28th of First Seed, 3E 428
Delitian kept good on his word. In about a month, I heard back from the Palace, and I made my way down to the palace basement to meet with Delitian. He sat on one of the crates, and as soon as he saw me, he gestured for me to sit on the one across from him, and I did.
"Helseth has one last task for you," Delitian began, getting straight to the point. "And when this has been done, perhaps we can make arrangements for your safe return to Vvardenfell."
Finally! I couldn't help but think. It had been almost three months of this godsdamned nonsense, and if I wasn't sick and tired of it. I had had enough of Mournhold to last me a lifetime. Of course, if I wanted to find any more information about my origins - including, but not limited to, my real parents - then I knew I'd have to come back.
But now was not the time.
"You look excited," Delitian told me. "I take it you are looking forward to returning to Vvardenfell?"
Without a doubt.
"Perhaps," I replied in a cautious tone. "What exactly is it that you need my help with now?"
"We'd like you to find the anonymous writer of 'The Common Tongue' and persuade him to stop printing such obvious...lies about King Helseth."
Oh, Gods...and just how was I going to be able to do that? It's not like I was going to be able to walk up to the person writing the papers and say "hello, Sera, I'd like you to stop writing about King Helseth" and they'd give into my demands. The world just didn't work that way.
Oh, and another thing? I didn't even know who wrote The Common Tongue! No one did! Finding them would take quite a bit of work.
And lies? What lies?
"Lies? King Helseth is a poisoner, isn't he?" I asked, pointedly.
That's what A Game at Dinner said anyway, and if it was to be believed, then Helseth knew more about alchemy than simply stuffing Hack-Lo and ground Kwama Eggs into a Pestle and Mortar, hoping the results would produce something at least a little useful. And I didn't find it hard to believe, considering he tried to have me literally killed.
"Are you trying to test my patience?" Delitian snapped.
"I merely asked a question," I stated. "Are the rumors at least partially true? Why would this be coming from so many different sources if it wasn't?"
Delitian sighed.
"I take your point," he said. "King Helseth is a skilled alchemist and student of bodily processes. But it won't do to have people referring to our sovereign as a common poisoner, will it?"
I clearly wasn't going to get anything more on this particular subject, so I guess there was no point asking anymore questions and risking Delitian's anger. Or worse. Helseth's wrath.
"Fine, never mind. Do you have any idea who writes this stuff, then?"
Delitian scowled.
"When we make official inquiries, people just look stupid and assure us they have no idea what we are talking about," he told me. "We think you may have better luck - particularly if you approach less reputable citizens. People who place profit above honor."
Ah. In this city, people like that shouldn't be too hard to find.
"Now back to the matter at hand," Delitian said. "First, we want you to ask around and discover who is writing these lies. Then, we want you to find them and persuade them to stop printing these lies. The manner of the persuasion is left to your discretion."
Delitian paused, then continued.
"But you will have to be discreet, of course. We don't want to appear to be threatening the time-honored Imperial traditions of encouraging free speech."
If that was the case, why did Helseth want me to stop the "lies" from being printed? If they actually were lies, then everyone would know they were and ignore it anyway?
"Best get this done as soon as possible," Delitian told me. "I hope you get started on the investigation by Morndas. Have a good evening."
Gods….
Delitian got up, turned around, and went back up the stairs. I went in the opposite direction and opened the trapdoor into Old Mournhold, making my way back to the Bazaar.
It was horrible that I had to go through the sewers, but discretion was important to these Palace People, so what could you do?
So Morndas it was, then. That day, I made plans to get started on tracking down whoever the anonymous writer was, and Fin decided to help.
"It's not like there's anything else to do," she stated.
"Shani's busy, is she?"
"Yep," Fin replied, somewhat on a sour note. I think I had a slight idea as to why, but I wasn't going to bring it up, as it wasn't my business anyway. But it was clear that Fin had taken a liking to Shani, and the fact that she wasn't around, and had instead chosen to help Julan with Aiden's training that day, upsetted her.
I had to say, Aiden was improving his abilities. Quite a bit, actually. And I was very proud of my work with him. I didn't know how this was going to end, when the Palace decided to let me go and we all went our separate ways. I supposed we'd just have to wait and see.
