I
The Imperial City, Cyrodiil
_4E, 211_
Three men, Imperials, finely dressed, walked hurriedly along the cobble paths, under the shadows of the three towers of the Imperial Palace, shadows cast by a heavy handed sun. Two of the men were dressed entirely in red. Their robes were trimmed with gold and around each of their necks hung a medallion. A pendant and a badge of office, the Amulet of the Elder Council was one of the most cherished items a Chancellor possessed. It was this amulet that flopped callously around with both of the men's long strides. Between them walked a younger man. He was dressed in even more finery than the others.
His Imperial Majesty, Reman Mede, Count of Anvil, of Kvatch, King of Colovia, and the Nedes, Seneschal of Morrowind, Ja zu Ja of Argonia, Emperor of Tamriel, and Rightful Ruler of Men and Mer, was flanked by his advisors. To his left walked High Chancellor Darius, to his right, the Imperial Justice, Marcus Vetaro. It was the former, who had become the closest of allies to His Majesty, that saw the familiar burning in Reman's mad eyes.
The burning, Darius knew, was a gift, and a curse. Dragon Emperor he was not, but the same fire that drove the Septim line was present in Reman Mede. The drive to create for your progeny a greater world, the drive to forge in the heat of battle what cannot be achieved in the courts of honeyed words, the will and the strength that had cemented for him the Ruby Throne not 5 years ago, all was present today in the sheen of his gray-blue eyes.
Through the heavy iron-bound doors of the guard's tower and downward to the lowest levels of the prison complex below, none of the men spoke. It was only when they arrived at the fully metal barricade did a single phrase break the silence of the space. "Open it." ordered the Emperor. Two watchmen instantly obeyed.
"Your Majesty" Vetaro began, "allow me first, there is no telling what this mad-man has planned."
The Emperor responded with an affirmative nod.
"Search the room" Vetaro told the guards upon entering the dark cell.
The chamber was damp. Walls cobbled with stones that were wet and cold to the touch. The higher floors of cells had small windows to let in faint slivers of light, but that was a luxury not afforded to these, the lowest tier of prisoners. The only illumination was from the lanterns on the walls, dancing an orange light across the whole of the space. The cell was grim, but empty of threats, as the guards reported.
Pointing to a shambling mass of rags, that sat slumped in the corner, the Justice commanded again. "Now him," he guards complied quickly. They pulled the mer to his feet. The sound of chains jangled as they pressed an aging Altmer against the frigid wall. His rucksack hood fell from his head, reveling his tired face.
Deep wrinkles ran across his face like canyons across the landscape. Thin white hair, mangled together in grease and dirt, hung like a curtain frame past his pointed chin. He was old, clearly, but in his eyes, a wildness could be seen. They were the same white shade as his hair, a sign of his blindness, but despite his affliction, he still stared forward at Vetaro, as if he could actually see the swarthy Imperial. It made the Chancellor extremely uncomfortable.
"He's bare" a guard declared.
"Of course I am," the elf croaked,"I brave the seas of change and death, to reach your shores. I throw myself to the feet of your mercy, blind and broken. You think I come to kill?"
"We don't know why you're hear" responded Vetaro, "you refuse to answer my questions."
"I speak only to he who sits the thrones of once-were kings, as I have said, as I have said"
"What do you have to say to him? The Emperor, why would he bother with you?"
"A question indeed. Like so many it has been asked wrongly. Not 'would' but 'has', why has he bothered with me?" The elf turned his head slightly, so that he would be looking past the Chancellor. If he could indeed look anywhere, he would be staring at the face of the Emperor. "Why have you come, Mantel of the kings?"
"Your Majesty!" Vetaro snapped, "You address the Emperor of Tameriel, and you will show him respect!"
"It's fine Marcus," stated Reman, who brushed past his advisor into the cell. He drew close to the Altmer, and the elf skilled knowingly, bearing a set of yellow, rotten teeth. "Melenea Kalaron, there was a time you a great scholar…and now look at you." He scoffed. "What brings you all this way? Why have you come to me?"
"I come to see, to listen, to learn."
"Learn? Learn what? Have you been sent to spy on me? Are the Alinori planning an attack?"
"Ha!" laughed Kalaron,"Ha! Ha! Oh, oh yes! Ha! Ha! The Thalmor are planning an attack! Ha! Ha! Ha! But they wouldn't send me to spy! Ha! Ha!"
"They are! Where? Where are they planning to strike!" the Emperor grabbed the prisoner's garb and ceased his laughing.
With a somber face, Kalaron spoke. "The towers…it was always the towers…"
"The towers? You mean the palace? They are going to invade the city again?"
"Oh yes, oh yes, but they don't know that yet. Others will fall, and then they will see, they will know, they will understand…even champions lie…eternally. Ha! Ha! HA! HA! HA!"
"Dammit! Stop with these riddles, elf! When will they strike!"
