I noticed some of the other Skaal peering out of their doorways with looks of concern, as if they could sense that something terrible was about to happen. Storn stopped at the very center of the village and turned to me.

"Give me the book," he said, holding out his hands. "I will read it, and speak to old Herma-Mora myself. I will make sure he lives up to his part of the bargain."

"I hope you know what you're doing," I murmured.

"That is my hope as well. I am trusting that you will make this sacrifice worthwhile."

I nodded. Pulling out the Black Book, I handed it to him.

"Father, you must not do this!" Frea cried as she ran toward us. "That book is… wrong. Evil. Against everything that you have taught me my whole life."

"I must, Frea. It is the only way to free Solstheim forever from Miraak's Shadow. There comes a time when everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever. Do not fear for me, my daughter. This is the destiny that the All-Maker has laid out for me."

Frea's fists clenched, but she bowed her head. "I stand beside you, father, as always."

"I am ready for whatever the foul master of this book has in store for me," Storn said, running one gloved hand over the front cover. Taking a deep breath, he opened the book.

The effect was immediate. The book wrenched itself from his hands to float freely before him. Inky black tentacles shot out from the pages and wrapped themselves around the shaman, lifting him into the air. One of them plunged right through his forehead. That was when Hermaeus Mora's giant eye opened.

"At last," the Daedric Prince cackled, "the Skaal yield up their secrets to me."

Storn twisted, wrenching at his confines and choked out, "You… liar! I won't… not… for you…"

"Father! No, stop!"

Frea ran forward, reaching for Storn. I grabbed her arm to hold her back. I could feel her shaking with anger and fear. All around, the rest of the Skaal watched the events unfold in horrified silence.

"Do something!" Frea screamed at me.

I shook my head, feeling my heart clench. "I can't…"

Hermarus Mora's massive eye turned to stare at me as he crooned, "Dragonborn, you have delivered me the gift I requested. In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion: I give you the Words of Power that you need to challenge Miraak. You will either be a worthy opponent or his successor, as the tides of fate decree."

I felt, more than heard, the Prince's voice whisper into my ear. "Mul qah diiv…"

And with that, he was gone. The Black Book let out a burst of green light and the tentacles vanished, leaving it and Storn to collapse, lifeless, to the snow.

"Father!"

Frea knelt down beside the man and shook him frantically. When he didn't respond, she looked up at me with tears in her eyes and cried, "What have you done?"

Cringing, I took a step back.

"These are dark times," one of the Skaal said in a hushed voice. "How will we get through them without Storn to guide us?"

"What does it mean? What was that? What happened to him?" A little girl asked, clearly frightened.

"He has returned to the All-Maker. He is at peace now, no matter what that evil thin may have done to his body."

A woman who I thought might have been the Village's leader stepped out from the doorway of one of the building and walked over to the shaman's body.

"Goodbye, old friend," she said. "We will miss you, but do not worry. Frea will guide us well, thanks to you."

I stayed in the shadows as I watched the Skaal, one by one, step up after her to pay their respects.

"We won't forget what you did for us, Storn Craig-Strider. Walk with the All-Maker."

"You'll be missed, old man."

"May the All-Maker guide your soul to the next life."

"I don't really understand what you did, but I trust you did it for the good of the village. So… thank you."

"Return to the All-Maker, old one. The Skaal will never forget your sacrifice."

Soon it was just Frea and I, the rest of the villagers having gone back into their homes. Carefully walking over to the Skaal woman, I said, "Frea, I'm sorry."

She was silent for a long time.

"I do not blame you," she finally said with a sigh. "I know he chose this. I just wish he had seen another way. Go. Kill Miraak. Do not fail."

"I won't. I promise you that."

Kneeling down, I picked up the Black Book and brushed off the snow that stuck to its covers. Shaking her head, Frea pointed back to what was now her house.

"Go in there to read it. You do not want to freeze."

I murmured a soft thanks and stepped into the small wooden house. It was admittedly much warmer in there, although a tingle ran down my spine at the thought of what I was going to do. Going back into Apocrypha at all wasn't exactly a pleasant concept.

And what had that Shout that Hermaeus Mora gave me meant? Mul qah diiv. Mul meant strength, while qah meant armor. Diiv, though… Dragon? Did it mean dragon? That certainly felt right. Strength and armor of a dovah? I remembered those few moments when I first saw Miraak. The Shout he'd used had given him wings. Was that what the Daedric Prince gave me? The Shout that could do that?

I opened the book.

When I blinked, the tower I'd seen during my first brief visit to the Daedric Realm loomed above me like a black shadow, reaching up towards the sickly-looking sky high above. That time, however, Miraak was nowhere to be found.

I would have to go looking for him, obviously. Fantastic.

Crossing a short bridge, I stepped up to a book set on a podium. I touched the pages felt everything warp around me.


The dark, winding, book-lined tunnels of Apocrypha led out onto an open area that looked out at the endless toxic sea. The filigreed metal that formed the floor there creaked softly beneath my boots with every step that I took. Through the haze in the distance, I saw hundreds of twisted arches rising out of the water. Some of them looked like they were moving.

