A Doom Driven Hero: Dragonborn Chapter 3 – Third Time's a Charm
Marcus awoke in a pleasant wooden cottage. The beams above him criss-crossed in a symmetrical fashion, coloured the deep brown of aged oak. The air was pleasantly warm, and he could hear the faint crackle of a fire. He tried to sit up, but his muscles felt very stiff and his chest flared in pain whenever he moved.
This happens way too often, Marcus thought forlornly to himself.
He craned his head from side to side, taking in his surroundings. He was in a small yet comfortable hut, big enough for a table, a bed, and a chest. To his right was a stone fireplace, with a single log burning slowly over glowing embers. To his left was Serana. She was slumped up against the side of his bed, seated in a chair.
She was dozing softly, indicating she'd been there for quite a while. Someone had placed a blanket over her shoulders, and she'd unconsciously wrapped it around herself a little more. He surge of warmth in his chest seeing her like that, by his side until she'd probably dropped into a deep slumber from tiredness. Then he felt a pang of sadness at having put her through such an ordeal.
It was always easy for him. Time passes differently when you're unconscious, and not just asleep. When you're sleeping, most people get a distinct sense of time having passed, albeit in a rather disconnected fashion. When you're unconscious, there was no sensation of the passage of time. It was just oblivion, until you wake up.
So Marcus had no idea how long he'd been in that bed, recovering. He hadn't waited like Serana had, he didn't have to experience any of the anxiety or stress. He hated it, how easy it was for him to just remain 'off' until he was ready, while she worried about him.
"Hey," Marcus said softly, gently touching her arm.
Serana stirred awake, her sleepy eyes fluttering. As they opened properly and she saw him conscious, she instantly rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she promptly half-smothered him in a long kiss.
"You've got to stop doing this to me," she said with a half-smile, once they'd broken apart.
Marcus gave a sly grin. "When you give me a kiss like that every time it happens, you don't help your argument."
She sighed, and sat back in the chair. Marcus gestured with one of his hands to the building around them.
He asked, "Where are we?"
"Frea's village," Serana explained, "They had a spare hut for you, seeing as much of their village is 'enthralled' elsewhere. After you read that book you seemingly got sucked inside the thing. A few minutes later it spat you out, unconscious and half-dead. Frea lead the way out, while I carried you."
"I see." Marcus nodded. "I'm sorry."
Serana smiled. "It wasn't easy."
He frowned. "I'm not that heavy. In any event you're twice as strong as I am, and I can flip a carriage."
"I wasn't complaining about the weight." Serana said, a token quieter. "You ever had to carry the silent, dead-weight body of someone you care about?"
Marcus went silent. A few memories drifted through his mind. Lydia. Erik.
"A few times," he said somberly. "I wish I hadn't put you through it."
"What happened in that book?"
Marcus breathed in, then began explaining. The world, the creatures, and Miraak. He hesitated when he got to their fight.
"He was…" Marcus let out a breath of air. "There's no other way to put this… He's Dragonborn."
"What?!" Serana exclaimed. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. The air around him teemed with energy, and he practically tossed me about like a doll. Then there was the shout he used… I have no doubt."
"By my blood..." She breathed. "Another Dragonborn? I thought you were supposed to be the last?"
"I still am, in a way." Marcus shrugged. "Miraak is most likely one of the really early ones, I'm guessing, and he's somehow avoided death."
"The leader of these people will want to hear this." Serana said. "And as much as I hate to force you up, it seems their time is running short. Can you walk?"
"I think so. Gimme a hand."
Marcus leaned forward and grasped her arm firmly, and she helped him climb out of bed and get onto his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but got his bearings quickly.
"Breathing hurts," he complained, attempting a stretch but only getting halfway through before he began to get fuzzy vision from the pain.
"Lean on me more," Serana said, wrapping an arm around his upper back and supporting him. "It's not far outside."
The pair slowly walked outside, into the cold snowy air. A few metres outside was a small triangle formed by three nords in thick fur coats, with a strange pillar of watery air rising out the ground between them. Craning his neck up, Marcus could see that the pillar formed some kind of semi-transparent dome around the village.
Speaking of which, Frea's hometown wasn't particularly big. It was more of a tribe. A small cluster of wooden buildings, with a well and a forge in the middle. It looked… cosy, though. It had a close-knit, simple vibe. Homely, even.
