Act XI: Now, Listen To My Voice

4E, Thirteenth of Second Seed, Tirdas

The day was incredibly slow. Perhaps too slow for me. I was so used to just letting time pass and have its way with my life. But not now. No escape, no redemption. I just prayed to whoever would hear me that I be saved from my cruel fate. And as Frea and I neared the Skaal Village, I felt nauseous. Not that the food from Master Neloth was bad, but the very thought of being unable to escape Miraak's clutches because of his spell made me nauseous. But I know it is too late for regrets.

We finally arrived after what seemed to be forever. Storn and his fellow shamans were at the village's center as usual as Frea called his attention. Immediately, he got up and strode over to where we were. My skin was feeling icy, as if Miraak had a hold onto it already. Was his spell getting stronger?

"Father, you must help us!" Frea said. "Almeria…she is…she is cursed!" "Cursed?!" Storm said, aghast. "By who?" "By Miraak." I answered. "He cast some spell on me that can make him see what I see. He made me his eyes…" Those very words made tears run across my cheeks as I try to stifle the sobs that had already escaped my lips. Storn gave me a fatherly embrace as he took me back into the cabin.

After providing me with a loaf of traveler's bread and soup, Storn eyed me with concern. Much more concern than my own father could give. "This…spell, that Frea was talking about, do you remember how Miraak cast it on you?" "I was…" I began. "I fell unconscious… I was dragged into Hermaeus-Mora's realm, and there I saw Miraak awaiting me." My words were stuck in my throat. What should I say next? That Miraak kissed me? That he wanted me so much he cursed me? I have…no idea. Storn offered me a cup of mead to warm myself. "Please, continue on. I am sorry to force you, but I must know what happened so I can find out what spell it was." the village shaman said as he took a bite out of an apple that was sitting on the table.


"I was at Tel Mithryn with Frea when this happened." I said, recounting the horrid events as I went. "I fell asleep, and I was taken to Hermaeus Mora's realm. And there, I found Miraak, seemingly awaiting my arrival. And it was there…" It was there that maniac violated me, took my freedom. "It was there that he kissed me…ensnaring me with his curse…" Storn eyed her thoughtfully, with a tinge of sadness and pity in his blue eyes. The poor elf had gone through so much.

"That spell is quite old." he said. "Judging from the nature of it, this comes from Herma-Mora's forbidden grimoire of spells." There it is again, that name. Hermaeus Mora. I cannot believe that amalgamation of horrors reared his ugly head into this. As if my dilemma could not worsen, I had keeled over all of a sudden, my head hitting the floor hard. Before all had gone black, I heard Storn and Frea call my name, their voices fading into oblivion.

Here I was once more, in the grim, twisted lair of the Daedric lord of Forbidden Knowledge, and my ruthless warden, Miraak, seemed to await my arrival. "It did take you long enough." He said with contempt. "But that matters not. Come, Redoran noble, I have need of you."

"To what do I owe the pleasure then?" I ask, sarcasm dripping in my voice as I walked beside him. But that would be my undoing, for the much stronger Dragon Priest grabbed my throat and hoisted me up in the air.

"Best watch your tongue, elf." He hissed. "I may not be so kind to you next time." Kind? Ha. This was no kindness. This was mad, insane torment he had bestowed on someone with no connection to him. What I would deem an act of kindness right now would be the removal of the curse as well as Azura passing judgement onto this wretch's soul.

Spots were forming in my vision when Miraak put me down. "Hold your tongue, while I still permit you to use it." he hissed as he and I arrived at another room filled with books. "This is what I have summoned you here for."

"A reading lesson? I've had one too many back in Morrowind." I shot back, but was met by a vicious backhand to the face, making me stumble nearly halfway across the room.

"Insolent little elf." Miraak said, striding over to where I was and picking me up by my hair. I treasured my locks! He had better watch himself with those! "I show you mercy by not killing you and spite is what you give me? You are a very ungrateful slave."

SLAVE?! HE JUST CALLED ME, THE DAUGHTER OF HOUSE REDORAN'S HEAD, A SLAVE?! THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS! OUTRIGHT PROFANITY! Oh if I had some power right now, which I unfortunately do not, I would incinerate his corrupt soul where he stood. I am no one's slave! I am an elven noble!

Then, the Dragon Priest handed a book towards me. It was a dusty old tome with a red cover. "Here. Entertain yourself. As my slave you have free reign of all the books that you see. You might find this one… rather interesting." He said. Curious, I opened the book to see its contents.

Lo and behold, they were the inscriptions that had been branded on my arm. The words were Miraak's mantra: "And when the world remembers, that world will cease to be."

"A herald of Miraak's return…" I muttered to myself. I had wished I brought that dagger with me, so I could peel off the skin that contained such macabre verses, but who knows what enchantments that vile priest had put in that branding. From now on I must be wary of whatever I do, for the arcane prowess of my foe is something I have never encountered.

"Enjoy your reading, Almeria?" Miraak asked, a book in his hand as well.


"I most certainly do love reading." I answered with a bit too much sweetness. "Takes away the troubles of being damned."