"I'm not sure how easy it's going to be to find the writer of that piece of junk," Fin muttered under her breath. I had to say, I agreed with her. We had been walking around the Bazaar for a while now, asking questions, and all we had gotten so far were endless answers consisting of "nope, sorry" or "I'm afraid I can't help you, sorry." I had to wonder just how many of these people were pretending not to know what was going on, simply so they wouldn't get into trouble. Either way, it just made the job harder. Soon enough, we entered almost all the stores asking the same questions, but to no avail.
"Don't you ever get tired of this?" Fin asked me. I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing in response. I guessed Fin took this as a response to continue. "Doing all this work for the Palace?"
"Yes," I responded, bitterly. "It feels like I'm being used. I'm not entirely sure what's going on, or why I'm being asked to carry out these pointless tasks, and that worries me."
Good thing this would all be over soon. Hopefully.
By the late afternoon, there was only one place that Fin and I hadn't checked, and that was the bookstore. For the first time since I had entered, the actual owner of the store – Sanaso Sarothran – was present, and she looked up as soon as we entered the store, and smiled warmly in our direction. She didn't look too old, but not terribly young, either. She had dark, shoulder length hair, which she seemed to have a hard time keeping out of her face.
"Welcome," she began. "Is there anything in particular that you're looking for, or have you come to browse?"
"Neither, I'm afraid," I began. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fin turn to look at the books. Unfortunately, even though as you probably all know by now how much I loved books, I couldn't afford to be distracted. "I'm Ulina Therayn."
Sanaso raised her eyebrows for a second, before speaking.
"You're the one who saved Bedal," she whispered. I'm surprised she knew. "I cannot thank you enough. He's…a dear friend. What can I do for you?"
"I just need to ask you something," I said. "No one else seems to know anything. But I'm trying to find the author of The Common Tongue."
Sanaso looked momentarily taken aback by this news, and considering that paper's reputation, I didn't really blame her, to be honest.
"You…you want to find them?"
"It's important," I said.
Sanaso sighed.
"If I were looking around for an anonymous writer, I'd talk to someone who deals in writing - books and scrolls, for example. And no, I'm not talking about me. Perhaps a person with a shady reputation - like a pawnbroker."
I had forgotten about the Pawnbroker.
"Thank you for your time, Sanaso," I said. She waved goodbye and then Fin and I made our way out the bookstore, all the way across the Bazaar to the Pawnbroker's. It was one of the darkest, shadiest stores in the entire Bazaar. No wonder I hadn't really noticed it all that much. All kinds of odds and ends – ranging from jewels to old, empty potion bottles – cluttered the shelf. Fin looked around, while I stared ahead to see and elderly Argonian – whose name I later learnt was Ten-Tongues Weerhat - watching me.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
"We need some information," I replied.
The Argonian narrowed his eyes.
"I sell items, not words," he stated, somewhat coldly. I heard Fin's footsteps moving towards us. She took a very large coinpurse out of her inside cloak pocket. I tried not to frown. How in the world did she manage to get that much gold? Why would she carry it on her in this part of the city?
I suddenly then remembered that Fin mentioned that her father worked for King Helseth, meaning that her family was probably well off. But wasn't her father, in her own words, the "paranoid kind?" How could he not have noticed such a large sum of money go amiss?
Besides, most people I knew didn't carry that much money on them if they could help it, even if they were rich. Mostly because it instantly made you a target if the wrong person found out.
Ten-Tongues flashed a toothy grin as Fin dumped the coinpurse onto the counter.
"Will this change your mind?" She asked him.
He didn't stop grinning.
"New to Mournhold, are we?" He asked her. Fin's expression went suddenly became unreadable, much to my annoyance.
"Visiting from Wayrest," she replied. "Now, am I right in guessing that this will change your mind?"
Ten-Tongues nodded, and turned back to me after that.
"What is it you want to know?"
"Have you heard of The Common Tongue?" I asked. I thought I saw him roll his eyes. Or, at least as close to rolling one's eyes as an Argonian can get.
"Of course I've heard of it," he stated, somewhat haughtily. "Everyone in this city has by now, although most will never admit it."
"I'm trying to find the anonymous author behind it all."
Ten-Tongues literally snorted in response. I have to say, I was almost certainly not impressed by his contempt for me at all.
"Really? And why would that be?"
"I paid you for information, not the other way around," Fin snapped. "Now, tell us if you know anything or if we're wasting our time."
Ten-Tongues scoffed.