Frea was leaning against a tanning rack a short way away. She quickly came over.
"You're up sooner than I expected," she stated.
Marcus smiled, and gestured with his head to his bandaged chest. "This? This is nothing. I'm just warming up."
The nord warrior raised an eyebrow. "Come, we must speak to my father, Storn."
She led Marcus and Serana over to the triangle of people. One of them, the oldest man there, looked up.
"I see the traveler has awoken." Storn spoke in a gravelly voice. "Do you have news from the temple other than what my daughter told me? Is there a way to free my people?"
Marcus shook his head. "Not exactly, though I know the source of the problem. A man named Miraak."
Storn hung his head. "I feared that would be so."
Frea started, then shook her head in confusion. "But how is that possible? After all this time?"
"There is too much we do not yet know." Storn sighed. He looked weary. If he'd been maintaining this barrier since before Frea had even left for the temple…
Akatosh… Marcus thought, growing amazed. How many days since he's even slept? Since any of them have?
Storn turned his head to face him. "How did you find out Miraak is behind our struggle?"
"I read a book," Marcus said, rubbing his chest unconsciously where he'd been injured. "It took me to some… place. A plane of Oblivion, it felt like. Miraak was there."
Storn looked sideways at the ground. "I see… legends speak of that temple, and that there was something buried beneath it worse than the Dragons that razed it to the ground. What you say confirms those legends, and my fears. Miraak was never truly gone, and now has returned."
"Gods..." Frea breathed.
"If you could go to this place, and see him..." Storn looked at Marcus with growing hope. "Are you like Miraak? Are you Dragonborn?"
The young man nodded. "Yes. I am."
Frea's eyes dawned with understanding. "So that's how you were able to use those shouts in the temple?" Her eyes shifted to annoyance. "You told me you were just a fast learner..."
"Hey, I was just protecting a few secrets." Marcus shrugged apologetically. "And on this island at least, being Dragonborn hasn't seemed to be the most popular occupation."
"You must be connected to him, in that case," Storn continued, ignoring Marcus' quip. "The stories say he too was Dragonborn."
"I know," Marcus rubbed his throat where Miraak had gripped him with inhuman strength. "But what do you mean, connected?"
Storn looked hesitant. "I am unsure. It may mean you could save us, or it could mean that you will bring about our destruction."
Marcus and Serana shared a concerned glance at this.
The old man looked up again, the hesitation fading. "But that doesn't matter right now. Our time is running out. We cannot protect ourselves for much longer. You must go to Saering's Watch, and learn the word that Miraak learned there long ago. It will give you the same knowledge over the stones as he has."
"How will that free your people?"
"The structures being built around the shrines corrupts the mind. I believe if they can be destroyed, the 'trance' that has befallen the workers will be lifted."
"Well, I guess it's all we've got." Marcus chewed his lip. "Very well. I'll set out immediately."
"Marcus," Serana frowned. "You're barely standing upright as-is. Maybe you should take a little more time before we go off again."
"Nonsense." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I'll walk it off."
The young man headed off to find his equipment, leaving Serana standing next to Frea with an expression that was equal parts exasperated and proud.
Frea frowned at him. "He's either an exceptional warrior or a fool. Is he always like that?"
"Yep." Serana nodded with a grudging smile. "It's kind of his best and worst trait at the same time."
"Do you think he'll be able to do it? Save my people?"
Serana nodded. "If he can't, no-one can."
"I'm guessing you two are…?"
"Lovers. Yes."
Frea nodded quickly. "Of course. How long have you two known each other?"
"A few months."
She blinked. "Really? That's… not very long. Not by our standards at least."
Serana frowned. "By normal Skyrim standards, it's longer than normal."
"Hmmm…" Frea shrugged. "Well, we Skaal are rather old-fashioned. It just seems odd to… be at that stage within months of meeting, especially when you aren't yet married."
"Well..." Serana fidgeted a little. She felt uncomfortable discussing it. "Those few months were incredibly busy..."
Frea held up her hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to justify yourself. I'll go join my father. We will pray for your safe return."
Frea walked off to kneel beside her father and provide her strength to the small ritual they were doing, leaving Serana to second-guess herself.
"What do you think Storn meant about me?" Marcus asked Serana as they walked through the snowy landscape.
