~D~
XIII. Troublesome Perspectives
(Meydahmiik Silsemiinne)
Miraak paced, observing the workers struggling to manage the skeleton of his latest conquest… Lotyolviing, that had been the dragon's name. Seeing as his workers had had little else to do for the past few days, he'd put them to this task. The amount of followers that had recently joined him had given him a burst of confidence. Many now knew that the dragons could die by a mortal's hands. It was a grand secret no more. This truth had led them to where they were now.
Currently, the workers hauled in the old, weathered-looking bones amongst themselves, working together on each individual piece and placing them about like a great puzzling anomaly. They called orders up and down the hallway, their voices reverberating in the room lit in fire. The overall din of their yelling, clanking, and clattering might have granted the dragonborn a headache had he not felt his amusement growing significantly for the duration of this task. He found it rather entertaining.
Miraak chuckled slightly. No, little could bother him after such recent and sweet success.
They hold the bones of the mighty dragons, so willingly, so carelessly, knocking them about like awkward sculptures… It is amusing to think of when they would have once been content to sing praises to them months ago. They would have cut off their own hands and taken their own lives before laying a finger on a dragon's hide, much less his corpse. But it is my corpse now, for its soul resides within me.
What a travesty this must be to the supposed gods. To them, I must be a frightening mystery. To these people, I am a gods-bane. In the eyes of both, however, I am a vanquisher.
He stalked forward, then back again, gaze roaming the room. Finally, he turned to his throne and sat down, leaning forward in contemplation. He watched the others in their task, mind wandering to another subject.
Apocrypha...what a magnificent library. Nothing can compare to its sheer size and faculties. Yes, an amazing collection… And whatever I desire from it is mine... In return for a few favors. A fair trade, I believe. Easy service until my life ends. I am not immortal like a dragon, but I am powerful. My soul is still my own. I merely lend my blade to a master of knowledge. I shall leave my legacy in this world.
There was a loud crash that broke into his thoughts. Lotyolviing's skull collapsed a stand of scaffolding, thudding to the ground. The skull fell to the side with another intrusive noise, causing an alarmed shift among those near it. Miraak heard the workers cursing, loud and obnoxious. He could see no evident damage save for the destroyed woodwork, so amusement seized him in spite of himself.
They struggle with the mere bones, when I brought the living one death, he reflected idly. Still, they have become much different now that they are not captivated in blind worship and empty servitude. Breaking away from the dov has been the clearest decision I have ever made.
He heard urgent footsteps approaching him. He turned his attention upon them, bored.
"Lord Miraak," said a woman. She knelt respectfully when she reached him. "Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but you said to immediately inform you of any suspicious activity."
"You may rise. What suspicious activity do you speak of?"
She stood and spoke with urgency. "One of the scouts reported... well, it's Vahlok, Lord, on horseback and two miles south."
Miraak scowled behind his golden mask. He just doesn't give up. He must have finally decided on a course of action. It is rather unlike him, though...
"Should we...respond?" she asked.
"No," Miraak replied. "I daresay if he's here to fight, he'll get it one way or the other. Best not waste the kenb-... followers on this, and let him come to me directly. I shall decorate the floor with his ashes, should he choose it."
"Yes, my lord." She hurried away quickly.
Yes, should he choose to be a fool, he'll pay the price. The Dragon Council must learn that they cannot defy me.
The hour before Vahlok's arrival passed uneventfully.
The Dragon Council priest entered the throne room silently. Many watched him stroll into the great chamber unhindered. He bore only his staff, and walked calmly. However, his familiar stride was jolted and he halted, staring at the blatantly strung-up remains of Sosvulzein. His gaze then flicked to the countless dragon fangs, claws, wing bones, skulls and horns displayed as trophies of a hunt throughout the grand room. He seemed frozen for several minutes, incapable of moving.
His eyes locked upon the workers, and they stared back. Silence immediately fell upon the great chamber.
Miraak was well-pleased by Vahlok's reaction, and he was glad to bear witness to it. The dragonborn stood as grandly as he could and stepped from his throne. He spread his hands in a mockingly welcome gesture, but spoke no words.
"This is outrageous!" Exclaimed Vahlok as he stormed forward purposefully, tightening his grip upon his staff.
"Why do you enter my temple, Vahlok?" Miraak asked, tensing.
He seized his own staff from its resting spot, surging his magicka through it. It glowed brightly before it dimmed, a vague challenge.