I stood at the edge with my hands on my hips, staring out at them. Had I hit a dead end? Was there something I missed? I debated doubling back for a moment before I heard a loud roar coming from overhead.

As I drew my sword, a dragon swooped down and landed before me. I recognized him as the dragon I saw before with Miraak. He was serpentine, his scales a dead-looking blue color. No horns adorned his head, just a row of spikes down his back. He snapped at me with wicked, curved fangs and I jumped aside, slashing at his face. He pulled back with a sharp his and I saw the red gash that had opened across his nose.

"Stop!" I cried.

He did. Glaring at me, he said, "Miraak is the true master in this place."

"Maybe. That is why I'm here for him and not for you. If not, we would be fighting. I have no wish to fight you. He's where I cannot reach him, though, isn't he?" When he nodded, I lowered my sword a little and pointed to his nose. "I'll make you a deal. I know that hurts and will until it heals on its own. Swear to take me to him, and I will heal that for you."

The dovah considered me for a long moment. "You swear it?"

"I do."

"… Very well."

I reached out, summoning the spell to my palm. As I drew my hand over the wound, it closed up and the skin knitted back together. The dragon's snout twitched.

"Better?" I asked.

"Yes. You have fulfilled your end of our bargain. Come. Climb aboard and I will carry you to Miraak."

I sheathed my sword and pulled myself up onto the dovah's neck. Once I was in place he took off, soaring out over the sea. I held on tightly as I gazed down at the numerous islands we crossed over, as well as the endless patches of vile muck. I didn't particularly want to fall into it. Divines knew what would happen if I did.

"Beware," the dragon said to me after some time. "Miraak is strong. He knew you would come here."

The dovah circled the tower I'd seen before, heading for the top. As he prepared to touch down, I heard a disapproving voice call out, "Sahrotaar, are you so easily swayed?"

Miraak.

I hopped off once Sahrotaar had landed and faced the other Dragonborn. Overhead I heard other roars. More dragons. Miraak held up one gloved hand for silence.

"No. Not yet. We should greet our guest first."

The other dragons hung back, visible only as shadows swooping in the green sky above us.

"And so the First Dragonborn meets the Last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha," Miraak said, sauntering forward to stand before me. I felt his eyes look me over from behind his gilded mask. "No doubt just as Hermaeus Mora intended. He is a fickle master, you know. But now I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is over. You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power."

"Seems fair," I said with a smirk.

I felt him glare at me. "You will die. And with the power of your soul, I will return to Solstheim and be master of my own fate once again."

He stepped back, using the Shout he had when I first saw him. But he wasn't the only one who knew that trick.

"Mul qah diiv!" I Shouted.

I felt it immediately. It was like my skin was on fire. I sank to my knees, gasping. Looking down at my hands, I saw my nails lengthen into claws and copper-red scales appear on my flesh. Something fluttered at my back. The wings?

"So, you use my own Shout against me," Miraak said, his voice betraying a note of fascination. "You learn quickly. Good. Let us see who truly has the soul of the Dov."

"Yes. Let's."

I Shouted flames at him and he launched himself skyward to avoid my attack. His wings caught the air and carried him away. Snarling, I jumped into the air after him.

I felt everything. The air moving against the skin of the wings, the sensation of being suspended as I left the ground beneath me. It was like flying with the dovah, only so much better. It was exhilarating… and terrifying. My mind was filled with images of Martin becoming the towering golden dragon, crying out with anguish. I pushed the memory aside. I wasn't full dragon. Just… part of one. I was always part dovah.

Miraak shot a bolt of lightning at me and I spun through the air to avoid it. The effort knocked me off course with him. I gritted my teeth in frustration.

"Fate decreed that you had to die so that I could win my freedom," he cried. "I am done being Hermaeus Mora's pawn."

I laughed coldly at that. "And what will you do if I don't?"

He snarled and dove toward me. I ripped my sword from its sheath and, as I swooped aside, slashed open a deep gash in his chest. The wound shattered his concentration and he plummeted back toward the top of the tower far below. I followed.

As he fell, he stretched out a hand and cried, "Kruziikrel, rii vaaz!"

There was a familiar rushing sound and one of the dragons in the distance fell toward the murky sea below. I froze, wings pumping the air, as I stared at him in horror.

Miraak had just ripped out the dovah's soul without defeating him first. I recognized the words. Durnehviir taught them to me in exchange for calling him outside of the Soul Cairn. Still, to see it actually used…

Miraak's wings caught the air, slowing his descent. Again, he reached in a different direction and called, "Relonikiv, rii vaaz!"

Another dragon fell with a roar of pain and I heard Miraak's laugh. He pointed to the last dragon. Sahrotaar.

"No!" I screamed as I dove toward him. He wouldn't. Not again.

"Sahrotaar, rii vaaz!"

I saw the dragon collapse, saw the flesh stripped from his bones as Miraak tore out his soul. My cry of rage turned into a jet of fire that I spat at the other Dragonborn.

But Miraak had vanished.

I looked around. The sky was empty.

Swooping down to land on the top of the tower, I looked around warily. There was no sign of him.