She turned to face him, the wind whipping her dark hair about. "You mean how you might bring about their destruction?"
"Hmm."
Serana shrugged. "He didn't say it was a certainty. You should keep in mind you're exceptionally powerful. It could be more that you 'can' do that, even though you never will."
Marcus chewed his lip. "Not knowingly perhaps."
"If that happens and you do unintentionally hurt them, then it couldn't have been avoided."
"But..."
"How are you supposed to stop something you are unaware of?" Serana asked him.
"I..." Marcus sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know."
She smiled and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. "You've got to stop worrying about the things you can't control, Marcus."
He breathed out. "You're right. Of course." He looked up. "We've reached the top of the mountain. We must be close."
Serana nodded, and the pair drew their weapons, moving closer to the nordic ruins in the distance.
The Dragon let out one last roar, and collapsed to the ground. Marcus made sure to dive out of the way so he wasn't crushed under its falling head. His robed armour was covered in black blood from where he'd slashed open the wyrm's throat. Serana walked up behind him, discharging the lightning bolt she'd prepared in her hand. Against Dragons, she always felt like a spectator with Marcus around.
Not that she was necessarily complaining. She hadn't had enough chances to watch him take down a Dragon, and seeing him in his natural state was always impressive. He moved with a fluidity and sense of confidence that made her… excited.
Marcus stood up, and watched the corpse of the beast begin to burn. A moment later, he frowned. "Something's wrong."
The body lit up like a bonfire, the energies released, but they didn't move towards Marcus. The dragon soul flowed out of the creature's body, to a spot directly behind him. The pair turned to see it being absorbed by someone else. Miraak.
Marcus didn't hesitate. As soon as he saw the man his dagger was wrenched out of its sheathe and flung through the air, but to no avail. The blade sailed harmlessly through the space that housed Miraak's head. The man wasn't actually present.
"It takes a strong will to command a Dragon's soul." Miraak said, his voice half-humored. "Perhaps you aren't as powerful as you think."
"You bastard." Serana growled, sparks dancing between her fingers. "Face us properly."
"In time, vampire queen." Miraak turned to face her. "Hermaeus Mora has told me much about both of you, and unlike your relationship, I will not be rushed."
"Either fight me again or disappear, Miraak." Marcus spat. "But do not waste our time with petty insults."
"Are you sure you'd want to cross blades again? Even if I could travel to Tamriel physically? Your wounds from our first encounter haven't even healed."
"You won't lay a hand on him." Serana seethed, taking a step forward between Miraak and Marcus.
Miraak chuckled, and placed a hand to his chin in a thoughtful pose, "Your wench is surprisingly loyal, Dragonborn. I had wondered how you could be content with a Daedra's seconds."
Serana emitted a guttural sound, her hands turned white as she clenched them into fists. She started towards Miraak but Marcus restrained her form behind.
"Don't indulge him." He said softly. "Don't give him what he wants."
Serana gave another growl, her body twitching dangerously. But she began to calm down.
"Hah!" Miraak gave a short bark of laughter. "Did I strike a nerve?"
"We're leaving." Marcus stated, grabbing the enraged Serana by the shoulders and attempting to pull her away.
"Farewell kinslayer." Miraak said, inclining his head with mock respect. "We will meet again soon."
Marcus retrieved his dagger, then turned back and pointed at him in disgust, "Kinslayer? You fought the Dragons too, hypocrite. I'm just a lot more successful in the endeavor."
Miraak tilted his head to the side. "Who said I was talking about the Dragons?"
Marcus froze. Miraak faded out of reality, leaving him and Serana in silence atop the mountain. They remained still for a moment.
"I want to kill him." Serana said in a low, dangerous voice. "I want to rip him apart, limb by limb."
"I do too." Marcus said, almost surprising himself. "But nothing can be done right now. The best way to hurt him is by stopping his plans in Soltheim. Let's go back to Frea's village, see if we can't free her people."
He took a deep breath. "Then we'll find a way to get him within arm's reach, and this time we'll both be ready."
Frea looked nervous. Understandably so, Marcus reasoned. The fate of her village rested on him and his use of the shout. Storn himself wasn't certain that it'd work, but it was all they had. Marcus hoped the single word was enough.