The Altmer again ceased his cackles, "Oh not for many years…not for many, many years. But, they will come, and another gem will fall from the tower, it's falling cracking the weave of Nirn…" his voice trailed off, as if he was remembering some found memory of his. Reman would have none of it.
"You said you were here to learn. What information did you seek?"
"An answer, only an answer,"
"An answer to what?"
"To what? To a question of course! Ha! Ha! HA!"
Reman slammed his fist into the low, wooden table near his side."I said enough! You will tell me why you are here! You will tell me what you know! You will tell me whatever in Oblivion I want to know!" He slammed his fist at each syllable off his last phrase. It seemed to work, as the elf visibly shrunk and began to speak quietly.
"I came to see you…you are the answer I sought. I see now….the answer, is 'no.'"
"No to what?" gritted Reman.
"You have read it, haven't you? My masterpiece, you have read it?"
"Your book? Yes. I've read your book. It was entertaining, for the ramblings of a mad-man."
"Oh, mad I may be, but ramblings they are not. They are the visions that took my vision." The elf seemed like he was about to laugh, but then quenched the chuckled in his throat. He continued, "So you know of what is to come?"
"I know only what you believe. My faith is harder earned."
"Is it now? Well, if you say so…But you still come here, why, if not for answers of your own? Why come see an old mad-man, soon to die, if you truly don't believe?"
Reman clenched his jaw. "Tell me the question."
"You first…your majesty," Kalanor gave a sarcastic bow, and bid the Emperor to ask. He didn't, at first. He let the silence hang still.
The sound of far off rattling could be heard. Each man's breathing, their heart beats, was deafening. From beyond the threshold of the cell door, Darius stroked his short beard. The sound of fingers through hair, was even loud compared to the deadness of the room. Finally, Reman spoke.
"How, how can I stop it?" he asked, and Kalanor smiled again.
This time, he did not show the yellow rows of teeth that filled his mouth. This smiled was closed. He looked grandfatherly. He looked like a wise man, a teacher, basking in the glow of success, as his dimmest student finally comes to great and profound understanding. "You know my answer."
Reman nodded, "I can't…"
"No. No you can't. You are not that one, you are not a dragon."
"That one? That one! There is someone, then? There is someone who can stop it!"
"Oh yes, oh yes. The sundered ways of scrolls comes at the will of One"
He will birth herself and raise him as her daughter."
"I said, no, riddles."
"But that is who she is, a riddle. His chorus off pitch. Her place is gone from the story of us, a spirit of the lost, unknowable, unknown." The elf began to rock himself back and forward slowly. The words that poured from his wrinkled lips seemed to physically hurt him. Still, Reman pushed forth.
"Enough. Who is this person?"
"He comes without intentions, no name, or truth or lies, a story told not, but for one moment…"
"Moment, what moment? Tell me who this person is!"
"The dragon can perch once, once in the life of the unknowable." Kalanor closed his eyes in agony. "He perched once here, in this place."
"Dammit! Tell me!"
The Emperor grabbed the elf and shook him once. When Reman let go, the prisoner collapsed onto the floor and continued his ramblings. "She is the agent of none. Sheo's love to those who stare into the Kalpa, for we are of it, and it of us. We are the scrolls who read the scrolls, but not her. He is free. She is unbound. A pawn, a king, a hero born again? We do not know. We of him know nothing, but for one place…"
"What place! Where will I find this person! Who are they!"
Kalanor shot upwards against the wall, as if recoiling from a flame. He pressed himself backwards, blind eyes full of terror. "I see him!" he screamed, "I see the snake as he comes for me! Born a thousand times, dying a thousand more. In the shadow of the tower, freedom, a new birth in the shadow of the tower! He is coming! They know he is coming! They come for him too! No!" The elf curled himself up into a ball, head between his knees. He wept out, "This prison, this prison! If only not to know the walls that surround us! Braided hair, blood on sands, snakes, the snakes! The traveler must choose! He must choose to fly, choose to slither. If not, if not…" he turned up, as if to face Reman, "If not… they will choose for him."
Emperor Mede was taken aback by the sudden shift in the elf's demeanor. He had heard the mer was mad, but he had never imagined this. The once great scholar of Alinor, now sat before him as a broken mass of disjointed ideas. He took one last look, then turned to leave. "He's as bad as they said" Darius said while Reman, he, and Justice Vetaro made their way back to the Emperor's study.
"What do you expect? Have you read that garbage he wrote." responded Vetaro.
"I have, but I assumed it was propaganda, written to instigate elves against the Empire."
"Not quite, he was actually in contention with the Thalmor at the time, wanted even."
"So said the Thalmor,"
"Indeed. I agree, the thought had crossed my mind as well, the timing was convenient, but it seems the elf was being genuine."
"A troubling thought…"
"You don't believe his madness, Darius, do you?"
