Epilogue

1st of Morning Star, 3E 428

If you honestly think of that as the end of my story, you are sadly mistaken.

Despite the many celebrations thrown in honor of Dagoth Ur's death and the end of the Blight on Morrowind, that didn't mean the end of any adventures for me, as I had previously been led to think. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part, but Azura had warned me and I chose to ignore it. I should have paid more attention to Vivec, but I was a fool.

Several hours after the New Life celebrations had died down, I awoke to the sound of a loud bang. Julan wasn't asleep beside me, as I had come to expect.

I was alone.

Or so I thought, anyway. I seemed to remember the door opening at one point, or perhaps it was part of a dream. That's what I thought at first, anyway. I also heard footsteps. The sound was unmistakable.

"Julan…?"

Or perhaps it was Shani. No one else would be allowed to enter this room this late at night. When I didn't get a response, I grabbed the dagger from under my pillow. I had slept with one there ever since those assassins had attacked me, months before. Just in case I was attacked again. This turned out to be the right decision, although I never expected it to happen now.

Who would want me dead now?

I got out of bed and muttered a quick incantation under my breath. That was when I saw the assassin. He attempted to stab me in the stomach, but I rolled to the ground, before piercing him in the shin. He yelped, but otherwise seemed unaffected. He leapt towards me, attempting to finish the job yet again, but I somehow managed to stab him in the back. Blood oozed through his dark armor and through my clothing, but it didn't matter if I looked as though I had just murdered a man.

Bright light begun to shine into the room. I turned to see Julan, who looked none too impressed by the sight before him.

"Sheogorath…" he whispered. "This again?"

I was not in the mood for sarcasm or dry responses.

"I thought this was all over, Julan. I -"

I said nothing more as he entered the room and begun to search the body of the assassin, before sighing in resignation.

"No writ. Which means he can't be with the Tong…"

"And it can't be the Temple," I murmured. "Vivec said they stopped persecuting me."

"But then who else could it be?" Julan and I exchanged looks. He was just as frightened as I. "Ulina, what other enemies could you possibly have now?"

Julan and I had all but eliminated any Sixth House remnants in Vvardenfell, so that had left them out as an option. We had ruled out the Morag Tong and the Temple. Who else could I have angered that they'd try to murder me? Many, I'm sure. But there were no specific individuals I could think of now.

"I don't know, Julan. I just don't know…" I turned towards the window. "But I think I am going to have to find out."

To many - and to the ignorant - this is where the story of the Nerevarine ends. To many, it ended when they slew Dagoth Ur beneath Red Mountain. Perhaps it was (and still continues to be) wishful thinking on their part. They don't really want to admit to themselves the role their savior really played in their nation's history.

But my story - the true story - doesn't end here. Like all life, mine continued on and led me elsewhere. To the City of Mournhold, the city of light and magic.

Or so they told us.

But while the prophecy was fulfilled and the heroics were over and done with, my story was not over.

If anything, this was where it had truly begun.