Chapter 1

Clauviir sat within Ebonheart's council room, his orange fur sticking to the velvet fabric of his specially-made throne. His eyes drifted towards slumber, and he attempted to give the illusion of attentiveness by propping his head up with his fist. He tried not to sleep, but his mind continued to drift towards the keep's crossed windows, illuminating the room in a deep yellow hue. What choice had he but to sleep through yet another violent, slander-filled meeting between the Dunmer Great Houses? Telvanni accusing Redoran kinsmen of murder, Redoran attacking their councilors for not keeping their wizards in order, Hlaalu claiming Telvanni illegally took control of so-and-so land… it was a redundant process. Clauviir, at one point, thought the defeat of Dagoth Ur would resolve their petty differences, allowing them to come together and make themselves something better. 'What brings men to be so indifferent?' He thought, his chin sagging even further into his upright fist, 'All this effort, for 20 damn years, and not a single thing has changed…'

His eyes sealed tightly after that thought. He gave a sigh, subtle and unnoticeable he thought, and yet he felt the presence of someone watching him. He tried to open his eyes, but his efforts were for naught. Quiet whispers came echoing in his mind, which sounded like that of an old woman. He attempted to decipher the sounds as they grew louder. His eyes, which were only in sight of the black of his eyelids, came upon a blinding aurora of colors. His body then seemed to be floating in mid air within the rainbow clouds, and yet as he turned his head, he did not see his body. As the surroundings manifested, the whispers finally became coherent.

'You give yourself no credit, Nerevar,' the familiar voice echoed, 'almost all Imperial influence has left Vvardenfell with your victory, and my people's livelihood has never been better. You cannot just end their irrational pride with a single swoop, but you may with patience and decisive action.'

'Azura… how long has it been since you communicated with me in this way?' Clauviir said jokingly, 'I must say that I've missed your input.'

'Whatever bliss you feel is a natural reaction to my presence, of course. Let me remind you that you cannot disallow your logic within my mind; not even for an instant.'

'Yes yes, I understand,' Clauviir sighed, shaking his head, or whatever it was in his current state,' the fact that we are back here makes me feel something importance is about to happen, something which I should pay extra attention to.'

A body of a Dunmer woman drifted into his sight. She wore a thin white dress, and her body seemed to only be a silhouette of human, further emphasized by her piercing ruby eyes. She smiled calmly, and brought her hands out to the sides of his eyes, as though caressing a baby's head.

'It is not my place to tell you what can and will happen in the next few days,' Azura said, 'There were many things you should have done in the last 20 years, although you have also done many good things as well. All small things are important to the future, so long as they form together en masse to create a greater effect. What I will tell you is that particular effect is coming soon, and you must be prepared to act accordingly. Do not try to stop it, as you have for so long.'

'Stop what, exactly?' Clauviir attempted to his body around, but the colors around him blinded him from a sense of distance. He frowned, turning his head back to Azura, 'You equivocate on every event. Can't you just end this? Wouldn't it be for the better?'

'Absolutely not,' Azura said, closing out her ruby eyes and shaking her head, 'One needs a sense of confusion so they are compelled towards a mystery. If I had told you on that prison boat that you were Nerevar reborn, would your first reaction to be to work yourself into Morrowind, to become Telvanni, to join the Imperial guilds, the legion, or the temple? No, you probably would have frightened out of your mind and hid, or you would have ran into the Ashlands without any fighting experience and gotten yourself killed. This is the same situation; understand that, and perhaps all will go well.'

'Then I will allow events to go as they should,' Clauviir said, 'However, I will not wait patiently. If I affect anything, it will only be an accidental interference.'

'I know exactly what you want to do,' Azura said softly, 'You wish to see how Vivec fairs. Though I know nothing I can say will stop you from caring, I hope you realize he cannot be saved. His body has been destroyed by Lorkhan's heart, and so his death has been sealed. Although I am surprised he has lasted even this long…'

'It is through my care, Azura,' Clauviir said briskly, 'He is deserving of a peaceful end, at least. You have to understand that.'

'I could, but I choose not to,' said Azura, 'I am not a mortal, even if I think in a similar way. He played god wrongly, and I have no empathy for such an action. He happened to be the only mortal who used such power for some good. If he had not, well… let's say that Morrowind would have been a smoldering ruin, either from the non-actions of a hermit like Sotha Sil, or a power hungry villain like Almalexia.'

'You are right, logically,' Clauviir said haughtily, 'but since that is not the case, I will give him my full support. I don't get the impression that my interactions with him have been a detriment to this future event, either way.'

'It has, perhaps, been the leading cause to its quickening,' Azura said, 'or it will be…'

'What are you whispering about?' Clauviir called.