"I cannot say for certain. I can say though, that there are those, men and mer alike, who do. It would be wise to consider the ramifications of outright dismissal."
The two men went back and forth until they reached the Imperial Palace Proper. By the time they arrived at the study, and the Emperor took his seat behind the large, ornately carved mahogany desk, the conversation had shifted to the budget of the Imperial Watch, the central charge of Justice Vetaro.
"Certainly, Chancellor Darius, you see the importance of increasing the lend to the Watch."
"I do, but the Treasurer says we do not have the coin, next year, perhaps."
"Next year it may be too late. We need at least a hundred more men, along with arms and armor, or we will have to start abandoning the guard of some roads."
"Charge it to the Counts! I find it absurd that we guard the estates of the nobles who are endowed with the protection of those very same lands."
"I would, however the lands in question are Kvatch, and Anvil, the nobles you speak of are infact his Majesty alone."
Darius turned to the Emperor, who was away in thought. "Your Majesty, what do you think?"
"Hmm?" questioned Reman, who hadn't at all been listening.
"The Watch, Chancellor Vetaro says your western counties are lacking in funds and men."
"Oh, right…how many would they need?"
"No less than a hundred." the Justice answered.
"One-hundred?"
"At least, Your Majesty."
"What do you think Darius?" asked Reman
"I think we should look into the affairs of Baron Nerae, see where the incomes of Anvil are going."
"You think he may be miss managing the treasury?"
"I cant say for certain b-"
"Perhaps, Your Majesty, if I may interpose," Vetaro said, "perhaps, we could pull some troops, from the front, perhaps?"
The Emperor scowled. He bore his mad eyes into the Chancellor's face. "Is he insane?" Darius thought to himself, "has he completely lost his mind?"
"Pull troops, from the front?" His Majesty repeated, "You tell me to pull troops from Argonia? From Elswyr!"
"Yo-your Majesty, only meant that-"
"That I should abandon my people? That I should leave them to the devices of the Thalmor, to the tyranny of the Elves!" He stood up in a rush and slammed his palm on the desk. The sound of his hand on the wood thundered through the room.
"No, no, of course not your Majesty, only that-"
"Out! Get out! Now!" More slams accompanied Reman's barks. Vetaro stuttered in response.
"R-right away Majesty," he whimpered" my deepest apologies, Your Majesty." The Imperial scurried away with a bow, not even taking time to give parting honors to Darius or to collect his own books.
"What was he thinking?" Darius wondered silently, "To suggest such a thing in the presence of the Emperor, perhaps the old Altmer's madness had rubbed off on him."
"Sarded fetcher" swore His Majesty, spitting a little towards the door as the words came out, "I don't suppose you agree with him? Do you, Darius?"
"Of course not Your Majesty. It is a disgraceful idea, one I will ensure is not repeated amongst the other counselors"
"See to it that you do." Reman huffed and brushed back the furs of his Imperial Garb to sit once more. He rested head, moved his hand to his chin-as he so often did when he was thinking-and began to rub the thin, brown stubble he let grow there.
Darius knew that look, and gave Reman a moment to speak himself before he asked him what troubled him. When a long enough time did pass, the High Counselor inquired."Is something that matter, Your Majesty?" he asked.
"The sow-born elf…"
"Indeed. What exactly was it about him that bothers you?" Reman turned away. From atop a shelf, and from a stack of tomes, set between to dragon-shaped ends, he pulled a tan book.
It was not large, or overly thick. It had no title, or markings on the front nor spine. In truth, it was the dullest and most unassuming thing in the entirety of the Emperor's study. Still, it was worn. Frayed pages and wrinkles in the cover showed a well used life for the book. Darius knew that it was one of His Majesty's most frequent reads, as much as the Emperor did despise its contents.
Today, Reman had again grabbed the book and flipped through its pages. He stopped at a red cloth marker and began to read. "Then I walked with the two, as they traversed the body of Lorkhan." he recited, "I felt it in that moment. All men were gone from the world. COIASIRA O'MER, the age of elves, had descended onto the lands of Nirn." He closed the tome. "What about that doesn't bother you?"
"It is fiction, Your Majesty. Do not let the stories of an insane Altmer bother you so much."
"What does it matter, true or not? The people believe it. How many mer have I put to the sword, how many of these cursed texts have I burned? Yet still, there are those who praise Kalanor in secret. And now, the false prophet himself comes to the shores of my Empire." Reman waved the book at Darius. "Mark my words" he warned, "this 'story'-this, 'Cenoda'- it will be spark that lights the fires of war within The Empire."
"And what does Your Majesty think, of the things the Altmer said today?"
"Humph-the riddles. I can't make sense of it."
"He seemed afraid."
"He did."
"I only mention it because, whether or not any believe these myths" Darius picked up the book and dropped it again, "I think it would be a benefit to Your Majesty if to find the one who could strike such fear into a man like Kalanor."
Reman smiled "…I would have to agree…"