It made him anxious, seeing the direct effect his actions could take. When Marcus 'saved' the world from dragons and vampires, there hadn't been any instant display of how things changed… how they improved. It'd all been in the background. He'd heard of dragon or vampire attacks less, seen fewer burnt farmsteads, seen less nervous townsfolk. He'd never actually stood beside someone and prepared to perform an action that'd either save or damn them. It was like stage fright, in a sense. The fear of underperforming.
As though she'd sensed his worry, Marcus felt Serana's fingers intertwine with his. He looked over, and she gave him a smile. He suddenly wanted to press his face against hers and kiss her passionately, but felt that with Frea standing so close by it'd be inappropriate.
Instead, he let go of Serana's hand and walked forward towards the wind stone. The five Skaal villagers were toiling away at the archways built around it, oblivious to their presence. Not for much longer, hopefully.
Marcus took a deep breath. The moment of truth. "Gol!"
An orange ring of energy, ringed with tinges of red, burst from him and slammed into the stone. Almost immediately the arches of the structure around the stone glowed red hot, with cracks filled with what seemed like liquid fire criss-crossing them. A second later the entire thing exploded, leaving only the central stone standing.
Marcus was about to say something expressing his relief when his voice was drowned out by a gurgling roar. The inky black water around the stone began to bubble and broil. Out of the centre of the churning liquid, a large black, chitinous monster arose.
It was a suitably terrifying creature, like some twisted God had meshed together a giant, a fish, and a Chaurus, and then given it a mouth full of tentacles. It reared to its full height, which was about the same as a building, and emitted another blood-curdling roar.
"Ah… shit." Marcus bit his lip, sizing the creature up.
"All Maker!" cried Frea in horror, drawing her axes.
The seemingly enraged monster swung one of its arms and smacked the closest one of the dazed Skaal workers that'd previously been slaving away on the stone. The force of the blow picked them up and flung them a few metres into the stone itself. They hit it with a sharp crack. A faint red smear was left on the carved surface.
"Wulf!" Frea shouted, running over to the man's aid.
The monster turned to swipe at Frea as she ran past it, but a fireball smacked into the side of its head and momentarily stunned it. It turned towards the source, Marcus, just in time to cop another fireball to the same spot.
"Help Frea get those people out!" Marcus shouted to Serana, pointing at the half-asleep Skaal stumbling around through the murky water surrounding the stone. "I'll draw its attention!"
Serana nodded grimly, and darted off towards the closest Skaal worker.
Ok, Marcus thought to himself. Let's see what Miraak's underlings can do.
He drew his sword and ran forward. The creature lurched toward him, raising a leg as he got closer and slamming it into the ground. From around its foot, a litany of tentacles burst upwards and lashed out at Marcus, trying to pierce through his clothes and impale the flesh underneath. The young man dodged most of them, and slashed the remaining few that he couldn't before they could harm him.
The monster was right in front of Marcus now. It swung a spiked arm at him, but he dropped to his knees and the limb went sailing past his head. As he slid along the icy ground between its legs he reached out with his sword and sliced the back of its right leg open, hoping that its anatomy was vaguely similar to a humanoid's and he'd just severed some important tendons. If that was the case, it'd drop to one knee and give him easier access to its head and neck, where a few well-placed stabs could bring it down.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
Continuing the swinging momentum of its arm, the monster spun around and smacked Marcus in the side. He felt a rib break as the ebony chainmail did nothing to protect him from the blunt force, and slid along the ground a few metres. He looked up and gritted his teeth in anger. With his left hand he released a blast of restoration magic through him, both healing the injuries and giving him a boost of stamina. Then with the same hand he reached down and pulled out his dagger, flinging it at the approaching monster as he stood up.
Marcus' aim was true, and the broad-bladed dagger spun through the space separating the two foes before sinking into its eye. Luckily, the anatomy of the creature was similar enough to a humanoid that the presence of the blade lodged in its skull created a suitable amount of pain.
The monster reared up, bending backwards slightly as it roared in pain and anger at the sky. Marcus, still sprinting, saw an opportunity and breathed in deeply.
"Fus, Ro Dah!"
The Thu'um filled the crisp snowy air with a crash of thunder and the sound of snow being upheaved from the ground. The blue energy smacked into the monster and transferred enough force that its centre of mass was pushed ever-so-slightly further backwards, which combined with its current sky-roaring position, made it lose its balance.
