Hello, Suilebhan here. Ehh, short chapter this time, sorry. I'll try to make the next one longer, but I'm having trouble with writing Dragonborn's main quest line, so it might also be a little short. Well, either way, read, enjoy, and feel free to review.
Ellin awoke suddenly, eyes wide, gasping. "You're awake, then?" She heard an elderly man say beside her. "It has been a long time since you have been in our village, Ellin. My daughter may not have recognized you, but I can tell who you are." Storn Cragstrider told the half-elf. "I expect Rald's life has finally come to an end, then? I told him not to go with you." The elder sighed loudly. "There was a reason you had to leave the village, all those years ago. But it seems that relocating you was not as effective in sealing back that evil as I had hoped."
Ellin clenched her fist. "So then when you made me leave six years ago, it was for nothing?! Why did you even force me from this island?!" She demanded, angered at the patronizing manner the shaman spoke to her.
"To prevent your father's return, of course." Storn said matter-of-factly. "Everything we have done has been for the preservation of the All-Maker."
"What do you mean my father's return?! I never even knew my father!" Ellin shouted, glaring hostilely at Storn.
"Of course you did. You might not remember it now, much thanks to my work, but you did know your father at a time." The old man told Ellin. "You served him and his order. You fought with him. And then you were defeated."
"What is that supposed to even mean?!"
"You knew Miraak. You were little more than his tool, but you did know him."
Ellin's pupil's seemed to shrink, as if confronted with some sort of horror. "That's not true! That's impossible! Miraak was alive during the Dragon War!"
"And so were you." Storn rose, looking at the wall, frowning. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave again. Perhaps if you can free our people from their enslavement under Miraak's will, I shall reconsider, but as of now, you are not welcome in this place."
"Fine!" Ellin screamed, opening the door to the shaman's home. "I don't believe any of that crap! I couldn't have been alive back then, that's just... Ridiculous!" She entered the cold air of the night.
"Just ask the scars upon your body, and decide for yourself." Storn replied, not even looking at Ellin as he spoke.
Ignis looked at the Dragon Priest, fear in his cyan eyes. "I am Morokei, priest of Alduin. It seems we find ourselves at an... Impasse..." The lich told the whelp, eying him curiously. "How is it that it has come to pass that I am to be confronted by one who wields power over the staff in my possession." Morokei admitted, floating before Ignis.
"Wh-what do you mean?" Ignis asked, continuing to hold his hands up to keep the barrier formed. "H-how can I have p-power over something that you have?"
"I must admit that I do not know," the ancient priest informed the young magician before him. "You have the strength of the true master of this staff, the first one to hold it. Magnus. I can see it. In your eyes."
Ignis's expression changed, from that of fright and weakness to one of realization and shock. He had gained his sight back when he touched the orb back in Saarthal. When he had touched the eye. The eye of Magnus. In his surprise, Ignis hesitated for a moment, and the Dragon Priest suddenly attacked again. At the last second, Ignis reformed the barrier, blocking the attack. Ignis shifted his feet, and a slight spark formed on his hands. He pushed his hand forward, a large clamp of thunder echoing through the massive underground chamber.
Morokei was thrown back, the electricity filling his body, draining his power. He would have smiled, had he still any flesh on the face behind the mask. He left Nirn again, this time for good, as his body turned to ash. Ignis slowly approached the pile of dust and metal that had made up Morokei, and he grabbed the mask that lay on the ground, placing it on the side of his head. The teen felt energy surge through his feeble body as his grip tightened on the staff that the Dragon Priest had used in battle. This was most certainly what the Psijic had told her to acquire.
Ignis followed the passage that led out, opening a door to find a Thalmor wizard waiting on the other side. "I don't see why Ancano was worried, you don't look very formidable." The Altmer told Ignis, drawing a dagger. "There's no point in trying to surrender, Ancano wants you dead." The elf said, lunging the dagger forward, managing to cut the sash holding Ignis's robe closed as the whelp stumbles back to dodge the attack. The Altmer had a look of confusion as he began to open his mouth, likely trying to say something, as a beam of energy launched forward from the Staff of Magnus and launched the Thalmor wizard back.
