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It was unbelievably nice to have a horse to ride to Kvatch. The trip took only the daylight, and the sun was just dipping below the horizon when I could make out the smoke of Kvatch. I spurred the horse faster, and we galloped up to the settlement.
"It's over its over! We're all going to die!" Screamed a High Elf that flew past me, away from the settlement. What in the name of the Madgod...? I jumped off of the horse and pulled aside the nearest person, a female Redguard. She looked distressed and anxious, but at least she was paying attention to me.
"I need to find the Priest, Martin. Is he here, did he make it?" Gods forbid the last heir was slain...
She shook her head. "No, very few of us did. Last I saw him he was leading people to the temple. I think they managed to barricade the doors against those creatures...but I don't know."
I nodded. "Thank you." I looked up towards the smokey sky. Akatosh, let him be alive. I ran up the hill, and as I did, the sky sparked with red lightning, the clouds becoming a sickly bloodstained ash. What was this? Something this powerful...it had to be Daedric.
As I entered the view of the city gates, I knew I had guessed right. It was no doubt an Oblivion Portal. From the looks of it, it led straight into Mehrunes Dagon's plane. A guard hurried over to me. "What are you doing here civilian! Get back to the encampment!" His face was slick with blood, grime, and sweat, and his voice could barely be heard above the crackling of the infernal gate.
"I'm not a civillian!" I shouted back. "I need to get inside those gates!"
He spared me a look of shock. "You want to get INSIDE? We've been trying to get people OUT!"
"I want to help those people in the Chapel!" I countered.
He looked back to the gate, the red hellfire illuminating his shining skin. "I wish we could, but that...that gate to hell...its blocking the doors! We could never get the people out!"
I followed his gaze, looking into the fire. It was the most stable portal to an Oblivion Plane I had ever seen. Stable or not, it could be closed. If the power source, or anchor, was removed, it would collapse. They could be using anything to power it...a Crystal Seal, an Aegis Gem, even a Sigil Stone. Gods I was glad Haskill made me read those dry books about Portal Theory. "I'll close it." I called to him.
He looked at me like he'd heard me wrong. "What?"
"I'll close the gate! Then we could get the people out."
He looked stunned, but nonetheless pleased. "It's your funeral! I'll cover you as you run in. Good luck!" I nodded, looked at the Oblivion Gate, and took a breath. I hadn't been in an Oblivion Plane for years, and something told me Dagon's realm would not be as nice as the Shivering Isles. I steeled my resolve, and ran.
The fire crashed over me, and the familiar sensation of being transported to another realm tingled over my skin. Then, I was greeted by waves of dry, sweltering air. Immediately I was sweating, and I was Dunmer. This place was inconceivable...
I looked up at the large tower, knowing that's where the power source was most likely kept. I summoned my Daedroth, and started forwards.
As I entered the Sigillus Sanguis, I took a deep breath. I was sore from running, my lungs ached from the acrid air, I'd sweat through my cloak, and I was sick of the color red. I summoned two Daedroth, and ordered them ahead. I heard the yelling of dremora and the clanging of steel on scales. Then, everything was quiet. I summoned a mace and carefully stepped forward into the sanctum. One Daedroth was waiting patiently for me, the other had been killed. Sighing, I released it's binding to send it back to where it came from.
I climbed up the slippery walkway on all fours, the ringing of the anchor pulsing into my ears. When I straightened up, I saw what the anchor was, a sigil stone. They were powerful artifacts you could use for enchanting, and also anchoring portals. Wincing, I stuck my hands into the fire and pulled the stone out. The platform shook and the fire exploded outwards, propelling me into the air. I shrieked, expecting to hit the wall of the tower.
I didn't. I landed on soft soil, raindrops hitting my face. I opened my eyes to see a light shoot upwards from the portal. Then, it was gone.
The stone shrunk in my hands, becoming small enough to fit in my palm. I thought I could still hear a faint ringing from it.
"You did it! You closed the gate!" The guard I had talked to earlier ran up to me. "I knew you could do it!" He helped me up with a grin on his face. "I'm Savlian Mattius by the way. Come on, let's get those people out of the city!" He charged ahead with his men and I groaned, willing my legs to move forward.
I entered the city behind the guards, keeping a distance away until they had killed all the scamps and clannefears. I figured I had done enough questing for the day, thank you very much. When the daedra were all dead, I hurried ahead, and entered the Chapel with the Guard.
