Chapter Twenty-Six
Interlude Ten; By The Light Of A Cherry Red Fire
Firsthold, Summurset Isle, Sun's Dusk 3E 408. It is twenty-one years before the present day. Morgiah is thirty-two.
Sunset on Firsthold was one of the wonders of the world.
The city was stunning any light, of course. The lofty pinnacles of the palace – a miracle of sculpted glasswork, pale gem-like colours and insect-wing iridescence – reached towards the sky like some angelic behemoth. Smooth, delicate tree trunks entwined with intricate silver pillars, blending nature and artifice with breathtaking elegance.
As the sun sank over a cherry-red sea, the city lit up like a jewel on fire.
The fire was reflected in the eyes of the woman standing at the fragile silver balcony of the library, three hundred feet above the ground. No Altmer had eyes like this. Only the Dunmer, with the ash and flame in their souls, could mirror the sinking sun.
Two years on, Firsthold was starting to feel more familiar to Morgiah. She would never have called it home, but where was home these days? Wayrest was lost to her. Morrowind, the country of her birth, was a stranger. It seemed that wherever she went, whatever she did, she would be foreign.
The breeze lifted her hair like a lover's hand.
The physical transition had been relatively easy. Her belongings arrived less than a week after herself, and to her surprise and pleasure, Barenziah had accompanied them. The awkward anticlimax of their parting had preyed on Morgiah's mind; the idea of hurting her mother's feelings seemed on one hand absurd, but on the other too painful to contemplate. In the short weeks before her departure from Wayrest, Barenziah had made no attempt to ask how her daughter had won the hand of one of the most powerful kings in Tamriel. Perhaps, against all odds, she thought she and Reman had genuinely fallen in love. Morgiah found the idea of such normality comforting, and was not inclined to make corrections.
The wedding of a King is an affair of state, and Reman's was no exception. The Altmer were lavish by nature – even Morgiah, used to the finery of the upper classes, had been taken aback by the decadence. The Royal Court was naturally scandalised by their King's hasty betrothal, the commons even more so. She had a long way to go to win their love.
Helseth had not attended the ceremony.
He had not even written, though two years had now passed since her departure. She tried to tell herself he was caught up in his ever-intensifying battle with Elysana, but in reality she was hurt by his silence. His initial reaction to the news of her betrothal had been bemused indifference, but he had grown cold in her final weeks at Wayrest, as if with her engagement she had done something cruel, something traitorous… It troubled her deeply, but she did not know how to make it right.
Reman, however, had been the biggest surprise of all.
Most unexpectedly, she found that she liked him. Even more astonishing was the fact that he seemed to like her. The King of Firsthold was a kindly soul, curiously devoid of the elitist conceit so characteristic of his people. Though she had expressed no anxiety at the prospect, he had nevertheless been inordinately tender on their wedding night. He was a deal older than her, it was true, but she found a quiet serenity in his presence that made the world seem – for a time – simple and good.
What he thought of her involvement with the King of Worms she had no idea. She suspected he believed her a hapless pawn, and his gentleness towards her was an according product. As with Barenziah, she felt it was better to leave him to his assumptions.
Behind her, the library stretched up like an icicle, a soaring spike of glass and silver. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned and her shadow stretched long and dark through the doorway.
"Your Highness." The newcomer bowed, his golden skin aglow in the sunset.
Morgiah smiled.
It had taken many months to arrange this meeting. On arriving in Firsthold, she had not wasted a single moment in realising her ambitions. The library was everything she had dreamed of, and it would take all her years as queen to penetrate its secrets – but this person, this man, was an even greater prize. Even in his own city, he had been slippery as an eel to locate and even harder to secure an audience with.
"So kind of you to consent to this meeting," she said lightly, sweeping off the balcony into the cool darkness of the library interior. "You are a difficult man to find."
"I try to stay out of the public eye, your Highness. I find things are simpler that way."
"The commons are quite voracious for you, it's true. They call you 'The Eternal Champion' in the city, did you know that?"
Jagar Tharn's vanquisher, Ria Silmane's chosen, smiled with genteel grace. "A charming affectation. They seem reluctant to use my name, as if it holds some unknown power."
"Forgive me, but I'm afraid I shall go against the flow, Ocato," Morgiah said smoothly. "Birth-given names are so important, don't you think?"
"As you wish, your Highness," Ocato deferred. He was careful to show respect – after all, she was Queen – but it was clear that his sufferance would not stretch indefinitely. In his eyes, like so many of the Altmer nobility, she was little more than a trophy.
"May I offer you some wine?" she asked politely, retrieving a decanter from a jewelled cabinet. "It is quite delicious; we had a new shipment from Rosefield only yesterday."
"How kind. Thank you."
He accepted a glass of deep golden liquid and raised it up, silently toasting her health. His eyes, she noticed, were the exact same shade as the wine, and curiously piercing.
"To what do I owe this honour, your Highness?" Ocato inquired, waiting for her to settle in the deep green leather of the reading-chair before taking his own seat.
"A whim, in truth," Morgiah said innocently. "I have a mind to hear of your extraordinary adventures, particularly those near my home province of High Rock. Perhaps you would care to indulge me."
"What her Highness desires, her Highness must be given," Ocato said inscrutably. She couldn't tell whether he was playing along or if he truly believed her. "I assume you are familiar with the history of the period? I confess, I have little knowledge what rumour or speculation may have made of the tale."