With a surprised grunt, the dark beast fell onto its back with a hard crash, and its long arms scrabbled at the ground in an effort to get back onto its feet. It didn't get the chance.
Marcus leaped over the creature's knees and landed on its chest, before practically throwing himself at its neck and grasping his sword in both hands. With the full weight of his body, his momentum, and his strength, the dragonbone blade crunched through the chitin armor protecting the creature's chin, and sank deep into its skull.
It shuddered and gurgled, spluttering foul-smelling blood onto Marcus' face, before going limp.
Marcus breathed out a deep sigh. He placed a foot against the thing's head, and wrenched out both his sword and dagger.
He looked around. Serana and Frea were standing just a short way away. Serana's mouth was shaped into a knowing smile, while Frea's was hanging open like a trapdoor.
"Is everyone ok?" Marcus asked, clambering off the corpse and walking over.
Frea blinked and shook her head to clear away the bewilderment. "I… no. Wulf is badly hurt."
She lead him over to the man who'd been smacked into the stone by the monster. The left side of his face was bloody and bruised. No doubt he'd have cracked his skull. He was still breathing, but his time was running out.
Frea spoke quickly. "If we can get him back to the village my father might be able to help. Could you give me a hand carrying him?"
"No need." Marcus stepped forward and knelt at the man's feet. Calling the soft glow of healing magic into his hands, he reached forward and gently placed his palms on either side of Wulf's head. Unlike how he normally cast it on himself, Marcus poured magicka into the older man slowly, and carefully. No rapid bursts of energy. About 10 seconds later, the man's face was back to normal, aside from the drying blood.
Marcus stood up, breathing out a sigh of relief. "He should be fine now. Might have a bit of dizziness for a day or so, but that's to be expected with brain injuries."
Frea looked stunned again. "I… we are in your debt, Marcus."
Marcus frowned while smiling. "What was I supposed to do, let him die?" He bent down and picked Wulf up, carrying him in his arms. "Go gather the rest of them. Let's get back to your village."
The fire was small, given the cold air of the Solstheim mountains. It was hard to find proper firewood in the ashy landscape as well, but Marcus had managed. He and Serana appreciated the warmth it gave off, even if neither of them had felt like cooking or eating anything. Not that Serana needed to eat at all, but she liked to do it most days anyway. Kept her in touch with her humanity, she'd said.
But not tonight. After freeing every stone on the island from Miraak's control, Marcus and Serana were dead tired. They mostly just sat in silence, each waiting for their minds to think themselves to sleep. But with such thoughts, came questions.
"What did Miraak mean by kinslayer?" Serana asked quietly, almost wary of testing the waters of this conversation. She didn't want to make him mad.
Marcus looked up at her, his expression conflicted. Then he just sighed. "I… It's about what happened to me back in Cyrodiil. I thought I'd buried that a long time ago, but looks like the world still keeps finding ways to haunt me with it."
"You mean… your family?"
"Yeah…" Marcus nodded slowly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I never do."
"Well, would talking about it help?"
"I…" Marcus took a deep breath. "Probably. It's just not something I ever want to think about, let alone share with anyone close to me… but we've been through enough together that you deserve to know. Just not now. Give… give me some time to get my thoughts in order."
"Of course." Serana said gently, nodding. "Take all the time you need."
They sat in silence for a while longer. Marcus picked at his fingernails, musing on something.
"We had a couple close call today, didn't we?" He said finally. "Those 'lurkers' are tenacious."
Serana smirked, "What, you thought this'd be easy?"
Marcus chuckled. "I'm going to have to see about getting my proper set of armour up here. With how much fighting we've been doing, it'd make everything a lot easier."
"How are you going to do that? Skyrim's a long way away."
"I was thinking of employing the use of that smith in Raven's Rock."
Serana frowned. "How's he going to help?"
Marcus smiled. "You didn't notice me examining that marking out the front of his house? He's a member of the Thieves Guild. Or at least, he's got ties to them."
"I see." She nodded. "Makes sense. You think Delvin will ship it up here?"
"I mean, I am technically still the guild master. I'd want to hope so."
"Well, sounds fine to me." Serana's face sported a playful grin. "I'd look forward to getting to staying in a proper room at Raven's Rock, with a lockable door and a sturdy bed..."
Marcus shook his head with a smile on his face. "You're a goddamn nympho sometimes, you know that?"