"Alright, fine. Here's what I've heard. I've heard that the guy who writes 'The Common Tongue' is someone named Trels Varis."
Varis?
Somewhere, I had heard that name. But I couldn't remember how, or why. I exchanged looks with Fin. Clearly she knew something, but she wasn't going to budge right about now. I'd ask her when we left the store.
"Now, unfortunately, this is not a name known to me personally," Ten-Tongues continued, "because I make it a habit to know all the names of people in Mournhold personally. But this guy I do not know. And other people I talk to also do not know. Which is noteworthy in itself."
Considering his line of work, I had absolutely no doubt about this at all. Ten-Tongues probably bribed officials for city records so he could keep track of his customers and how much he's owed. The fact that there was someone out of reach to him probably angered him to no end.
"I make the guess that this guy is well hidden, and wants it to stay that way."
"Of course he does," I muttered under my breath.
Ten-Tongues either didn't hear me, or he chose to ignore me.
"How did you even manage to hear about him anyway?" Fin asked. Ten-Tongues turned his attention back to her, and answered.
"In the Craftsmen's Hall in Godsreach," he said. "I go there relatively often, as its run by some of my best business partners. But even they seemed reluctant to tell me about him. But they do not fool me so easily. So, I think, that is a place to look."
I was only too happy to eventually leave the dark, stuffy Pawnbroker's, and back into lightness of the Bazaar. As soon as we were out of anyone's line of hearing, I turned to Fin.
"Just how much gold did you give him?"
She sighed.
"Just a bit over a thousand sept – I mean, drakes."
Really?
"You carry a thousand drakes on you all the time, do you?"
Fin sighed, but didn't answer me. I decided that even if she wouldn't answer me now, I would try to get an answer later. But now I had to focus on getting some potential answers from the Craftsman's Hall.
Godsreach was a bit of a walk away from the Bazaar, but after twenty minutes of so, Fin and I were in front of the Craftsman's Hall, and we entered together. It was a fairly large store, but the shopkeeper noticed us as soon as we entered the store.
As soon as he made eye contact with me, I shut my mouth and smiled, before approaching him.
"Hello, Dunmer," he turned his attention from me to Fin, "Breton, and welcome to my shop."
His red eyes were filled with hope. Obviously he thought I was about to buy something. And I didn't really begrudge him that to be honest. In his mind, why else would I be here?
"Have you come to order a piece of my famous custom armor?"
"Sorry, but no," I replied. I saw his smile falter instantly. "I'm actually here to inquire about a writer."
"You don't happen to know who the writer of the Common Tongue is, do you?" Fin interjected.
He scowled heavily after that.
"What makes you think I know anything?" He demanded, his tone harsh. I tried not to seem that effected by it, but I wouldn't be surprised if my smile faltered a little bit after that too.
"I heard rumors," I tried to make my response sound nonchalant. "You don't know a Trels Varis, do you?"
The shopkeeper was taken aback by my question. He clearly wasn't expecting that.
"I'm not sure what you've heard," he replied, his tone icy, "but there is no Trels Varis here. Never heard the name in my life!"
He shifted his gaze as he said those last words. It was clear to me then that he was lying. Even if Trels Varis wasn't literally hiding within this building, he clearly knew something.
"Now, unless you're here to buy something, I highly suggest you get out of my shop. Before I call one of the Ordinators."
No luck there, I thought bitterly as Fin and I left the main room. She stopped in her tracks, and stared at what looked like the entrance to a broom cupboard with a sign on the outside. I tore it off and read it quickly.
Craftsmen only: Everyone else keep out!
Fin and I exchanged looks.
"Ulina, I think we got him," she said.
Good Gods, it was as if they didn't even try to hide anything! With a sign on the door like that, someone was bound to find something sooner or later. However, the door required a bit of fiddling with. I was prepared to pull out a lockpick and try to unlock the door that way, but Fin quickly cast some sort of spell, and I heard the door crack open instantly.
Oh, if only I was good at Alteration.
"Where –"
Fin sighed.
"Later," she replied. "I'll tell you later. We have a job to do now."
Then, without another word, Fin and I proceeded down the narrow ladder into a small room. Several people were sitting at desks or cramped tables, writing away in silence. That is, until we all heard the trapdoor above us slam shut. I winced slightly as one of the writer's – a mer with messy auburn hair - looked up and didn't attempt to hide his anger that someone had discovered him. I looked up, and saw that above him was an old, rusty sword. All the better to stab people with, as it was harder to get any kind of healing if you find yourself on the edge of those.