"I've heard whispers in my time. It was said that you were seen in Evermore. Obviously, Wayrest is well-placed to receive such rumours."
"Well-placed indeed; you are correct. I was briefly in Evermore. You may have also heard the name Crypt of Hearts? It is the infested ruin in which the sixth piece of Tharn's staff was concealed."
Morgiah's eyebrow lifted. "Only in myth."
"So thought I, but alas, it exists." Ocato sighed. "A most disagreeable place. At that time, the Staff of Chaos was close to completion, and Tharn had finally discovered Ria Silmane's plan. His pursuit of me was… unpleasant."
"So you decided to even the odds."
Ocato narrowed his eyes. "Your Highness?"
Morgiah leaned forward, betraying a little of her eagerness. Careful, careful. "As I said before, Wayrest is well-placed to hear rumours, and I have many eyes and ears. The word was that you sought… artefacts."
Ocato was silent for a while, regarding her with his placid amber eyes. "'Sought' is not quite the right word," he said finally. "The opportunity came across me, as it were. At the time, I was journeying towards the western tip of the Iliac peninsula, hoping to elude Tharn by water. I happened to come across a coven in the woodlands of the Glenumbra Moors. You know what a coven is, I presume?"
"Freelance magic, outside Guild confines," Morgiah said, tapping her fingers against the polished mahogany armrest. "Of course, there are nomad bands all over Tamriel, but I understand the term coven is peculiar to High Rock."
"Just so. The witches differ from place to place, but they all embody the same philosophy. Their matriarch is usually gifted with some form of second sight. In this case, it was unusually strong; apt, considering their area of summoning."
"So it was you," Morgiah said softly, unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice. She sat up. "I am sorry to have misled you, Ocato. The rumours did not, in fact, concern you in particular – but I had little reason to doubt my suspicions. I hope you will forgive my deception."
Ocato smirked, the first genuine expression to cross his face since their introduction. "My dear Queen, had you really suspected my possession of the Ogmha Infinium – yes, let us not dance around the subject, I know the Tome is the artefact of which you speak – surely you would never have expected me to fall for such a contrived ruse?"
Morgiah stared, momentarily thrown. "You knew this was the reason I summoned you?"
"There are many things I perceive plain as day now that the Tome has passed through my hands. Perhaps, given my foresight, I should have been more reticent… but in truth, your Highness, you intrigue me." Ocato folded his immaculately manicured hands in his lap, regarding her shrewdly. "Reman may think you a shy maid, but I have seen the way you work this court, and I have heard whispers of the manner of your betrothal. Even I do not fully understand your motives. You will forgive me, then, if I feed the alchemy-rat to further the experiment."
It took all of Morgiah's restraint not to let her jaw drop. Quite apart from being referred to as a rat, the idea of Ocato treating her as some sort of social experiment revolted her to the core.
"I am not an alchemical specimen, Ocato. You out-manoeuvred me, I'll grant you that, but I doubt you know as much as you imply."
Ocato nodded, good-natured now the truth was out. "It is true there are many circumstances surrounding your presence in Firsthold that are elusive to me. How did you come to marry Reman, for instance, with no prior connection and no friendship between your families? And why does he treat you like a fragile foundling that needs to be shielded from the vulgarities of the world? Elusive indeed… I am content, however, to watch the unfolding of this mystery from afar."
It took Morgiah a moment to realise what he meant. "You are leaving? How unfortunate; we have only just begun to know each other."
"I am afraid it is quite impossible for me to stay; in fact if you will excuse me, these scant minutes in your company are all I can afford. News has reached me today that his Majesty the Emperor has offered me the position of Imperial Battlemage. I shall be returning at first light to accept." He smirked, looking directly into her eyes with a gaze that reminded her, for a moment, of blue sparks under a red hood. "The irony is delicious, is it not?"
Morgiah laughed; she couldn't help herself. "I'm sure Tharn would be the first to appreciate it," she agreed, getting to her feet. "I won't detain you, then, although I am sorry our audience needs be so fleeting. Do visit, won't you?"
Ocato followed suit, rising and kissing her hand. "But of course, your Highness."
They left the room in the dwindling glow of the setting sun.
On the 20th of Sun's Dawn 3E 409, Queen Morgiah of Firsthold begged leave of King Reman to visit her family in High Rock. Eager to please, he gave her a swift galley, five extravagantly expensive dresses for the occasion, a twenty-carat emerald for Queen Barenziah and a fond farewell at the docks.
What her lord husband did not know was that once they disappeared past the Cape of the Blue Divide, her Highness bribed the captain an obscene amount of money (not to mention the emerald) to dock on the Iliac peninsula of the Glenumbra Moors.
A/N: Players of Oblivion will, of course, recognise Ocato. Since he holds the position of Imperial Battlemage come TES IV, I liked the idea that he acceded to his office by dispatching the former candidate through the events of Arena. Each Elder Scrolls game is so vastly different from the others that I really like to find ways to link them into a more cohesive whole. Since all my efforts on this front so far have been based on Daggerfall and Morrowind, I thought it was only fair to bring the other two in. In case you haven't already realised, this story will end up contradicting Oblivion canon somewhat (due to being planned out before the game was even embryonic), but I still wanted to put some namedrop connections in.