"Come out and face me, Miraak!" I shouted. "You treacherous coward!"

I felt the scales fading away from my skin and the weight disappeared from my back. The power of the Shout was wearing off.

Before I could really begin to worry about losing it, I saw Miraak rise from a pool of the toxic water at the tower's dead center. His dragon effect was gone as well, and he seemed to be struggling against whatever was holding him.

That was when Mora's eyes opened.

"Did you think to escape me, Miraak?" A tentacle shot out of the muck and stabbed Miraak through the chest, hoisting him even further into the air. "You can hide nothing from me here!"

I took a hasty step back. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Mora's anger pulsed through the air in sickening waves. I lowered my blade.

"No matter. I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me."

The truth hit me hard; Hermaeous Mora was going to kill Miraak himself. Then he was going to make me his slave forever, just like Miraak had been.

"May she be rewarded for her service... as I am," Miraak gasped. His entire body flickered as he disintegrated. There was a rushing sound as I absorbed his soul, but not just his. I sensed many of them. The other dovah souls he'd stolen.

The Daedric Prince hummed thoughtfully as he let Miraak's skeleton fall to the ground with a clatter. "Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion against me. Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded."

The main eye turned on me and I felt my heart pounding. I couldn't let him own me. What I'd done for Sheogorath unwillingly had been far too close to that. But what could I do? The Daedric Prince had just killed his last servant, and I–

A dovah's words came back to me. Durnehviir's. His explanation for his enslavement to the Ideal Masters in the Soul Cairn.

"They had control of my mind, but fortunately they couldn't possess my soul."

Like Miraak, he'd bargained for his power with his servitude. Yet they still hadn't totally owned him. My bargain had been made using the Skaal's knowledge and nothing more. I glared up at the Prince's many eyes.

"I won't, and there's nothing you can do to make me. You can't trick me, Mora. Our bargain's been fulfilled, and I owe you nothing more. My soul is still mine," I spat.

"Such a clever Dragonborn, perhaps more so than Miraak." Hermaeus Mora let out a rattling sigh of regret. "Ah, well. You would have been an interesting addition to my collection. A mortal harboring a fragment of the Mantle of a Daedric Prince… Fascinating…"

I stared at him. "What?"

"You did not truly believe that your condition was a curse, did you?" He asked. "Jyggalag could have done so, yes, but he was too far gone. Instead, he merely forced back a piece of Sheogorath's mantle onto your soul. Its hold is weak, however, and by now you could almost simply… rip it off."

A tentacle brushed past my face and I staggered back. Mora chuckled.

"No, I will not take it from you. To do so would be a waste. I am far more curious as to what you will do with it. Will you keep it and remain immortal forever, or will you use its power to perform something… world-shattering?"

Behind me, there was a loud splashing noise. Turning back, I saw a pedestal rise from the pool of muck. Some of the poisonous water lapped over the sides. At the top of the pedestal was a massive version of the Black Book that brought me into the realm. I walked up to it, careful to avoid stepping in the spills, and opened the front cover. As before, lines of acid-green Daedric script slid over the ancient pages. I reached out to touch it, knowing it would return me to Mundus.

"Your fate has already been set in motion," Hermaeus Mora whispered, "but I will wait to see what lies at the end."


I opened my eyes. Apocrypha was gone. In its place was the interior of Frea's small wooden house. I breathed a sigh of relief as I closed the Black Book. I'd made it back after all, no tricks. Good.

Frea looked up at me from her spot by the fire. She'd clearly just been tending to it. Her pale eyes were bright as she said, "I can feel it. The Tree Stone is free again. The Oneness of the land is restored. Does that mean… Is it over? Is Miraak defeated?"

"It is. He's dead," I told her.

"Then my father's sacrifice… it was not in vain. He died to free us." She hesitated. Then, "Tell me, was it the only way? Did he need to die?"

"Without Storn's help, I couldn't have defeated Miraak."

"Then… it was the All-Maker's will, as he said. I know I should not doubt it. But it is good to hear, all the same. Thank you."

I nodded. Pulling open the door, I stepped outside. It was morning. The sun was just rising over the sea to the east, the light partially blocked by the shadow of the Red Mountain. I took a deep breath of the cold air as I felt the toxic aura of Apocrypha leaving me. I took a few steps away from the house.

"One more thing, Skaal-friend, if you will," Frea called out to me from the doorway. "I know it is not my place, but… may I offer a word of advice? Of warning?"

I stopped and looked back at her. "What is it?"

"As shaman of the Skaal, I am charged with the spiritual well-being of my people," she said. "While you are not of the Skaal, you are Skaal-friend, and so I give you this warning: Herma-Mora forced you to serve him in order to defeat Miraak. Do not let him lure you further down that path. The All-Maker made you Dragonborn for a higher purpose. Do not forget that."

I smiled a bit at that. "I wouldn't worry about me. I've seen the Daedra enough to know what I'm up against. Besides, Mora has no claim over me. A dragon's soul isn't owned quite so easily."

"Then walk with the All-Maker, Mara Skaal-friend," she said, inclining her head to me.

I repeated the gesture before turning away and walking toward the village's entrance.