Instead of another physical punishment, Miraak merely sat beside me and continued to read the book he was holding. What was the meaning of his act? Was it a ruse to lower my guard? My confusion had never been greater, ever since the day I had to decide whether I wanted to be a soldier or a mage.

"Does my presence irk you so, fahliil?" he said, almost teasingly. "You better get used to it. I am your master, after all."

"And as I have said, I am no one's slave." I grumbled as I skimmed to the next page of my book. The only response I got from that vile scum was a low, deep chuckle.

"I have a question for you." I said, and the masked priest turned his head to my direction. "You called me 'zaam' before. What does it mean?"

"It means 'slave' in the Dragon tongue." Miraak answered. "That is what you are to me, after all." That sardonic statement was followed by another chuckle. That was the straw that broke the dragon's back. In my blind rage I pulled off his mask and slapped his face so hard his neck twisted.

"What is the matter with you?!" Miraak roared, tossing his book aside and picking up his mask. "Your action just now is highly unacceptable!"

"Pah! And being cursed is reasonable?! Get over yourself, you were getting on my nerves!" I shouted back. "What you did to me has no honor in it, not even a shred of it, whatsoever!"

Miraak strode over to me quite menacingly. He hadn't put on his mask yet, so I got a very clear glimpse of the fury in his eyes. "Give me a reason not to snap your neck and kill you, elf." He hissed into my ear.


"Because you would lose your eyes to the world." I answered. I knew it held no merit, for he could always find another, but it seemed to have struck a nerve in him. Pity.

"You have no sense of gratitude in you, do you, elf?" he said. "Well, we can fix that." He grabbed the book I was reading and threw it carelessly aside, and pinned me to the wall. His face was so close to mine, our lips were almost brushing. "Need I always do this so you would learn?"

I had raised my hand to slap the man, but he caught it in an iron grip. Any tighter and he would've broken my wrist. "Remember your place, elf." He said. "And remember who your master is. You obey me and no one else. You bow to me and no other king. You are no monarch here, but a mere slave, my plaything."

"I AM NOT YOUR PLAYTHI-!" But before I was able to finish the whole phrase, Miraak crushed his lips onto mine with such a force, it seemed like he had never kissed a woman before. A moan of satisfaction erupted from him as his hands descended onto my waist, then my hips. By the Three, this man is violating me! I struggle to break free from the hold, but his grip on my hips is too strong. Instead, I bit his lower lip with enough strength to make it yield blood. He immediately pulled away with a furious glare towards me.

"Go back to your world." He said with a wave of his hand. Pure anger was in his tone. "I am not done with you… This is just a reprieve, you miserable wench." The world began to swirl in black once more, and I was awake in Storn and Frea's cottage.

"Are you alright?! These blackouts are growing more frequent, and longer with each occurrence." Storn said. Frea fetched me a mug of water, which I drank with much vigor.

"I'm sorry I blacked out again. Miraak has been calling to me ever so often… out of spite." I said. "And I had found out what these letters meant." I showed them my arm, with the Nordic letters branded. One look and Storn's worry grew even more.

"This phrase prophesised the return of Miraak." He said. "We must stop it. At all costs. To be honest, even with the All-Maker Stones purified, it is merely buying time… at the best." Buying time was not the best solution. It made me shudder to think that reciting that incantation in front of the All-Maker Stones was merely to delay what seemed to be the inevitable.

"I have to return to Raven Rock." I said. Frea met me with an incredulous look. "I must return there. I still have my mission to accomplish. And Governor Moravyn must be informed of the situation."

"With your condition right now, I would strongly go against it." Frea said. "But since you are very determined to do so, then I shall accompany you. We leave at first light tomorrow. For now, you must get some sleep. You do not want to look like a draugr in front of your people now, do you?" She was right. I needed the rest. With all these blackouts, these sojourns to Miraak and the fact that he was coming, I needed to get whatever strength I could.


I can no longer recall how long it had been since I first set out here to Solstheim. One moment I was discussing with Jarl Balgruuf about the Gray Quarter, now I'm fighting for my life and the lives of all who are here against a force that seemed so unstoppable. I never fathomed that I would be in such a fantastic predicament. Fantastic… and so grim at the same time. If this is how the Dragonborn or the Nerevarine had felt when they faced their own trials and tribulations, I salute them for their iron resolve, for mine seems to be slipping with each minute.

My eyes had finally yielded to the sweet mercy of sleep. It was quite blissful; no nightmares, no flashing images of Miraak or Hermaeus-Mora's lair, and I do not hear that infernal chanting anymore. It was as if Fate allowed me a momentary reprieve from my troubles. But it was only for a moment, because the dreaded voice of the vile Dragon Priest Miraak had echoed in my head once more… "Now, listen to my voice, elf. I am coming, and you can do nothing to stop it…"


I know it's been awhile... So here you all are... As some of you who have been reading His Blackened Feathers and Her Red Wings (RE fanfic) know, the reason of my eternal delay was because I gave birth, and had been sick after as well, so I will do what I can to update :))