"Are you complaining?"
"Not even remotely."
Storn was resting in his house. Most likely recovering his strength from the ordeal it'd been to protect his village. Marcus walked up beside him and sat down in one of the chairs close by.
He said, "I've cleansed all of the stones on Solstheim from Miraak's presence."
Storn nodded. "I can feel it. The balance of the living land has nearly been restored. I doubt it will fully stop what Miraak is planning, but it may slow his progress."
"That's not enough." Marcus shook his head. "I need to stop Miraak properly, now."
Storn sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I cannot help with that. There are none here who can. You will need the same knowledge Miraak himself learned. You will need to learn more about the 'Black Books'."
"Well, tell me more about these books, then."
"They are dark things, unnatural. I would have nothing to do with them, but the Dark Elf Wizard, Neloth… he is another matter."
"Neloth?" Marcus frowned. "I met him at Raven's Rock a while ago, he was studying one of the stones."
"Yes… I feel that man has too much interest in the magics behind Miraak's work, and too little interest in the evils of it."
"You think he'll know about the books?"
"I do. I believe he knows a great deal about them. Perhaps too much. He has already found one, and showed it to me when he came here in search of more. Seek him out to the south, but be cautious, Dragonborn. There is something else at work here."
"Ok..." Marcus chewed his lip. "I guess I'll go see him, then."
He stood up, and moved toward the doorway. Storn called out to him just as he was about to leave.
"Dragonborn?"
The young man turned. "Yes?"
"Beware. You are now walking the same road as Miraak."
Marcus looked back, his face expressionless. "I know." Then he pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked outside.
Serana was waiting for him, leaning against the well in the centre of the village. When she saw him she came over. "That was quick. Do we know where we're going?"
"You know that wizard, Neloth? We've got to go find him along the south side of the island. Apparently he knows more about those black books."
She frowned. "Why do we need them? The last time you used one you nearly died."
"I don't think all of them have a direct conduit to Miraak. Others will help me learn the same things he does, and bring him that much closer to sword's reach."
"Ok," Serana nodded. "Are we ready to go?"
Marcus thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I need to do some repairs on my armour. Fix up the holes that've been punched in the chainmail. It should only take an hour."
Marcus was working at the forge when Frea came up to him. She looked a little flustered at his shirtless appearance, since he was halfway through repairing the ebony chainmail that normally protected his torso, but looked like she had something to say nonetheless.
"You need something?" Marcus asked.
Frea cleared her throat. "Um… yes. I was speaking to my father, and we both believe I should go with you to this 'Neloth'. Acquiring the knowledge Miraak has won't be an easy task, and I want to provide assistance wherever I can."
Marcus looked her up and down. An almost imperceptible frown touched his face, but only for a second. He knew enough about people and their tell-tale signs during dialogue to know something was up. His mind quickly searched for possible explanations.
They're worried I'll end up like Miraak. Marcus realized.
He supposed it made sense. They didn't know him that well, other than that he was exceptionally skilled in combat. Storn had no way of knowing what kind of moral inhibitions he had regarding the accumulation of power or whether he would go down the same pathway, and Frea was extremely wary regarding pretty much anything regarding Miraak or other-worldly influences. Of course, it hurt a little that they didn't trust him, but Marcus knew he shouldn't begrudge them for it.
"Of course," Marcus smiled. "Serana and I will be grateful for the backup."
Frea breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She stood there for a moment, unsure whether to say anything more, then left before her cheeks turned any redder at his appearance.
An hour later, Marcus was finished with his repairs, and was standing at the very far edge of the village, looking out over the eastern side of the island. It was quiet. The ocean was far in the distance, the blue colour stained grey by all the ash filling the air. He'd told the others that they'd leave shortly, and then went off for a moment of quiet contemplation.
After hearing Storn's words, and seeing first-hand the corruption Miraak could sow in the world, Marcus knew the battle with the arrogant Dragonborn would once more be something that decided the fate of Nirn. For the third time in recent history, he would need to save the world.
It was practically asinine in his mind. He had to save the bloody world, again. Three goddamn times. Would it ever end?
How many times would he get wrapped up into another catastrophe? Why couldn't the Gods choose some other up-and-coming depressed soul to fix their problems? Was he just too good at his job?