I guessed this person in front of me, staring with angry, scarlet eyes was likely Trels Varis.
"And just what are you doing here?" He demanded, icily. "And may I suggest you make your answer very clear, because this office and what we do here is a well-kept-secret. And we wish to keep it a secret, even if it means that you do not leave here alive."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"What do you think?" was my response.
I heard him sigh in irritation, before he rose from his seat. And carelessly, too, as he accidentally knocked over his inkwell, leaving ink to spill across the paper he had been writing. He then let out an angry growl. Not that it mattered. I was supposed to stop him from writing the Common Tongue anyway.
"Are you Trels Varis?"
"Of course," was his cold reply.
"Then you need to stop printing lies about King Helseth," I said, bluntly. "In fact, you will. Or else."
Varis smirked in amusement.
"And just what makes you think that?" he demanded. "I haven't printed any lies about King Helseth in 'The Common Tongue'. I've only printed the truth. And I intend to keep on printing the truth - unless you think you can stop me."
He turned from me to Fin, and then his smirk widened.
"It appears I have not one but two special guests today," he said. "I'm surprised enough to meet the Nerevarine, but I never expected I'd be meeting the Princess."
What?
"I – Just what in the world are you talking about?" Fin snapped. Despite everything, there was a tremor in her voice as she said those words. I turned to Fin with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Oh, you know all too well," Varis turned to one of the other mer in the room, nodded in his direction, and then grabbed a bunch of paperwork from his hands. He put them down in front of us and then let out a smug chuckle.
I turned to Fin.
This couldn't be true, could it? But considering the look of shock on her face, it had to be. I mean, it seemed ridiculous, but it wasn't altogether too surprising. I should know better than to be surprised by anything at this point.
"Our mission is to expose the truth regarding King Helseth, and his illegitimate daughter is part of that truth. We simply haven't gotten to that part…yet," Varis sneered.
Fin's face suddenly went a very frighteningly pale color.
"You wouldn't," she said.
"What makes you think you can stop me?"
Fin turned to me for a second, before turning back to Varis with a cold expression.
"Because firstly of all, I know who your parents are and where they work," she stated.
Varis's eyes flickered with interest before he spoke again.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," was his response, but he shifted his eyes nonetheless.
"Your name is Varis, right?" Fin asked. "Well, I know your relatives work at the Temple. Granny and Gee-Pop Varis. The same last name is not a coincidence, no?"
Varis's expression was filled with rage, and as he opened his mouth so speak, he was interrupted by Fin.
"Secondly, and more importantly, you will stop writing about my father because I said so," she finished coldly. "If you get this information out, no one will be particularly pleased, least of all him. I'm sure, as much as he dislikes my very existence, he'll listen to me when I slip him a name."
Varis opened his mouth to speak, and looked as if he was about to rise from his chair, but closed it again and sat back down, all while rolling his eyes.
"Well, I must say, you've done your research," Varis said, while spitting the words.
"Didn't take much research," I heard Fin mutter under her breath, but Varis ignored her.
"You've located my parents. I value truth, but I value the lives of my parents more highly."
Varis turned to me with a sneer.
"Consider yourself lucky that you have a friend who is extremely resourceful, Nerevarine."
"I do," I shot back. "Now, do I have your word that you will stop slandering Helseth?"
"I will not discuss King Helseth in 'The Common Tongue'," he promised. "You have my word on that. But that does not mean we will not be reporting on other lies in this city."
I nodded. That was good enough. For now at least.
"I think it's time we took our leave," I said.
"Yes," Varis agreed nastily. "I think so, too. And now, if you'll excuse me, we'll have to relocate immediately, now that the secret of our office is spoiled."
Without another word, Fin and I left Trels Varis's office. She didn't say another word to me as we left, and waited until we were out of earshot before she dragged me behind Vacant Manor. I saw her about to ready a spell, and raised my eyebrows.
"Isn't levitation illegal here?"
Not to mention the vast amounts of Ordinators that were around, but Fin merely shrugged.
"What the Temple doesn't know won't hurt them," she offered a hand, and I took it, and watched as we rose, until we landed on the rooftop of Vacant Manor, with Fin gesturing for me to sit down. It was early evening, with the sky above us darkening. I turned to Fin, and she sighed.
