Again, timelines and lore are less than helpful or even consistent about this time, so I've essentially had to wing it. For instance, one source says Vahlok's rule was after he defeated Miraak, but clearly places it before the rebellion, yet another source says the Tongues sought out Miraak's help during the Dragon War.
Chapter 52 - Dragon War
04 First Seed, 5E 3
Alinor
Lokmoroyol was unusually serious that morning, Yssha thought. Assuming it was morning, of course - the beginning of her "day", at least. We have showed you a brief outline of our history, she sent. You have seen us at the beginning as Bormah intended us to be, and what you are restoring us to. You have seen the humans beginning to worship us, and the way worship corrupted first Alduin, then the rest of us. You have seen much of why the humans decided they had to overthrow our rule.
She sent a sigh. Now you must see the culmination of so many years of combined error by humans and arrogance by dragons. A result no one on either side had either the foresight or wisdom to prevent We have already given you an overview; now it is time for the full story.
The dovah didn't realize it was even a rebellion, at first. Their priests simply reported a shortage of offerings and sacrifices, and that no one was around when they sent their soldiers to collect. Then Frinfahdaan went to check on one of his priest's reports that men were starting to fight his soldiers. What he found was a band of men partially clad in his warriors' armor, and equipped with their weapons. When he landed to demand an explanation, he was attacked - and it surprised him so much he'd taken a sword to the throat before he thought to Shout - and became the first dragon to die at the hands of men.
He didn't remember going anywhere. His next memory was of Alduin resurrecting him to fight again, and this time winning. The joorre died in great numbers, but they were cunning, hiding in caves and other places where dovah could neither see nor reach them. There were still those who worshipped the dovah, of course, but relatively few, the greater priests gone, only a few of the lesser ranks remaining.
One of the greater priests had rebelled, but not with the other humans, and out of arrogance, not fear. Miraak had turned the temple he supervised into a fortress, and started killing dragons, taking their souls as if he'd been a dragon himself. His treason had been revealed by the ruler of Solstheim, another Dragon Priest named Vahlok, who took it on himself to kill Miraak.
They fought both inside and outside the temple, a prolonged and brutal battle of powerful magic, weapons, and Thu'um. Storms and earthquakes raged around the combatants, one particularly severe quake ripping a wide chasm that separated Solstheim from the rest of Skyrim. Frinfahdaan's memory showed it clearly as the battle continued.
After almost two days, Vahlok gained the upper hand and was about to strike the killing blow when a huge mass of dark, writhing tentacles seized Miraak and vanished.
Yssha knew she wasn't getting all of the story. She couldn't, since she hadn't absorbed Alduin's soul thanks to Bormah Akatosh's claiming it instead, and the most important other dragon participants - Paarthurnax, Odahviing, Dovgrahaak - were still alive. Plus she had nothing at all from the human side; those participants were in Sovngarde or whatever other afterlife their souls were suited to. But that it had been a ruthless and hard-fought war on both sides was something she now felt deep in her soul, and she knew she'd do anything in her power to keep such devastation from happening again.
She sensed approval and satisfaction. This phase of her tempering was over; there was only a bit more she needed to be shown, and that she could get gradually, later. But her rescuers weren't quite ready, and while her vahriinne were angry about her captivity and mistreatment, that was something to be expected in wartime. No, the fury Bormah wanted them to display would have to come from something dov found totally abhorrent but was routine to all of Tamriel's vodov races. And it was something she needed to learn in her own body, not in dov memories.
Helgen
Kiraya and Erandur had decided to remain in Helgen, doing whatever work became available, once they finished their errand to Blackreach. It didn't seem likely, but they wanted to stay fairly close to Lakeview Manor in case they could be any help to her current team. They were currently sitting in the Helgen Inn and nursing mugs of, respectively, sweetened cream and ale. Kiraya had learned that admiring her claws and suggesting a friendly brawl shut up most Nords' scorn of milk-drinkers, which she thought amusing was beginning to enjoy. She was Khajiit, of course she liked milk! Or even better, cream, especially with a spoon of moon-sugar, but that was hard to find in Helgen. Normal sugar would do for now, Though Kharjo had promised to bring her some real moon-sugar next trip, assuming she was still here.
The inn was getting crowded, so she wasn't too surprised when a man and a woman took the other side of the table across from her and Erandur. Altmer, from their attitude obviously close, probably married. She purred. "This one is Kiraya of Orcrist, her companion Eradur, a priest of Mara."
"Voranil and Caranya, formerly of Alinor," the man replied with a smile. "We've been in Skyrim for some time, though. Farming outside Whiterun, most recently, until we learned how Skyhold welcomes those of all races. Which seems to be true."
"Even an Argonian in the City Guard," Caranya said. "That, from what we've seen, is unprecedented. And the Jarl a Khajiit, though her being Dragonborn probably accounts for that."
Kiraya chuckle-purred. "Erandur and Kiraya were briefly part of her personal adventuring team, and may be again. It was fun while it lasted, and the reason this one is in Skyrim at all. May she ask your reason?"
Voranil shrugged. "This late, and with the Thalmor hunted Empire-wide, why not? Our son Sorcalin is - or maybe now, was - a strong mage, and they tried to recruit him. He fled, and the Thalmor thought we had something to do with it. They captured and interrogated us - not as harshly as some - and eventually released us. They'd taken our farm, of course, and everything else we owned, just on suspicion. So we fled to Cyrodiil, claimed asylum, and were granted a loan to start over. We paid it off ten years later, then moved to Skyrim just in time to be suspected of being Thalmor ourselves because we were Altmer."