Ignis held his robes shut, his face bright red, and launched a large blast of flame from his free hand. "J-j-jerk!" Ignis mumbled, tears welled in his eyes. He grabbed a second sash and tied it tightly around the closed robes as to hold them shut again. He put the staff onto his back, looking away from the corpse of the Altmer, feeling nauseous as he thought of the charred corpse before him now.
Climbing a ladder leading outside of the ruined crypt, Ignis shivered when a cool breeze came down. He emerged slowly, whimpering a little as he looked across Labyrinthian. "I should g-get going back..."
Ellin's throat felt coarse, dried, as she screamed again into the emptiness of the southern Ashlands. She wasn't going to accept something like that. It was ridiculous. She held her hands to her temples, frustrated. She squinted a bit as the wind began to pick up again, throwing ash into the air. "This is such crap!" She shouted, stumbling a little, hostile and annoyed, her mind clouded with frustration.
"What is troubling you, friend?" Ellin heard a somewhat old, yet very defined and strong, sounding voice ask behind her. She turned around to see an old Nord standing atop a hill comprised of ash. He was certainly old, but not feeble. The man had a powerful, weathered look to him.
"I... I'm just... I'm confused..." Ellin admitted, pouting a little. The man laughed heartily, smiling widely. Hearing the man laugh, Ellin pouted again, annoyed. "H-hey! Don't laugh!"
"I apologize." The man said, still smiling. "Here, follow me to some shelter, it looks as though the wind isn't going to calm at this moment." He informed the half-elf, motioning for her to follow. "So, what is it that has you confused?" He asked as he led Ellin to a small, mostly ruined, house. He opened a trap door and showed her into a small basement. "Watch your step, I left a few reavers on the floor." He warned as he carefully stepped over the body of a Dunmer bandit.
Ellin inhaled deeply, then began hastily explaining her dilemma. The man laughed heartily, causing Ellin to pout yet again. "You seem to misunderstand what your action should be now." The man took a sip of mead from a somewhat dusty tankard. "You believe that because of the past you cannot remember, you are unable to act, because of previous actions." He took another drink. "What really matters is that you do what you believe is right now. Your past is part of you, but it does not have to rule you."
"B-But, it's so ridiculous! There's no possible way that I could be from the same time as Miraak!" Ellin hastily rebutted. The man smiled lightly while he sighed, then taking another drink.
"It is very possible." He told Ellin. "You have scars from ice on your body. Scars you try to hide." Ellin's eyes widened with shock as the man spoke. "Long ago, the ancient Nords sealed their honored dead in enchanted ice, that was all but indestructible. Only the most powerful and precisely forged tool could harvest this ice, known as Stalhrim. The Dragons have a shout that can instantly freeze an opponent, it would not be at all surprising if Miraak was able to do this, and then have his minions enchant the ice so that you would be permanently sealed." As ridiculous as the idea sounded, Ellin couldn't deny it. She knew that Stalhrim was a very powerful enchanted form of ice found in the crypts of Solstheim, and if she remembered it correctly, Rald had said her found her unconscious in a barrow near the center of the island, while he was collecting Stalhrim. What if he hadn't found her unconscious, but found her frozen? Ellin shook her head, that was impossible. It was just crazy. "There are other points of evidence. You are half-elf, but not of any mer that still walk Nirn. You have the blood of the Falmer, whom all but a few are now sightless cave-dwellers with little but hatred for all those on the surface." Ellin couldn't deny that at all. "And of course, most damning, you have the blood of a Dragon, just as Miraak before you."
Ellin was speechless. How had this man known all that? True, she had told him much in her frustration, but not that much. How had he known she was the child of a snow elf? Why did he know so much? "E-Even if that's t-true, how d-do you know all of th-that? Who are you?"