"Before you guys came to Mournhold, I used to come up here and think," she said. "I found it funny how no one ever noticed me."
I thought back to the night we arrived in Mournhold, when I saw a shadow of a person climbing on the rooftops in Godsreach. Could that have been Fin? I shook the thought away, and turned back to face her.
There was silence for a few seconds, until Fin spoke again.
"I suppose you want to know more about me, then, right?" She turned to me.
I did, actually, considering what I had just heard. I supposed I should be surprised, but I wasn't. All the pieces did connect. Fin mentioned awhile ago that her father worked in the palace and was the "paranoid kind." And Helseth fit that description perfectly, although he didn't really do what I would consider "work" by any stretch of the imagination.
"I'm from Wayrest, but I guessed you already knew that," Fin began. "Helseth had an affair when he was younger, but I never knew who my mother was. I know she was a Breton, and that she looked kind of like me, if you don't count these," she pointed to her ears, which were slightly pointed – nowhere near as point as mine or other mer, though.
"I also know she was the one who gave me my name…Finola."
"How come barely anyone knows about you, though?"
"Not many people know I even exist because Helseth could have been in line for the throne in Wayrest, and Barenziah didn't want me ruining his chances, so I was hidden. Besides, I think he only considers me a burden anyway."
She let out a scoff, before continuing.
"Not that it mattered in the end," Fin spat, "as Elysana only ended up getting the throne in the end. So she sent us all back here and then he decided to try and reach for his uncle's throne."
"So you're saying he did poison King Llethan, then?"
"I have no idea," she stated. She scowled as she said those words. "I wouldn't put it past him, though. I learned most of my magical and alchemical knowledge from him. He was good for that at least."
Fin sighed, and then continued.
"There's a lot of stuff I'm just not being told or that I miss, because he doesn't want me around. He's made my life absolutely miserable. I bet if he got the chance he'd marry me off in a heartbeat, simply so I don't have to burden him again. If only he knew I had absolutely no interest in men."
"No interest in men?" I raised an eyebrow. "Just what does that mean?"
Fin laughed slightly.
"Oh, Ulina," she grinned. "Let's just say that if I was completely free to make my own choices in life, it would be a woman who I'd want to ask for my hand, not a man."
Oh, okay. For a second, I thought maybe she just wasn't interested in romance at all at the moment. Whatever. Whoever Fin was interested in, it wasn't my place to judge.
"But, then again, if I told Helseth this, I'd just get a lecture on the importance of 'family, duty and bloodlines.' What nonsense."
She turned back to me.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread this around for now," Fin said. "The part about me being Helseth daughter, anyway."
"Not even Julan, Shani or Aiden?"
"They'll find out eventually," was Fin's almost dismissive response. "It's just that…you guys have been the only ones who've treated me…like a person."
That was kind of…sad to hear, in all honesty. I couldn't imagine being that isolated from childhood until now, and having the only ones around you hate your very existence. And I thought I had it bad, to be honest. In the end, I agreed to keep quiet about it all. For now, anyway. And then, Fin and I said our goodnights.
I knew that when I went to meet with Delitian in a couple of days, I wouldn't be able to think of Helseth or The Palace the same ever again. And my opinion of all of those things wasn't really high to begin with.
"So Trels Varis is the anonymous writer of 'The Common Tongue."
Delitian didn't even attempt to hide his disgust as he said those words, shaking his head.
"Apparently so," I answered.
"And you threatened the lives of his aged parents," Delitian continued.
I shifted my gaze.
"That was actually F - my friend," I corrected. I didn't think it would be wise for me to talk about Fin here. Saying the wrong thing could reveal her identity and we don't really want that, do we?
"Ah, I see. But Trels Varis gave you his word that he would not discuss King Helseth in 'The Common Tongue'. You show fine judgement, and a light touch. We are very satisfied with your service, Ulina, and -"
"When do I get to see Helseth?" I snapped.
I had waited long enough, and had done more than enough errands for him. Now he should have the decency to face me himself.
But knowing my luck that was probably too much to ask for.
"Not now," was Delitian's curt response. "The king is a very busy man. He has many demands on his time. Besides, you have more than proven your worth. You may leave the city if you so wish."