Once upon a time, Marcus hadn't really cared. Being the tool of the Gods was something he'd just grudgingly accepted. But somewhere along the line, after he'd met Serana, that'd changed. He didn't like fighting anymore. He didn't want to feel the cold sting of steel raking across his flesh again. He didn't want to feel the burn of fire. Where previously Marcus had been apathetic about his purpose, now he was actively concerned about it.
And dare he think it, he wanted to change it.
A particularly strong gust of wind shook the snowy trees and ruffled his hair. He'd be lying to himself if he wanted, or thought he could have, a normal life. But he wanted something else. Something different to what he had now. Something more akin to what the few weeks after he'd confessed his feelings to Serana had been like. Casual adventuring, visiting his Guilds, meeting friends. No non-stop brushes with death.
Perhaps it was just his sanity returning to him. Marcus realized his current desires were technically not that unreasonable, but only seemed obscure and distant because of the frame of reference he had to compare it with.
Not that it mattered right now, of course. Me and my stupid introspection, Marcus thought to himself, sighing. He should be leaving.
Marcus didn't know exactly what kind of residence a Telvanni wizard would have, but he certainly didn't expect it to be a gigantic mushroom. The trio walked past a few apprentices practicing spells outside, with one of them looking suitably disappointed at the results of a conjuration spell.
"How in the world do you build something like this?" Marcus asked, glancing around.
Frea said, "The Dark elves are known to use these for their dwellings. It would make sense one as accomplished as Neloth would be able to 'alter' the growth rate."
Marcus scratched the back of his neck. "Wow. I should ask him for some of the seeds. I could use with some extra storage in Skyrim."
"No you couldn't." Serana frowned. "You've already got, like, six houses anyway."
Marcus grinned, then mockingly raised a hand to his chin in a thoughtful pose. "Maybe I should see if Raven Rock has any available houses too..."
Serana punched him in the arm. "I've had enough of the regal life. Don't you go starting a real-estate empire."
"Fine, fine."
Frea watched the exchange with a curious look. "You have six houses?"
"Yeah." Marcus nodded.
"Why do you need so many?"
"He doesn't." Serana smiled.
Marcus deliberately chose his words carefully, "I have a lot of important things I need to keep safe. Plus it's nice to have a place to rest in every hold, if I need it."
They walked through the door to the largest structure, Marcus leading the way. As soon as he went through the door, he emitted a cry of surprise and vanished.
Frea and Serana both rushed after him, and were also promptly whisked upwards by the strange magical air rushing up from the floor. They ended up being thrown onto the floor of a room, each girl landing on top of Marcus, who hadn't had a chance to get up. Unsurprisingly, Frea in all her armour was quite heavy, and the impact of her landing on him knocked the air out of his chest.
Serana quickly stood up off him, then just as quickly pushed Frea off as well. The warmaiden stood up quickly, her pale face a shade redder than normal. Marcus cleared his throat and stood up last. Neloth stood a few metres away, watching the entire affair with a bemused look. As Marcus turned around, the dark elf frowned.
"You again? Didn't I see you in Raven Rock?"
"Yeah," Marcus brushed himself off. "I'm the guy that lost his memory."
Neloth nodded. "Ah, I see. I take it you got it back?"
"Yeah. For better or worse."
"Good… The loss of your memory in particular would be rather unfortunate."
Marcus frowned at the statement, but figured if Neloth could grow a gigantic house-mushroom, he could figure out that Marcus was Dragonborn. "I've been told you know where to find Black Books."
Neloth looked surprised. "You refer to the tomes of esoteric knowledge that old Hermaeus Mora has scattered throughout the world? What could you know of them?"
"The books were created by Hermaeus Mora?" Marcus blinked. "Well… That explains a lot."
"You have the look of someone who's dealt with him before."
"Uh… I have. I've read the Oghma Infinium."
Neloth looked stunned, then very intrigued. "Have you? The actual Oghma Infinium? That's… I've searched for it myself for many years without success… Where was it? Where is it now?"
Marcus held his hands up in a 'stop the questions' gesture. "It was in a big dwemer box, and it's currently somewhere at the bottom of the sea of ghosts. I didn't exactly approve of the Daedra's methods, and so I cast the book away after our 'falling out'."
"Hmmm…" Neloth rubbed his chin. "You crossed Hermaeus Mora and survived? Impressive. You seem to have escaped the fate of many who find themselves ensnared by the lure of his secrets. Why do you seek the Black Books?"