Miraak saw in his peripheral view his guards and followers shuffling with uncertainty, aware of what was probably going to happen. It wasn't long before the room was filled with even more men and women whose attention was drawn to the tense stand-off. Even the workers didn't bother to hide the fact that they simply ignored Lotyolviing's skull where it lay.
Almost reflexively, the two enemies began to circle each other. Miraak was ready though, for the debate that he could sense coming. The angered diatribe he would match. This was his temple, the place to show all that he would humiliate Vahlok.
And if it turned into more than an argument, then he would kill this man.
"Vax," hissed Vahlok, accepting the challenge without missing a beat. "You know why I am here. But if I must spell it out for you, so be it. I am here because you could not restrain yourself! You just couldn't resist, could you? Your campaign against the dovah? This was not the terms of our agreement when we spoke several months ago."
"We agreed to nothing. You thought you had power where you did not."
"You are like a child, Miraak! Brash! Young! Ar-"
"Arrogant? Stupid? How often have I heard that? Does your diction never change, Vahlok? You've never respected me...neither have the rest of the council. But you...they've always respected. I find it amusing, really. You do not realize what your folly will cost you. One day, they will all see your lies for what they are. You are a man of trickery, almost worse than your gods...but it will catch up to you."
"Trickery? That's what you think it is? I am-"
"Indeed, the rest of the council would have been undoubtedly upset when you chose exile for the traitor. You think they still respect you so greatly? Every word you've said since I've obtained this power has shortened your life expectancy. How many webs of lies have you spun around yourself?"
"I do not understand you…"
"News has reached me of rebellion in the south…. Tell me, are the rest of the Dragon Council members giving you dark looks now for throwing me out instead of killing me? Perhaps they will start to blame you for actions you have not committed, as they are so fond of doing." There was bitterness in his last statement, barely visible.
"My ties with the council aren't so fragile, Miraak. Some will grumble in anger, true, but it is responsibility to take it upon ourselves to make certain decisions...for the good of all. Sometimes that means wielding words as well as magicka."
Why are we wasting time? He wondered, but curiosity seized him in spite of himself. "Are you regretting your decision? Is that why you are here?"
"No, I do not regret my decision. I only hope to convince you to see wisdom… You know, there was a time when you were a promising candidate for a prestigious title, but your greed for power has clearly consumed you."
"You have never said anything of my potential before." Miraak spoke distrustfully. "I remember a man who could only find faults in every direction he looked."
"I wanted you to temper your own fire first…" Vahlok sounded as if his teeth were clenched. "I gave you a chance to do so, even before your exile!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Who gave you the ring, Miraak? Who?"
Miraak froze. The other stopped pacing and both pairs of eyes narrowed.
"What do you say?" Miraak demanded. "Did you know its purpose?"
"No," sighed Vahlok, his tension easing. "I did not. I knew it was powerful, and I did not wish to give it to you… However, I was asked by...your mother. To give it to you should she meet death. I was hesitant, truth be told, but I trusted you to do what was right. If I had known that you would play right into such an obvious trap, I would have flung it in the incinerator. I overestimated your intelligence and self-control! I was trying to make you see that all of you power-lust was pointless."
"By giving me what you thought was a powerful artifact...your logic is tragically fallible, as always."
"I should have known better." Unexpectedly, his tone changed. "For pity's sake, Miraak. Halt this imbecilic conquest before you lose yourself completely to darkness!"
"There is no stopping fate," Miraak stated. "Or your nonsense, apparently."
"I could say the same of you… Then let me tell you this, in the hopes it will force you to think; Lord Juskkeinfaaz is on the move. He is aware of your activities this last month. It has filled him with righteous rage. He started gathering followers to...deal with you - dragons whose mastery of the thu'um are far greater than yours. Don't you see? They want your blood, they want revenge! If you fade to the background now, they may still pass you by!"
"Juskkeinfaaz?" Miraak asked in incredulity.
What would encourage such a prestigious dragon to pay him any mind now when it'd been beneath their notice before? Juskkeinfaaz was another of the oldest dragons in existence, one of Alduin's brothers, but not nearly as close to the destroyer as Paarthurnax was.
I'm finally getting to them… At last. This is the first signs of fear in the older and more powerful dragons.
Vahlok exclaimed, "How can you not know!? His activities have gained quite a bit of attention lately."
"I've taken down followings before," Miraak stated. "Most dragons are loners in battle. If they come together to fight, it is only two or three closely-bonded dragons. Nearly twenty of your gods have fallen to my power already."
