from family to family throughout his childhood. He had passed just as much time living in the orphan houses of the Solstheim settlements. He had eventually come of age and struck out upon his own. Fadren had taken various labouring jobs throughout his youth. Mining and shipping were the prominent industries of Solstheim, so there was plenty of work of that type for those that were willing. He had remained upon the island of Solstheim until his early thirties.

When Fadren was just a boy, the colouring of his skin had been a much paler shade of gray. During his later youthful years, that tone had darkened notably. In part, an effect of the time that he passed working under the sun, his colouring had become a darker shade of gray, with just a tinge of greenish-brown. His dark hair and unkempt beard made his colouring seem even darker. Of course, his blood red eyes had remained the same shade of most Dunmer.

When Fadren had finally left the northern island behind, he had firstly returned to the mainland by ship to Windhelm in Skyrim. After a short time, he had travelled eastward upon foot. He had sought out his fellow Dunmer in the north-west of Morrowind. Even though none had spoken of it, he had thought that he would learn that his people had returned to the homeland. However, they remained few and far between. He returned to Skyrim disappointed.

The next few years remained blurred in his memory. He had drifted from place to place across the north of Skyrim. He had taken work wherever a Dunmer could find gainful employment. He drank far too much, contributing to the blurring of his recollection.

It was not until just six years before that his path had changed to gain some kind of meaning. It was the summer of 4E42 and Fadren had found himself back at the port of Wildhelm, working at the docks upon the White River.

During yet another drunken evening in one of the less reputable taverns of Windhelm, a brawl had erupted. It was not such an unusual occurrence. It had nothing to do with Fadren. However, that did not mean that he would be able to stay out of it. Unless nimble enough to evade the activity, the slow could easily find that the fight would find them. Fadren was already full of drink and rather slow.

The brawl did not last long. Fadren had not even really been a participant. However, he had still become involved in an unexpected fashion. The next thing that Fadren knew, he was lying upon the floor with a dagger between his ribs. An elderly Dunmer man had come to his assistance. The older man had carefully withdrawn the dagger and examined the wound. He then proceeded to cast a series of healing spells over Fadren's prone form.

Of course, Fadren had survived his injuries and recovered fully. That recovery owed no small part to the prompt and skilful actions of that old Dunmer. That was how Fadren came to meet Aras Fals.

Naturally, Fadren was most grateful toward the old Dunmer. He had wanted to find some way to repay his kindness, not that he had anything of value to offer. Nonetheless, a friendship between the two had resulted from that encounter.

During the time that followed, Aras had often spoken at length of the greater days of Morrowind. Fadren had absorbed everything with great interest. After just a short while, Aras had persuaded Fadren to adopt a more sober lifestyle. As it passed, just as Fadren had been in need of finding a purpose to his existence, Aras had seemed to take an interest in mentoring the younger Dunmer.

Fadren soon learned that Aras was actually a mage of some modest skill. His healing skills had already been fully demonstrated. Fadren would later learn that Aras also possessed a variety of other skills.

After determining Fadren's undeveloped aptitude for the arts of magicka, Aras had begun the slow process of his training. He might never approach the skills of his master, but Fadren had applied his efforts to the best of his ability.

Fadren had passed most of that six-year period in the company of Aras Fals. They had travelled together to a number of locations, often returning to Windhelm. During all of that time, they had never actually visited the shrine of Azura. Aras had spoken of its location and educated Fadren in the nature of the relationship between the Daedric Prince/Princess and the Dunmer people. The intent to eventually travel to the shrine together had remained unfulfilled.

Just a few weeks before Fadren had made the journey up that mountain, the life of Aras Fals had come to an end. That end had not come about naturally. The demise of Aras was the result of a poisoned blade delivered by the hand of an unknown assassin. It had to have been an exceptionally effective poison. Not even the mage's own healing skills, combined with those of Fadren's had been enough to save him. The final words whispered from the mouth of Aras Fals were direct. "Go to Azura."

The skies continued to clear as Fadren Verelas stood by the shrine. The sun had reached its apex above, marking the point of midday. He had been contemplating the relationship between Azura and his own people, the Dunmer. After all, it was Azura's will that brought about the transformation of his ancient ancestors, the Chimer. Azura's blessing and curse marked all Dunmer with their characteristic dark coloured appearance and blood red eyes. Forever set apart from all the other races of Mer. A blessing and a curse.

Fadren's contemplation had faltered a moment. He had heard the call of a hawk in the distance. He had again considered it odd that no other Dunmer were in the vicinity.