There were some civilians huddled near the door, looking worried and scared. When Mattius told them that I had closed the gate, they all smiled and looked at me with appreciation and relief. One man came up to me. "Thank you, you have saved us all. My family will be safe because of you." He looked to the side and I followed his gaze, where a Breton woman was holding a baby in her arms. Its tiny hands reached upwards for a strand of its mother's hair, pulling slightly. She winced and then smiled, removing its little paw from her locks. The child had no idea what it had just survived. Had I really been the one to save it?
An emotion I had never felt before washed over me. I could feel tears prick my eyes. Blinking them away, I looked up at the man. "I am glad your family is safe." He nodded to me and returned to them.
I looked around the group for any man that looked like a priest, but I couldn't see anyone like that. My stomach fell. "Excuse me, are you looking for someone?" I turned to see a Redguard woman in Kvatch chainmail.
"Yes, actually. A priest named Martin. Did he make it?"
The woman looked apprehensive, and for a moment, I thought me must be dead. My heart sank and I could feel my vision darkening.
"Yes." She said suddenly. "He is over there." She pointed to the alter in the middle of the room, draped in shadows. If I strained my eyes, I could make out a dark figure, who was kneeling.
Saved from my sudden despair, I thanked her, heading over to the last of the Septim line.
The man was kneeling in front of the alter, but instead of his head being raised up, as was customary in Aedric prayers, it was cast downwards. He didn't move as I approached him, slowly. This man had just lost everything he had known, almost died...I couldn't imagine what that terror was like. I didn't know quite what to do, and I felt awkward standing there, so I sat on the ground next to where he kneeled, folding my legs under me.
We sat in silence for awhile, then, he spoke. "You asked for me." He said softly. "If you came for a priest, you're more foolish than I imagined. Look around...What good is a priest?" His voice held anguish and defeat. I didn't need an Emperor who wallowed in his own sadness. Tamriel didn't, I meant. "I prayed all night to Akatosh, but no help came, only more Daedra."
Trying to be a little more optimistic, I offered "The Chapel is still standing. Perhaps the gods did hear your prayers."
He snorted. "If they did, than why isn't the whole city still standing?"
I shook my head. "Martin, If you knew exactly who you were, you would be as thankful to the gods as I am that this Chapel is still standing."
He looked at me, bristling. "And who 'exactly' am I, then?"
I blinked, trying to figure out how to say this. "Martin...you are the last heir to the Septim throne. You are the Emperor's son."
He looked at me blankly for a few moments. Then, he chuckled mirthlessly. "No, traveler, you must be mistaken. Either that or you are pulling a very ill-timed joke. I am the son of a farmer, not an Emperor."
I sighed, knowing it would be hard to make him understand. "I am not mistaken, and I am not joking. I know it would be hard to believe if I was hearing it myself..." Gods, how could I convince him? I frowned and thought for a moment before speaking again. "A few days ago, I was a imprisoned in the Imperial city, with nothing but the clothes on my back to my name. Then, your father's escape route led through my cell. He told me to find you, sent me on this quest..." I laughed in exasperation. "I've never been on a quest before! Sheo, I just jumped into Mehrunes Dagon's plane of Oblivion to shut that gate to get to you!" Shaking my head, I looked right into his eyes. "I think this is a time of people being made into something greater than themselves."
He looked at me for along moment, then gave in, nodding. "As strange as your story sounds...I believe you. I...will go with you."
I gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Martin."
He stood up, offering me a hand. I took it and stood up with him. "What should I call you then, besides the 'Hero of Kvatch'?"
"Oh Sheo, no, just call me Abbie."
And with that, we headed out of the temple.
The paint horse patiently obliged two occupants on its back, walking a bit slower than it had on the way here. Martin said little behind me, and I figured it must be because he was thinking about Kvatch. When darkness descended before we made it to the Priory, we decided to make a camp for the night with our meager supplies.
The fire was crackling between us, and I lay on my back, looking up at the stars. The sky here I could never get used to. It was just a dull blue, with white stars pricking it. There were only two things I missed about the Shivering Isles, Haskill, and the sky at night.
Haskill had raised me when I was younger. Though created by a ritual, I was a baby when I was 'born,' as I had come out of my mother's womb. Not wanting his Champion to be raised by the half-wit's at the shrine, nor by a mere mortal, Sheogorath took me into his realm, charging Haskill to take care of me as I matured. I only stayed until I was fifteen. By that time, the Madgod declared I was fit to live in the mortal world. I don't know why he made me leave, but then, little of what he did had any reason.