"I… I do not…" Vahlok faltered, looking around again. "Yes, it is true, isn't it? Disgusting and morbid be your powers! Still… There are enough dovah in Thuri Juskkeinfaaz's following to make one question why so many are needed!"
Miraak turned to Sosvulzein's skeleton. "Already, history is beginning to remember me. Let these beasts come. They shall fall too."
"You are truly insane! You should know your own strength! Know that you aren't c-"
"I do know my strength. I know I'll win."
"It is not just Lord Juskkeinfaaz. Hevnoraak has made no secret that he wants your blood. Lord Diiviizkren, the dragon he worships, is almost as old as Lord Juskkeinfaaz! What do you plan to do when they come for you?"
Mirak turned back to him. "Why concern yourself with me? Let others with more powerful than yourself fix your apparent problems. Is that not your way? To speak is your fight. Mine, however, will always be in blood!"
"And that's why you'll always fail."
"No, that is why you will not act against me. You speak when you are frightened, am I wrong?" Miraak gestured widely, raising his staff. "Come, then, Vahlok. If I am wrong, then fight me. Kill me, if you believe yourself capable. Make that example. Prove your own worthiness to your gods. Wash Keizaal in my blood with your power and please them! Is that not what you promised to do? To guard your precious dragons? Is it not your true desire? I cannot believe that you will always refuse to fight..."
Vahlok said nothing. For a moment, they simply glared through their masks at one another. Miraak shook his head before speaking again.
"No, then… Am I wrong? Why? Should I be offended or pleased by your refusal to meet me in combat? You obviously believe yourself better. Truthfully, I don't think you are afraid of me. Is it your diplomacy? Or are you starting to see the falsities of the dragons...?" he gave a dark mirthless chuckle full of menace. "No, Vahlok. You would lick their scales if they ordained your presence worthy enough to be within ten paces of them. But they do not.
"If you killed me now, your phony gods would be pleased! See now how your pathetic words fail you...how they make you weak."
"I do not wish to fight you now, Miraak. I came today only to reassure myself of how you have fallen too far. Rest assured, the day of reckoning will come...just not by me."
"Yes, let Hevnoraak and Diiviiizkren and Juskkeinfaaz and all the other dragons finish what you could not!"
"Lord Miraak!" A voice broke across the room. A man hurried forward, his mask hiding his face, but he sounded slightly nervous. He reached the two enemies, but kept a distance, intelligently wary.
"Lord Miraak," he repeated. "There are two men; one older, one younger, and a woman here to see you. They claim...well," he glanced at Vahlok, then back. "Well, they claim to be the leaders of a rebellion of sorts. Shall we grant them passage?"
Miraak stared at Vahlok, but his words were directed at the man. "Indeed? Unexpected. Very well, let us see what these peasants want."
The man nodded and hurried away.
Vahlok snapped, "It is impossible for you to avoid doing the things you'll eventually come to regret, isn't it? To grant an audience with the damned traitors in the south..." He stared at Miraak for a few minutes. Then, he turned on his heels, storming for the entrance.
It wasn't long before the strange, announced trio appeared. The first through the door was a young man with auburn hair on his head and face. He dressed in a familiar style of armor of a former guard. Furs decorated it at the shoulders and waist. He carried his helmet, and a sword hung at his belt. A shield clung to his back.
The second through was a woman, her dark blonde hair braided back out of her heavily-painted face. She was covered in sturdy armor, too, and a large broadsword hung upon her back. She was stern and unbroken in appearance.
Behind them, a man in gray robes followed. His steps were quick like theirs, but more deliberately taken and measured. His gray hair and beard hung loosely, and his eyes seemed to glint with a faintest hint of cunning senility.
Miraak folded his arms as the group approached him, curious to these rebels. He held in his amusement at their strangeness, for there was an odd air about them, something he'd never seen before in peasants. Still, he was confused with the paint upon the woman's face, something that made little sense to him. Was she compensating for a lack of beard? What could coloring one's face accomplish?
"Greetings," said the first man when they reached him, nodding slightly. "I have heard of what you've accomplished here in the north lately."
"That is unsurprising." Miraak responded. "Who are you? Leaders of some rebellion in the south, I hear?"
"Indeed. We have actively organized resistance against the Dragon Order. We've traveled far to meet with you."
"When fighting for our home, no place is too far," said the woman, her eyes flashing.
"You are Miraak, I presume? The man they've been calling 'dragonborn' for his prowess over the dragons?" The man said.