I felt my as if my heart was about to burst when I heard those words leave Delitian's mouth. We were allowed to leave Mournhold? Finally?
"Then we're done here," I snapped.
As I turned around, making way to leave the room, I heard the sound of Delitian calling my name.
"One more thing, Ulina."
"What?" I snapped again.
This was ridiculous. As you can imagine, I was getting very impatient with the demands the royal court was making on me. Just what more could Helseth want from me? Hadn't I done everything he asked? Or was his last request going to be asking for me to steal sweets from the children of Mournhold?
I wouldn't put it past him.
"Just what more could your King want from me?"
"Nothing," Delitian said. "The King wants nothing more. It is Lady Barenziah. She has requested a personal audience with you."
What?
I raised my eyebrows.
"Barenziah?"
Queen Barenziah was the Queen of Morrowind for several years, her reign dating back to the late second era. She had been around a long time. People had written books about her, and her family, one book in particular that had been banned or censored by the Temple many times for not being to their liking. I'm not surprised. The Temple are absolutely ridiculous.
She was also Helseth's mother.
Why did she want to see me?
Of course, I had to remind myself that I was famous now, too. I was the Nerevarine. But it just wasn't the same thing. People would probably forget who I am in a few years; people wouldn't forget Barenziah for a very long time, if at all.
"Lady Barenziah," Delitian corrected. "It'd do you good not to forget proper titles. She's in her chambers upstairs. But first, we want to present you with a gift."
He nodded towards a glass case behind us, with a sword displayed in it. I peered at the sword closely. It looked like the design was daedric, and the black and red metals looked really nice together as well. That sword looked like it could do some damage.
"I give you a 'King's Oath' blade," Delitian continued. "It is exactly like those used by the Royal Guard. Only those sworn to the king's service and tested by great trials may use them. They bear deadly curses that kill thieves and traitors."
I sighed.
"That's really nice of you, but I'm afraid I can't accept this," I said.
No gifts. Not from Helseth. He had tried to kill me, and then had me blackmailed. To accept favors from him was unthinkable.
Delitian scowled, but nodded anyway. I think he understood.
"A shame," he said. "Still, there will be other opportunities to recognize the friendship and respect you have now earned. Now, The Queen Mother will see you. There is a page waiting to escort you in the hall.
I suggest you make haste."
So I did.
The page – a young Redguard woman - escorted me up the long, narrow staircase that lead up to Barenziah's apartments, before we stopped right outside her door and the she left me. I took a deep breath.
Admittedly, I was more than just a bit anxious at the prospect of seeing Barenziah. Maybe I was in trouble, and Barenziah knew it. I had no idea. After I kicked myself mentally for worrying too much, I opened her door, my eyes taking in the sight of what looked like a very lavish, well-decorated sitting room. Two Dunmer women were sitting down in separate chairs, talking.
One of them was an older woman, and I instantly recognized her as Barenziah. Her white hair had been done in what looked like an elaborate bun. She wore some very expensive robes. I was willing to bet that the money spent on those robes alone was enough to build the Ahemmusa a village…not that they'd want one, of course.
The other woman I also recognized right away, as I had met her before.
It was Balsea.
"Balsea?" I began, however, she looked dubiously in my direction and then towards Barenziah.
"I was just leaving," she stated, before rising from her seat, and leaving the room. Barenziah turned to me, with a smile.
"Well met, Ulina Therayn," she began. "I assume you've met Balsea?"
"A few weeks ago, in Godsreach," I told her, deciding now would not be the best time to go into the specifics. It certainly didn't seem like such a thing to discuss with Barenziah, but I had the feeling she knew anyway.
"She recently helped me out of a tight spot, but I didn't call you here to discuss that," Barenziah said. "I've been wanting to speak with you about other matters."
She gestured for me to sit, and I did so, before she spoke again.
"I understand you've been performing some duties for Tienius, and that you've done well."
I frowned. I didn't think I had done well, as I knew I was being manipulated by Helseth, for reasons I didn't entirely understand, but I didn't say this.
"But I believe there are other matters you should investigate as well," Barenziah finished.
"With all due respect," I began, trying to keep my tone polite. I was speaking with royalty, after all. And Barenziah, at that. If I hadn't, I was sure Julan would hear of it and reprimand me for it later. "I was under the impression I was done with palace affairs -"
Barenziah gave me a look. Her expression was almost unreadable, something I couldn't help but hate. Was it sympathy? I honestly couldn't say.