During my time growing up, Haskill had educated me, teaching me all about the Daedra, the Aedra, the Madgod himself, and the state of the universe. I think he would deny any attachment to me, but I had certainly grown fond of him. And the sky...the sky had been so beautiful...full of colors and life and movement. It was amazing...
With a loud crackle of the fire, I realized that I had been missing the Isles...With a frustrated frown I banished the images away.
"They came for me, didn't they?"
I looked sideways across the flickering tongues of flame.
"I think so."
He said no more.
I sighed. "I'm really sorry. I know what it feels like to have people hurt because of you. But I don't really think it should be our fault. I mean, it's always the choice of the person inflicting the pain, isn't it?"
Silence.
I sighed and looked back up at the dull stars, shoving the desire for home down deep inside. I didn't want the Isles to be my home, and I was going to run from the truth that it was for as long as I could.
In the morning we started out for Weynon Priory, and I was surprised when Martin actually began to talk.
"Thank you, for trying to help last night." He said awkwardly.
"Ah...you're welcome." I said awkwardly back.
The silence stretched on. "So, you said you were a prisoner?"
I nodded. "I was..." I wondered what he could be thinking of me. "Not for murder or anything! I just...its a long story. The guards put me in there overnight because they said I was 'disturbing the peace'"
"Disturbing the peace?" He asked behind me.
I felt my cheeks flush. "As I said, it's a long story...maybe some other time."
"Of course."
The silence descended again.
I prayed to any Aedra, or Daedra, that could hear me that we could just get to the Priory quickly.
When we finally did get there, Eronor came running to us. "They came out of no where, they just attacked! Help, you have to help!"
My heart started beating double time. If Jauffre was killed and the Amulet taken, what would we do? "Eronor, calm down. Who attacked, what were they-"
Suddenly, a red robed man appeared from the entrance of the priory, training his sights on us. He raised his hand, and his armor materialized, as well as his mace. "Sheo! It's them!" I jumped off of the horse, and Martin followed suit. "Martin, stay behind, I don't want you to get hurt!"
I summoned a Daedroth and a mace, hoping I wouldn't die. "No, I can fight too!" I heard behind me.
My Daedroth was ripping through the red robed men, but one came running towards me. I blocked with my mace, my arms barely holding back his blow. I was not, by any means, strong. Using both hands I ripped his mace aside, throwing mine with it too. They both dissolved in midair. Before he could raise his arms to summon another weapon I lit my left hand full of electric magic and shoved it right on his face. The man screamed, twitched, and fell to the ground. I was breathing heavily as the adrenaline ran through me. That man could have killed me! A monk I had not previously met ran out of the Priory, sword in hand.
"Come quickly, Jauffre is in the Chapel!" He yelled. Martin and I exchanged glances and set off at a run towards the chapel. We burst through the doors just in time to see Jauffre shove his Katana into the stomach of the last alive assassin. He looked up at me, blood staining his robes.
"I was praying in the chapel when I heard Prior Maborel's shout, I had just time to arm myself." Looking angry and a bit flustered, he walked right past us and straight to the main building. "The Amulet of Kings must be what they came for, we must see if it's safe." He called back to us. I don't think he even saw Martin. We hurried after him, throughout the building and then up the stairs. He searched around a big room, eyes narrowed. "No, its gone..." Then with more anger in his voice. "The enemy has beat us at every turn!"
"No they haven't." I found myself interrupting. "I have Martin." Jauffre looked up, to me, and then past me, seeing Martin for the first time. The lines around his eyes loosened and he gave a thin smile.
"Than the gods have not forsaken us." His expression darkened. "Come, we must go to Cloud Ruler Temple. It is the ancient fortress of the blades. Only there will Martin be safe." He looked back to me. "You have done much for us, I heard reports of one called the 'Hero of Kvatch.' I am guessing that was you." He sighed. "You should come with us, help us protect Martin."
I looked from him, then to Martin. The priest was giving me a strange look, as if he didn't know what I would do. I sighed. "Yes, I will go with you."
Jauffre moved past us. "Then we best be off."
I smiled at Martin as I moved past him, and he smiled back.
A jolt of terror ran through me. The voices. How had I been so ignorant! How had I not noticed how silent the voices had been until now?