"I am, but I do not know your names..." Miraak responded carefully.
"I am Hakon All-Sight," the man said, nodding. "This is my sister Gormlaith Golden-hilt, and that is Felldir the Old. We are among the ones who lead the fight for our homeland. This is Keizaal no more, but Skyrim, the land that touches the sky."
Miraak wondered over the name, Skyrim. It was fitting enough, he supposed, for the mountains one saw in the distance seemed to reach the blue.
The dragonborn said, "It is an impressive…title, of course. However, I still do not see how this has brought you to me."
Gormlaith's expression changed instantly, becoming hard and annoyed. However, she said nothing.
Hakon spoke, "I'm getting to that. About three years ago, we began to organize a more...quiet...resistance against the dragon order, and more importantly, Alduin himself. They were small deeds at first. Stolen artifacts of value, quiet deaths in the shadows, and teachings of things beyond the rule of the dragons.
"Of course, there were traitors to our order. Few saw beyond the 'truth of the immortal dovah'. We had no way to prove that there was something more important than their tyranny."
"Really?" Miraak said, his voice betraying interest. "What did you discover...Hakon All-Sight?"
"I found that the truths behind those we worshipped were fragile. There are true gods, divines. Akatosh himself birthed Alduin and his dragonkin, but they hide this secret. They want us to think they are the first, that Alduin is the first dragon. The divines never intended us to bow to the dragons when we ourselves arrived in Tamriel. The dragons are just another race upon this world."
Miraak folded his arms, caught up on something he'd said. "Now you worship something else? Something called Divines?" He chuckled. Peasants. His voice grew mocking. "So, what? You've traded one overlord for another? You're comprehension of the situation is remarkably short-sighted, Hakon All-Sight."
Gormlaith grew sour. "The Divines are not tyrants. They are the ones who help us see wisdom, like Kyne. She and a dragon worked together to grant us the Voice." She looked at Hakon. "Do we really have to deal with this ass? It's obvious the only difference between him and all the other priests is that he no longer serves the wyrms." She looked back at him. "He still believes himself better than everyone else."
Miraak responded calmly, "I believe only the truth."
Gormlaith growled, "I'll sho-"
"Quiet down, Gormlaith," Hakon responded. He looked at Miraak. "Look, I don't care what you believe... We may see the world in different ways, but so what? It matters little at this point. You kill dragons, yes? You destroy all chance of the World-Eater raising them back to life? That is what we've heard. Is it true?"
"It is true." Miraak said. He was bothered for some reason, though, by the line of questions fired at him.
"Then help us. Of all the men in this damned world, you could defeat the Destroyer himself. Your power would ruin the possibility of him raising himself. Alduin would fa-"
"You presume much." Miraak had tensed. "You are asking me to deal with a problem that you yourself cannot contend with. How cowardly."
"And what does it make you to refuse to challenge Alduin?" Felldir finally spoke. "Perhaps you fear him... Yes, that would make sense. You refuse because you are afraid of Alduin, and you hypocritically condescend us in turn."
Miraak bristled. "I am afraid of no dragon...even Alduin. I simply refuse to do it to help your little, pointless rebellion."
"Pointless?!" Gormlaith stepped forward.
Hakon put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, turning her glare on him for a few seconds, then back at Miraak.
"How dare you say such!" She snapped. "You were the first to turn on the dragons openly."
"I had the power to back up my defiance."
"AND SO DO WE!" She shouted. She struggled to calm down. "We are powerful enough to face down Alduin. If we work together, he will fall more easily. There will be less death on our side. You are...what were they saying? Dragonborn? A man and a dragon in one?"
"Indeed."
"Look, it doesn't even have to be a permanent allegiance," Hakon said as persuasively as he could. "Join us in one single, fateful evening of battle, and the end is realized. A new age will dawn for mankind, and the dragons' tyranny will fall."
Miraak turned from them, silent. He paced to his throne and sat down. He leaned forward, gazing at the trio.
"Mankind," he said. His fists clenched in a blatant display of irritation. "I do not identify with the masses you are so quick to associate me with, Hakon. Why should I care for their weaknesses? You speak as if I should put weights on my ankles for the supposed benefit of the shackle itself. You are helpless, so you turn to those more powerful in the hopes of protecting your own life-"
"I would gladly give my life if it would free this world!"