His attention was suddenly taken by another strange sensation. He had firstly felt a subtle dizziness come upon him. His vision faltered and blurred as he gazed upward toward the statue that stood over him. The faint noises about him were replaced by an eerie silence. At first, he could hear only the sound of his own breathing. Then, not even that.

The Dunmer's eyesight faded to shades of gray, then to complete darkness. After an indeterminate time, sight and sound had returned in a manner that reflected that of a vivid dream.

Fadren could see two figures in a poorly lit room. A taller man remained in shadow, but the young woman moved into the light. She appeared quite young. She looked to be a dark haired Bosmer. One of those so-called Wood Elves, native to the land of Valenwood. He could not quite make out the taller man that remained in the shadows. Voices were raised and a struggle ensued. Blood spattered across the floor, then the image faded.

A thick forest came into view. Two figures were running through the underbrush, dodging past the trees. Fadren couldn't really tell for certain, but he thought that one of them was the Bosmer girl that he had just observed. The second figure had moved into clear view and swung about with a plain bow held at the ready. It was a male Khajiit. One of the feline beast-folk that came from the lands of Elsweyr. The cat grinned, bearing his teeth in a gleeful but menacing fashion. He was one of the Khajiit that stood upright like a man or Mer. However, his feline features seemed just a little different from those Khajiit that Fadren had seen in the trading caravans of Skyrim. His colouring seemed a light sandy colour and he also seemed to have a far shorter snout than was typical. The Khajiit had spoken, but Fadren could not hear what was said. The images again faded.

An unfamiliar city then appeared before Fadren. It seemed nothing like the appearance of the cities of Skyrim. He had no time to examine it. The face of a bearded Imperial man appeared before him. He did not seem to be an Imperial soldier. He was wearing silver coloured armour made of some sort of strange weave. The Imperial man had moved past and the image faded yet again.

A more sparsely forested area had then appeared before Fadren. From behind some bushes, he could see two Nords standing in a clearing. A man and a woman. Before he had time to regard their appearances, he heard the sharp sound of cracking thunder and he was blinded by flashes of bright light. He was confused. The noise had seemed to come before the lightning, if that's what it actually was.

When Fadren could again see, the sky had turned dark. The two moons, Masser and Secunda, were in the star filled sky. However, it did not appear to be the night sky that he recognised above Skyrim. One of the stars above had seemed to grow larger. He soon realised that it was actually falling from the sky. That star had suddenly turned dark and it landed at his feet. It had become a much smaller object than he had expected. As he gazed upon it, without fully understanding how the knowledge had come to him, Fadren knew what it was. Its form was the same as the eight-pointed star held in the hand of the statue of Azura. The object was known as Azura's Star.

The dark shape at Fadren's feet seemed to swell and grow. He had tried to take a step backward, but he was far too slow. The darkness inflated rapidly and engulfed him.

From within the darkness, a strange female voice rang out and echoed all about Fadren. "Fadren Verelas." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. It seemed as though the voice was inside his head as well all about him. Fadren did not feel the need to indicate his attention. That voice filled his entire existence.

"You will seek to return it to me." An image of the star flashed across his mind. "But not until the time is right."

Fadren understood that Azura addressed him. Accordingly, he accepted what he had been told. However, he was not certain that he fully comprehended the instruction.

"How will I know when the time is right?" Fadren realised that he had somehow voiced the question without actually speaking.

The voice of Azura responded. "You will know when the time is right." The voice of Azura had paused a moment. "You will remain in the land of the Nords for the passing of ten days. You will then travel southward to the city of Skingrad." The voice had paused for another beat. "When the time is right, you will take hold of the star. In your hands, the star will begin the journey to its rightful destination."

Fadren considered the instructions. He struggled to fully understand, but accepted the task ahead. His acceptance was understood without further comment.

Fadren had blinked his eyes just momentarily. He was suddenly again standing by the shrine with the tall stone statue looming above. In truth, he had never physically moved from that spot. The sun had not appeared to have noticeably shifted in the sky. The powerful vision had seemingly occurred as though between the blinking of his eyes.

Although some things remained unclear to him, his immediate path was certain enough. Fadren would remain in Skyrim for ten days. Then, he would journey southward to a city known as Skingrad. He had heard that it was a city in Imperial Cyrodiil. Beyond that, he knew nothing at all. Fadren trusted that all would become clear enough in due course. After all, he was following the will of Azura.

~O~