The cold air of Bruma blew through my cloak. We had just passed the city, and Jauffre informed us that Cloud Ruler Temple wasn't much more of a walk.
For some reason the silence of the barren, snowy landscape had made me realize the silence of my mind. The voices were gone, the madness was gone. I shivered, but not because of the cold.
Not even a whisper, there wasn't even a murmur in the back of my mind...As long as I had lived there had been something. Until I met the Emperor...Could it be his son had the same effect on me? I spared a sideways glance to Martin, whose arms were folded as he braced himself against the wind. He did look like him, if I thought about it. A younger version of him, anyways. He seemed to sense my eyes and began to turn his head my direction, but I quickly looked forward once more, ignoring his gaze on me.
Was it a good thing, having the voices gone? They were annoying, for one, disturbing, for another. However, they had been my constant companions. Sickeningly, I felt a kind of loneliness without them. Ha! My only friends were the voices within my head! Now how's that for madness...
Cloud Ruler Temple began to stretch out before us, and I was grateful. My legs were sore from the climb, as Prior Maborel's horse had not really liked walking uphill in the storm. Neither had Jauffre's. The large, too-impressive gates were pushed open and a Blade hurried out.
He looked between Martin and Jauffre. "Grandmaster, is this...?"
"Indeed." Replied Jauffre. "This is Martin, son of Emperor Uriel Septim."
One word from Jauffre and the man couldn't bow fast enough. "My Lord, it is an honor to welcome you to Cloud Ruler Temple!"
Martin looked extremely uncomfortable. "Ah, it's an honor to be here."
We all followed the Blade up the stairs, and came into a spacious courtyard lined with Blades. I stayed in the back, letting Martin and Jauffre continue to the head of the stairs.
My thoughts drifted as the snow continued to whip around us. It was certainly a storm. I never really felt comfortable in storms. Beewos had taught me that you should always leave an offering to Sheogorath during a storm, so that he would favor you, whatever that meant. I always had. It was a habit, ingrained in me from common practice. I knew, with annoyance, that I would not be able to sleep tonight without leaving an offering at the end of my bedroll.
"All Hail the Emperor, all Hail the Dragon Born!" I jumped as all the blades shouted their loyalty to Martin, their metal katana's cutting through the snowy haze.
Martin stood there, at the top of the stairs, looking extremely uncomfortable. There he was, the son of someone he never asked to be his father, thrust into a destiny he never could have imagined. And he was still standing. My heart swelled, touched by a feeling of kinship and appreciation I had never held for anyone. The man would never know how much in common he had with me.
"All of you..." He began. "I know you expect me to be an Emperor...I'll do my best, but this is all new to me..." He swallowed, looking very nervous. His blue eyes flashed down to mine for a moment, and I saw the fear in them. I smiled and waved, hoping to be optimistic for him. He seemed to take a deep breath, and went on. "I'm not used to giving speeches, but I want you all to know that I appreciate my welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days." he paused for a moment, then awkwardly dipped his head. "That's it. Thank you."
To their credit, all the Blades clapped. So did I. If I had been the one up there, I would have made a worse fool of myself. When the Blades dispersed, I made my way to Martin.
He smiled at me, cheeks still a little flushed from his impromptu speech. "Wasn't much of a speech was it? Didn't seem to bother them though."
I smiled back. "I thought it was lovely. Short, sweet, and to the point."
"Heh, as much of a lie as their clapping was!" He joked good-naturedly.
I shook my head, donning a serious tone. "No, really, it was good. Especially for someone that just found out they're an Emperor."
His face suddenly darkened. "The Blades hailing me and saluting me as Martin Septim...It's all so surreal."
I nodded. "I bet it is."
He suddenly looked into my eyes. "Don't think I'm not grateful friend, for you bringing me here. Without your help I would most certainly be dead."
I froze, looking straight at him. I was having a hard time registering...
"Abbie? Are you all right?" Martin asked me, looking concerned.
"Friend." I said simply, frowning. "You said 'friend.'"
"Yes..." He said confused. "Is that...is that a problem?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, no! It's just...I've never had a proper friend before. Is that what we are then? Proper friends?"
Martin looked...bewildered for a moment. Then he smiled, chuckling. "Yes, I believe so, Proper Friend."
Suddenly I felt a wave of happiness I bet not even Lord Thadon of Mania had ever experienced.
I was not so alone in the mortal world after all!