"I am not condemning you. You want to lead, but you only have the strength to follow. If a free world is what you seek, then you are naive." His gaze was keen now, eyes narrowed behind his mask. "But freedom is not what you want...it is purpose. Why else scrabble with the dragons? If you wanted freedom, you could charge into the wilderness to live by your wit, and ignore the suffering you seem to resent, like the tribes."
"I do not understand where this is leading, Miraak," Hakon said, his voice rising in spite of himself. "Freedom is what I want. For all men, not just me."
Gormlaith's gaze had become quite murderous, and if it had been fatal, the dragonborn would have met his death. Felldir observed in silence, expression unreadable.
Miraak continued. "Put simply, I am saying that you seek purpose in this bloodshed. But you are going about it in the wrong way. Make no mistake, Alduin will fall to me one fine day, but it will not be in the names of whatever gods you have bowed to." His voice grew more welcoming. "And purpose truly is stronger than freedom. You will be wise to realize what I offer you." He raised his hands, straightening to his feet once again.
He spoke grandly, "Join me, Hakon. For I was born to be your leader. I will be the glory of the new age, and an empire will rise behind my staff." He smiled, though the others could not see it. "It is as fate decreed."
"I want to kill him," Gormlaith said simply, rough voice eerily calm, but her serenity left her quickly. "He's a gods-damned dragon in a man's shape! All he cares for is his power!"
"I think we're done here," Hakon spoke. "I do not wish to follow one such as you Miraak, and if I did, I would never have worked with others and created the revolution, not rebellion. Maybe you should think on why I would never accept your offer."
He turned away, walking for the exit.
"You cannot defeat Alduin without my help," Miraak responded. "Your presence here proved such."
Hakon paused, his shoulders slumping.
Miraak continued. "Even you know he is far apart from his brethren, the first dragon. I can identify with such, and that gives me the advantage. I am the first dragonborn. I feel far apart from my own kin, and you should not judge that feeling as bad. You need me, for I am more valuable to your fight than a thousand peasants or soldiers. I am the only one who can achieve victory against the World-Devourer."
Felldir snorted. "Look at him, thinks he's so powerful." He looked at Hakon. "There are other ways to destroy Alduin. Ways that do not involve idiots like this..."
"I agree," Gormlaith said. She stormed for the exit. "I'm leaving because I promised Hakon before we came that I wouldn't decapitate you!" She called to Miraak.
"Try it," Miraak said. "Perhaps then, truth will find its way into your doubting mind."
She spun on her heels, but Felldir was already pushing her towards the door. "Come on, Gormlaith, this is one fight you don't need to fight."
"I will fight every fight," she hissed. "I would break his neck like a twig! I did it to a dragon, didn't I?"
"Yes, yes…"
Hakon turned back to Miraak, his gaze falling. "I had thought of you differently, Miraak, when I heard of what you had done... You should listen to the stories they tell around the fires… You sound almost heroic. Alas, your power has made you blind to the constant suffering around you. I know you do not relate to men, but you should. Empathy is important to us. It is what the dragons do not have."
"What difference would it make?"
Hakon smiled in the fashion of a man thinking fondly on something. "The difference is that we care. I care. I feel my heart burn for my home...but you, you don't feel anything but your own power. The world will be free, not because of power, or order, or firstborns, or whatever you believe, but because we deserve that chance. Because we see it differently. You would enslave all to yourself in return for your help...I will find another way." He nodded. "We," he looked at the others, "will find another way."
Gormlaith nodded and exited the chamber, never looking back.
"Good to see you are as sensible as I know you to be, Hakon," Felldir said with an odd smile that seemed out of place on his craggy face. "Farewell, Miraak. I suspect I will never see you again."
Miraak folded his arms. "Leave, then, if you would rather perish for nothing."
Hakon said nothing as he and the old one left.
They...felt?
Felt for the land, is what Hakon said.
What could one feel towards frozen soil? Miraak wondered. Why doesn't Hakon feel desire for strength and purpose, too? If he does not, then why fight his rebellion...?
More importantly, why are their words so troubling?
Miraak sat still for a moment, thinking. He pushed their words from his mind. For some reason, he felt a lingering feeling in his gut that bothered him. Pinpointing its cause was impossible, so he ignored it and let out a sigh. He felt uncertainty towards the strange trio that had just left. They acted like no other he'd ever seen before, even other peasants.
He finally noticed those who'd witnessed the entire proceedings. "Return to your work, all of you!" He shouted at the workers.
He brooded silently while the others broke into quiet mutterings and returned to their tasks, far more quiet than they had been before.
.
Dovahzul
Dov - Dragonkind