Marcus explained in detail the things he'd discovered, and been told by the Skaal. He described his encounter with Miraak and the powers that'd been corrupting the land, and more importantly how those powers were able to be countered with the same knowledge that Miraak had. Neloth looked less concerned about the hostile powers infecting the island, and more… intrigued. Marcus couldn't help but feel perturbed by him. What kind of person hears about a potential takeover of the world and acts nonchalant about it?
After a brief dialogue regarding the Black Books Neloth had, and where Marcus could find one that was actually appropriate for his needs, Neloth reached a conclusion.
"While I have located the book you speak of, I haven't been able to access it. But maybe together we can unlock the secrets the Dwemer left behind."
Frea blinked. "The dwemer? What do they have to do with this?"
Neloth turned to face the Skaal. "Forbidden knowledge was something of a specialty of the dwarves. It seems the ancient dwemer discovered this book and took it to study. I found their 'reading room' in Nchardak."
Marcus asked, "Why weren't you able to get it?"
"The book is sealed in a protective case which I wasn't able to open at the time, but perhaps the group of us together will be able to get it..." Neloth looked thoughtful for a moment, weighing potential advantages and disadvantages in his mind. "Yes. I have decided. To Nchardak then. Follow me."
Then, without even waiting for their answer, Neloth grabbed a few items off a desk and floated down his air lift quickly to the ground floor.
Serana frowned. "A strange elf, for sure."
"Quite," Marcus mused. "I get the impression he's been through a lot."
The trio headed after Neloth, emerging from the mushroom into the open, and seeing Neloth conversing with an apprentice. After a few words, the apprentice ran off towards what looked like a storeroom, most likely gathering whatever Neloth felt he needed for the journey.
"Excuse me," Frea said to Marcus and Serana, "I'm going to go see if I can't get a little more information from him. I feel we are being left very much in the dark."
"By all means," Marcus gestured for her to go ahead. The nord warrior walked off, hopefully to pry some details from the mage before they ventured into what would no doubt be a precarious dwemer ruin.
The young man turned and instead walked a short way away, towards the edge of the complex. The ocean was a short way away. If he threw a stone hard enough, it'd probably hit the water. Serana came up behind him.
"I was thinking..." She began slowly. "If you're destined to be the 'Last Dragonborn', doesn't that mean you're destined to beat Miraak?"
Marcus shrugged. "Maybe. But that could just mean I'm the last to be born, or chosen, or created, or whatever. It doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to be the last to die. It might, but it also might not."
"Oh, I see." Serana looked forlorn. She clearly thought she'd found some kind of prophetical loophole that'd give them some peace of mind.
"It's a pain isn't it?" Marcus smiled wearily. "There's no predicting what plans the Gods have laid out, or what they intend. I don't even know if what they 'intend' is what ends up happening."
"Assholes..." She muttered, brushing some ash off her arms. "They seem to delight in throwing you into the fire, the least they could do is make it a bit simpler."
They both sighed. She walked over and hugged him, her weight pressing against him so that she was almost leaning on him.
When she spoke, her voice sounded weary, "It's going to get harder before it gets easier, isn't it?"
Marcus smiled, and stroked her hair. "Probably."
Serana sighed again. She tightened her grip on him, looking out over the coastal landscape. It was a nice view, if a little colourless. "Do you think we'll ever get peace?"
Marcus paused. A few thoughts ran through his mind, ones that'd been becoming more prominent in the last few days. He was conflicted on the matter, and yet at the same time he wasn't. He wanted to strive for that kind of peace, that kind of solitude where he and Serana wouldn't have to risk their lives to save the world. Yet, he felt like his place would always be there, at the front lines of whatever war plagued Nirn.
Marcus breathed out. "I do. One day. I'll make sure of it."
Author's Notes: I said this chapter would be out sooner. Turns out that wasn't true, huh? Really, I just had a bit of writer's block with the earlier sections, and got too many new video games to celebrate finishing my first set of finals.
You'll all finally get some closure on Marcus' past (pre-Skyrim) sometime over the next few chapters, probably before the final showdown with Miraak. Not sure whether to do a flashback-style scene or just have Marcus describe it. I'll probably do some drafting to figure it out.
Thank you for reading.