"I only know what I am meant to know." The man replied, finishing his drink. "Ah, how I do wish I could know the taste of mead as I once did." He muttered aloud, turning the tankard over to check for any last drops. "I am many things. The Rovaaniik, wanderer, is what I go by now. The true question, Suleyk, is who are you?" The elderly Nord stood, looking at Ellin with eyes long blind. He smiled briefly, before uttering something under his breath and disappearing from the girl's sight.
Ellin stood, unable to find the words to describe what had just happened. It was as if she had been dreaming, but not. And then what he had called her, just before he was gone. Suleyk. It was something she had heard so many times in her dreams, the name she had been addressed with, although it was more a title than a name. "I don't know..." Ellin finally admitted, sitting on the ground, her back to the wall. "Who am I?" There were fragments, her dreams, the strange words she occasionally spoke, but those weren't enough. They were clues, but not the answer.
Ellin sat alone in the basement of the ruined house for many hours as she awaited the passing of the ash storm. When she finally emerged, it was dusk, and the ash was two feet thicker than it had been before. She slowly trekked north, passing the Skaal Village, her destination a ruin on the northeastern side of the island. There was something important there, although Ellin wasn't certain exactly what. There were some Draugr, although nothing she couldn't easily defeat, and at the top of the small ruin, a Dragon stood perched on a word wall. It flew off, clashing briefly with Ellin, who shouted it down with Dragonrend. The Dragon was weakened, confused by the feeling of mortality briefly granted on it, giving Ellin enough time to take her dagger and pierce it into the soft spot in the beast's neck. It let out a cry of agony as life began to leave its body, and as Ellin began to absorb the beast's soul, Miraak appeared, not completely corporeal yet.
"Every Dragon you slay adds to my strength." He informed her mockingly, before disappearing. It doesn't matter, Ellin told herself, her hand clenching her dagger's hilt tightly. She approached the wall slowly, her head clearing a bit as she absorbed the knowledge it held. She knew what to do. She had to approach the stone devoted to the All-Maker that was surrounded by the structure that the enthralled Skaal were constructing, and release it from Miraak's will. She went south from the ruins, hastily running to the Wind Stone.
When she arrived, it was just after midnight, and the Skaal were still mindlessly constructing the structure around the ancient standing stone. Ellin walked past some of the enthralled workers, staring at the Wind Stone. She cleared her throat, and then released her Thu'um loudly. "Gol!" The sound echoed down the coast, Storn looking up for a moment from his meditation in the Skaal Village. He smiled a little, a small part of him knowing that Ellin had done the right thing.
The structure around the standing stone began to glow, then exploded. The water turned black, and a strange tentacled beast rose from the black depths. It roared, its very cry releasing more tentacles. Ellin charged at the beast, leaping at it and stabbing her blade where she assumed the heart would be. She found that such a normally fatal blow had little effect on the Lurker, other than angering it. It threw the half-elf off, launching her toward the ground. As she stood, she found the beast surrounded by the now freed Skaal, who overwhelmed and slew the beast. They thanked Ellin, and offered to accompany her to their village. She agreed, not wanting to be rude. As they neared the village, Ellin saw Storn waiting for the returning villagers.
"I must thank you, Ellin. You have done us a great service, so I will tell you what I know of Miraak's plan." The elder told Ellin, who looked away bitterly. "Please understand, it was my duty to protect the village. I would not have had you sent away if I had known you not to be a threat." He informed her as she pouted. "In any case, at this time, it is more important that we defeat Miraak than discuss prior actions. The most important thing to know is that Miraak derives his power from the shout that bends wills. The one you used to free our people from his control." The shaman explained, "Miraak did not attain this shout as others would, he received it from his master, the one the Skaal know as Herma-Mora, the demon of knowledge. I dislike saying this, but the only way that you can face Miraak is to attempt to learn the words of this shout as well. I advise you use caution when dealing with Herma-Mora, as his gifts always come with a price. For now, go south, to the place called Tel Mithryn, and seek the dark elf Neloth. He will likely know where to find one of Herma-Mora's books to enter for this knowledge. I wish you luck."
Ellin sighed, nodding. She couldn't help but feel as though Storn was kicking her out again as she began the trek south, but tried not to become too frustrated by the old man's words.