"This has little to do with the palace," Barenziah finally said. "Mournhold is a town of two minds. On the one hand, there is the monarchy, led by my son, and on the other there is the Temple, and the goddess Almalexia."
I resisted the urge to shudder once Barenziah mentioned Almalexia, remembering the last time I saw Vivec and his chilling words regarding the matter. I honestly didn't want to be the one to tell her that her divinity was now lost forever. She would probably kill me, come to think of it.
"It is hard to know whom you may trust," Barenziah told me. "While there has been no open hostility between the two, there are always undercurrents that bear watching."
Barenziah neared me and I thought I caught a whiff of the expensive perfume she was wearing.
"I would like you to make yourself known to the Temple and see what you can learn. Speak to Fedris Hler. He is a powerful man in the Temple, a confidant of Almalexia. See if you can get to know him a bit."
I raised my eyebrows.
"What are you saying?" I asked cautiously. "Does that mean you want me to spy on Helseth?"
"My time in the political arena is done, and I will not miss it. I do, however, like to know what is happening to my son, and to his monarchy. I stay interested."
Of course she was, especially considering as it probably directly affected her. I thought I caught a twinkle in Barenziah's eye. She was thinking of something, and unfortunately for me I wasn't sure what it was.
"And I think we can both agree that the tension in Mournhold and the discontent in the Temple is no small matter. For the Dunmer, Almalexia has always represented the motherly virtues of compassion and forgiveness, healing and protection, but in recent years, since the war with Dagoth Ur, she has become a harsher, more unsympathetic patron. Almalexia has changed, and many followers feel she has not changed for the better. A movement within the priesthood critical of current practices - the Dissident priests - has been ruthlessly suppressed by the Temple."
Yeah, I knew that last part. But everything Barenziah said about Almalexia was chilling. Vivec was probably right.
"So, do you have any suggestions on whom I can trust, then?"
Barenziah sighed.
"A difficult question I'm afraid, especially in the company of gods and kings. I am always here to answer your questions. Apart from me, it is up to you to decide who your friends are."
"Thank you," I said. I said my goodbyes and rose from the seat. And as I was about to turn on my heel to leave, Barenziah called my name. I turned around, slowly.
"Just one last thing," Barenziah said. "You will do me a favor and keep an eye on Finola, won't you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again once I saw a very caring expression.
"Oh, yes. I'm aware she's travelling with you."
"How?"
"I have my ways," Barenziah replied. "She can be a bit impulsive. Always has been. I must say, I'm glad she's managed to make friends with someone like you. I think it will do her good."
And with that, I finally turned to leave.
I mean, I could just up and leave Mournhold. Officially. But unofficially, the Palace had made more demands of me. To spy on Helseth. And the Temple.
I wasn't sure if I should do this or not.
"We're…we're doing what now?"
Julan's anger wasn't difficult to see when I explained the situation to him, and as soon as I finished explaining it to him, he punched a wall.
"This is guarcrap! I thought this'd be over and done with by now!"
"I'm not sure if I actually want to do this, Julan," I stated. "We can go home if we want, but –"
"But what?" He snarled. "Ulina, they're using you!"
"Maybe so, but what if leaving now is a terrible mistake? There actually is something bad going on here, Julan. And I'm the Nerevarine; I can't just walk away from all this. Besides, I still have to train Aiden. I did promise him that."
Julan didn't say anything in response, only glaring at me in a way that positively screamed rage. I sighed.
"This is Barenziah who asked me to do this you know," I continued. Julan's mouth was wide open, with him looking relatively surprised to hear this news, but he still said nothing. "I can't very well turn her down. She's powerful."
Julan and I exchanged looks for a few seconds, before I spoke again.
"It's alright if you don't want stay," I told him. "You and Shani can just go back to Vvard-"
"NO."
Julan's cheeks went slightly purple after that.
"Are you serious, Ulina? No. I will not leave you here to face this alone," Julan said. "Either we all go, or we all stay while you figure this out. And when you have, we'll go to the Temple together."
When we both crawled into bed that night, I couldn't sleep. And I knew Julan couldn't either. I still had no idea as to the full story of Mournhold, but I knew that if I stayed here much longer, we'd get caught up in the eye of this very fierce hurricane.
And one that threatened the relationships I had with my loved ones, at that.