The Priest

Three days had passed since Miraak had proposed his mad idea. Alek'sir didn't know if he could do any more rituals, but he also didn't think that rebelling would be a good idea either. Perhaps there was another option. Nobody had to know who wore the mask. It wasn't like he was an important priest anyway. Maybe elder Freiden…

Alek'sir and Miraak were Dragon Priests, which was a high honor in this society. Nobody else could speak to the dragon overlords, let alone even utter any of the names of the dragons. Even the words that meant dragon were illegal to utter. Miraak had been so dedicated to his job as a priest that he'd changed his name to match the mask that the dragons had granted him. Alek'sir was not nearly as, well, fanatical as Miraak could be. He'd chosen instead to never even reveal who he was under the mask. Nobody knew but him. Besides, the mask that he'd been given was called Dukaan, which meant dishonor in the dragon language. Who wanted to be named "Dishonor"?

Today was once more ritual for Alek'sir. As he stepped to the center of the platform and stood at the altar, he could sense trouble on its way. Usually, there would be whispers from the younger members of the congregation echoing from the massive stone columns that ran in rows through the room. The walls, which were made of large slabs of granite held together by mortar made with obsidian, usually glowed orange with the power of the dragon that ruled their city, but today the glow was faint, verging on nonexistent. Alek'sir had even had to light a few more lanterns than normal to account for the difference. He opened his mouth to speak, and the massive oak doors at the back of the room blew open.

Through what was left of the doors, a redguard man in a leather harness stepped into the room. Under the harness, his tunic clung to his bulging muscles. A chain was wrapped around each of his forearms, connecting behind his back, and he swung each end of it with deadly power. Electricity arced from each end of the chain, making burn marks wherever it connected with the floor. Rage emanated from him in waves, bringing the meek around him to their knees. His eyes were lit with a wild power. Raising his hand to point at Alek'sir, he screamed, "WHERE ARE THE DRAGONS? WHY DO THEY RULE US? WHY DO YOU MEEK LITTLE KITTENS MEW AND SUBMIT TO THEIR TYRANNY? LET THEM COME DOWN AND SPEAK TO US AS EQUALS! LET THEM COME DOWN AND HEAR WHAT WE HAVE TO SAY!"

Alek'sir sighed audibly. He knew this man; he was the only other redguard in the town, making him stand out in the all-white city of nords. He hated having to do what he would have to do now. The dragons would accept no rebellion, no matter how small.

Raising his hand, Alek'sir summoned a storm of ice to attack the man. Angrily, the man charged through the icy blast and began working his chain into a rhythm, each end swingin while the other was winding up to swing again. Panicking, Alek'sir threw up a wall of ice and then drew his dagger from his belt. Swiftly flying behind the man who now stood beating at the wall with his chains, Alek'sir readied himself for his attack. Grasping the man by the neck, he drove his dagger into the man's back, just missing his heart. The chains swung no more as his arms dropped to his sides. Alek'sir leaned in next to the man's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry my friend. You are right, but I cannot show weakness."

Having said that, he discreetly withdrew the dart that he had inserted into the man's neck, and cast telekinesis. Turning around, he slammed the now animated body to the ground, face first. Throwing a ghost sound, he made it seem as though the man had groaned. Igniting his hand, Alek'sir then plunged his flaming fist into the man's back and yanked his still "beating" heart from his body. Purple magic swirled from his body, and the black soul gem on Alek'sir's belt sucked the soul from the now limp body.

The congregation was silent as they filed past the dragon statue at the front of the room. The elders took the body out to the slab of stone behind the temple, and proceeded to incinerate it. This was the fifth zealot this year that he'd had to kill.

As the people left the temple, Alek'sir subtly summoned elder Frieden to his quarters. When they were alone, Alek'sir motioned for him to sit down. Placing his dagger on the desk between them, he said, "I can no longer wear the mask Dukaan. You have been a very loyal servant of our dragon masters, and I would like to pass the mask to you. None know who I am, nor the fact that I wear the mask, so it would seem to others that nothing had changed. Would you accept this honor?"

Frieden's eyes lit up. "Of course my Lord, I would be happy to carry on your work. If I may ask, why do you seek to pass on this honor?"

"I cannot continue to wear the mask for two reasons." Alek'sir replied. "First, I cannot continue to kill for overlords who do not deem it necessary to actually care for those who so devoutly worship them. Second, I wish to have an adventure, which I cannot do while serving as your priest."

Frieden and Alek'sir spoke for hours on the duties of priesthood and the responsibilities thereof. When their conversation had ended, Alek'sir stood and wrapped his hand around the blade of his dragon priest dagger. Raising it above Frieden's head, he uttered the words that had once been uttered above his head. The power that had once coursed through Alek'sir from his mask diminished greatly. Before, he had unlimited amounts of magical power, and was able to call the most draining of spells forth with no difficulty or repercussion. Now, the limits of his power were almost tangible. Even with the bonus that the wearing of the mask still gave him, he knew it was not his anymore, and it knew it as well. Placing the knife in Frieden's outstretched hand, he turned away from the new priest. On the table behind him, a set of steel plate armor lay sprawled. Gathering it, he stepped into his latrine and changed from his priestly robes and mask to the armor. His face was fully covered, as was the rest of his skin. None would know who he was beneath the armor, and none needed to. Stepping back out, he placed the folded articles of clothing in Frieden's other hand. Alek'sir then held the mask in both hands, and commanded that Frieden kneel. Reverently, he placed the mask on the newly appointed priest's face. They then grasped each other's forearm and embraced each other before Alek'sir headed for Miraak's temple. It was time something changed.