Azura's eyes widened, as though hit with sudden insanity. She looked towards Clauviir with her mouth gapping, and screamed out to him:

Bring forth the three bloods of the land

Spill them upon each other with a single swipe

They will sear the land which they stand upon

With a hidden dagger

With an honorable blade

With mystical fire

They will send with them the foreign swine

They will call upon a demonic legion

They will cry upon the shoulders of their kin for aid

Upon engagement, the law of the land is no more

Beasts will be mounted

Steel will be planted

Ash will ignite anew

All hope falls in the aftermath of destruction

She gasped loudly, her eyes closed and body slumping backwards, as though trapped in a sleep-like state.

'The time has come,' Azura pointed towards him, the tip of her finger shining brightly, 'Go, my child. Destiny will follow, however good or ill.'

Her finger tip flared, blinding his eyes. He growled at the burning brightness, and his body fell into the bottom of the twilight miasma.

He reopened his eyes to find himself on the cold stone floor of Ebonheart's keep. He looked up quickly to see he had fallen out of his chair, and to see the entire council looking down at him in confusion and humor. A dark blue hand came down to him, open-palmed. Clauviir followed the source to Master Aryon, the councilor who adopted him, and the one who took Clauviir's leadership position after the battle at Red Mountain.

"I'm glad to see you active, at least," Aryon whispered, smiling, "I would never be so harsh as to ask for input during these terrible meetings, but anything done by you breaks this mundane, unentertaining feeling they've molded. Here, push up…"

Clauviir had underestimated the weight of his armor, feeling the weight of the Daedric upon his spine as he pushed up. He looked towards the angry eyes which made up the council hall, calling to them in a tone of embarrassment, "Please, continue with whatever you were saying."

"It matters little," Athyn Sarethi said with a tinge of annoyance. He had become the new head of House Redoran after the death of Bolvyn Venim. Although he seemed relieved to take up this position, he also seemed to disdain the manner of his death. It was a well known fact that, even though Venim had kidnapped Athyn's son for political reasons and the fact that he hated outlanders, attempting to prohibit them from getting higher positions in his house, that Athyn still respected Venim's past leadership. "This meeting is finished. We will look over the rightful ownership of the Shishi land deed in the next meeting. Until then, Azura watch over you."

Clauviir grinned, looking at the ground as the councilors left the keep in an asocial order. He looked at the two sheaths around his belt, which held the blades Hopesfire and Trueflame. He had learned to wield the two during his training in Akavir. Holding two blades at once during combat seemed so foreign that the sight of them unsheathed frightened even his closest friends. They represented his role as the Nerevarine, perhaps even his superiority over the people of Morrowind. Though that thought process is unusually conceded, this pride gave him the strength needed to lead the unruly Dunmer people.

He looked back up to see that most of the councilors were out, even Aryon. A few stragglers stayed back to talk to each other, and of course, the duke of Vvardenfell, Vedam Dren, stayed in his chair patiently. Clauviir came up to him with a smile.

"I swear Vedam," Clauviir said, "Will there ever be some interesting topic or event brought up in these things? Since the beginning, all I've ever heard from these people is 'rogue Telvanni' or 'unchartered mines'."

"Well, I've gotten used to that sort of talk," Dren said, pushing himself off his chair, "I guess I'm just tolerant of my people; though, it's not like they've earned that right. We all know you don't listen here, and we've come to appreciate your actions outside. Surely there's no one that could argue against all the smuggling operations you've destroyed single handedly."

"To be honest, I just go out there when I'm bored of the cities," Clauviir laughed, avoiding eye contact. He knows what he does is helpful, but the fact that he hasn't the effort to achieve perfect disposition with the heads of the country, even after 20 years, made him feel like a reprehensible person. "I was going to ask you, actually, if there were any more rogue bases set up. You seem to get that information faster than the Great Houses they work for."

"Oh, well I haven't gotten any new information on that," Dren said. He patted Clauviir's shoulders and grinned, "Honestly, with your reputation, any rogue of bandit thinks before setting up smuggling operations, even around the Ashlands!"

"Hmm…" Clauviir looked down and Dren's dust covered ebony boots, which still seemed to shine a dull purple even through the unkempt look.

"I have heard something that maybe of important to you," Dren said as he let go and walked towards the stairway to his throne room, "Rumor has it that Vivec plans on making a speech to his people today-"

Clauviir's face shot up. He clenched his fists and quickly came towards Vedam. "He's in no condition to do such a thing. That's ridiculous… the rumor probably has no basis."

"It probably doesn't," Vedam said, turning to Clauviir. He stared at him as though he was equally frightened, attempting to hide it yet failing to, "You're the only one who can truly find out, either way."

"Yes, I know…" Clauviir swiftly turned and started to run towards the keep's exit, "Thank you for telling me. And keep me informed of anything else, silly rumors and otherwise!"

"Sometimes, one has to be a gossip monger in order to understand one's people," Dren said, subtly waving, "Azura watch over you!"

Vedam turned back to the staircase. He stood there with his left hand pressed on the opening. 'What could Vivec possibly say to the people at this point?' He thought, 'The Dunmer either forgot about his presence… or hate him to no end…'

He proceeded beyond the stone arch, exhausted by such a thought.