"We lived that down," Caranya added. "It took time, of course, but we'd been fortunate enough to buy good land, and magic helped in cultivating it. For farmers, we were fairly prosperous. Then came the dragon attack, and what happened afterward. When we heard Helgen had been rebuilt, and the surrounding farmland was relatively inexpensive, we came to check it out. We're in negotiations with Steward Lydia for a promising fifty-acre plot."
"You're fortunate the High King decided there was no point any longer in keeping Altmer or Bosmer out of Skyhold, once the Dragonborn surrendered to the Thalmor," Erandur said.
Kiraya thought for a moment, her ears twitching. "Your son's name is Sorcalin, you say?"
"yes - do you know anything about him?" Caranya asked, not sounding very hopeful.
"This one has heard that two close friends of the Dragonborn, one of them an Altmer Master Mage named Sorcalin, along with his friend Andreius Hargan, have returned to Lakeview Manor. She escorted them, and translated for them, for several months in Elsweyr. This one has not known a great many Altmer well, but she believes there is a greater than random resemblance. It is no guarantee, but - "
The couple stood, and Voranil smiled. "But it's something we need to check out," he said. "The Manor is east of here, I believe."
Erandur nodded. "Lady Mara grant he is your son."
"Thank you, Brother," Caranya said. "It would be the answer to almost two centuries of prayer, if so."
The two Altmer didn't say much as they started out the city's eastern gates. It seemed too much to hope for, but they didn't dare not check out the first lead they'd had in decades. They'd been walking for a bit over two hours when a Khajiit in that scarlet surcoat met them.
"This one is J'zargo, rider of Ahkrinbo," he said "He wishes to inquire why you are bound for Lakeview Manor."
"Voranil and Caranya, hopefully soon of Helgen," Voranil introduced them. "Pursuing a very remote hope, Skyguard. We are hoping, despite the odds, that the Sorcalin staying at the Manor is our son."
"Ah, a Family affair." J'zargo sniffed delicately. "It is a possibility. Your scents are similar. Go ahead."
Approaching the Manor, the two Altmer were hesitant. A dragon near the door, a Nord in gold-embroidered surcoat rising to meet them. "Ralof of Riverwood, with Ahkrinbo," he introduced himself. "Your business?"
"We would like to see Master Mage Sorcalin," Caranya said. "There is a ... faint chance he is our son. If he isn't we will depart, and not return to disturb you."
"There's a resemblance," Ralof said. "Just a moment, and I'll see if he's free."
Inside, he found Sorcalin and Andreius at the table in the main hall. "Sorry to bother you, but there's an Altmer couple outside who say there's a chance they might be Sorcalin's parents."
The two rose, and Sorcalin sighed. "I suppose I should check, but the odds aren't very good. If we even remember each other - it's been a good two centuries since I've seen them."
It was with some hesitation that he stepped outside, followed by Andreius and Ralof. As soon as he saw the couple, though, his hesitation vanished. They hadn't changed much in the last two centuries, except for looking like they'd been through some hard times. "Mother? Father?"
"Sorcalin!" And he was in their arms, his mother sobbing, his father still a bit disbelieving.
Ralof grinned and went back inside, to tell the rest. Some good news amid all the worry and tension of the last several weeks would be more than welcome, he thought.
The trio were still in a huddle when he re-emerged, the rest of the household with him. When it broke up, Marcurio approached with a smile, Grams close behind him, while the rest hung back. "Welcome to Lakeview Manor," he said, introducing himself and Grams.
The next few minutes were spent exchanging introductions, then Sorcalin's mother looked at her son. "You're moving in exalted circles, son. I can see we have a lot to catch up on."
Grams grinned. "Come on inside, and you can do just that, and have something to eat and drink at the same time."
"We don't want to be any trouble," Voranil protested. "We just wanted to find out if this was our Sorcalin - we didn't intend to intrude."
"Believe me, we don't consider it an intrusion - hosting your reunion would be a welcome distraction. Please, let us share your joy."
Caranya smiled. "When you put it that way, Champion - we follow the news, and we understand what you're going through, with a beloved family member missing and in enemy hands. We feared the same was true of Sorcalin, when he disappeared."
Sorcalin let his regret show. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you anything - the Thalmor were too close behind me. I hope my disappearance wasn't too hard on you."
"Inside," Grams said, grinning, and nothing more was said until they were inside and settled at the dining table in the main hall. "And no titles, please - I'm Ysshaya."
Then Voranil turned to his son with a shrug, answering his concern. "The Thalmor took everything we owned, and imprisoned us for about a month, but we weren't tortured, unlike many others. All in all, we got off pretty lightly, and when we were released, we made our way to Cyrodiil. The Empire granted us asylum, including a loan to get re-established, and after the required residence and education, we became citizens."
"The Empire's good that way," Marcurio said.
"Yes, they are," Caranya agreed. "Talos grant they remain so."
"Talos?" Sorcalin asked curiously. "You've begun worshipping the Nine?"
"When his people are the ones who welcomed us when our own essentially threw us out? Of course." Caranya chuckled.
The conversation went on late enough that Rayya put Freyr to bed, and an hour later insisted that they be quiet so the boy could get his sleep.
Imperial Military Camp, near Valenwood border
Praetor Marcus called out one of the prisoners who'd been tossed in the brig for inappropriate fighting. Antonius happened to be one of his aides, with a temper that was a little more fiery than it should be.
"What do you think of the Altmer?" he asked.
"The kid?" Antonius grinned, then shrugged. "Good kid. Not aggressive, so it's not surprising he ran rather than face either Faal Mungrohiik or his superiors. Planning on anything special for him?"
"Not with that evaluation. I'd hoped he might be turned, but if he's non-aggressive, that wouldn't do us much good. So send him behind the lines, I suppose, and intern him for the duration."
"Probably best. Maybe groom him for some administrative position after we win the war."
