A Doom Driven Hero: Civil War Chapter 4 – Peace in our Time
The snowfall was heavy. Thick snowflakes drifted lazily down from the sky in abundance, muffling all sound and covering everything in that purest white colour. Marcus was glad. It meant that his footprints leading up the side of the hill would've been removed in minutes.
He'd been waiting for about an hour. He'd received word from one of Delvin's contacts that a group of Thalmor soldiers and mages would be passing through the small valley that afternoon. He'd gone on to set up an ambush to ensure that nothing would disturb the on-going permanent peace talks between Ulfric and Tullius, officially. The Thalmor had been trying valiantly to get into Skyrim to 'witness' the discussions, but with no success.
Every boat that the Aldmeri Dominion sent over to the province was mysteriously sunk while at sea, thanks to the efforts of Odahviing. Every courier found themselves 'relieved' of their packages en-route to Solitude. Marcus had to ensure the same strange disappearances happened to their land parties.
Even though he vehemently hated the Thalmor, Marcus didn't like all the death he was causing. Or at the very least he tried not to enjoy it too much. He'd told himself it wasn't just his fault, though. The Thalmor could always take a hint and leave the province alone, but Marcus guessed their leaders thought the sacrifice of their subordinates was worthwhile if they had a chance of ceasing the peace talks.
He glanced around briefly, trying to spot those he'd brought along to help with the ambush. He'd gathered up a few members of the blades whom he knew personally. They were all too happy to tag along with him to show the Thalmor the consequences of underhanded political manipulation.
But as Marcus looked at his surroundings more closely, he realized something special. He'd been here before. More importantly, he'd been ambushed here before. This was where he'd been knocked unconscious the day that Helgen was destroyed. The same road he was looking at now had once been occupied by a stormcloak convoy, and where Marcus currently stood was no doubt where the Imperials had waited to catch them – and him – with a surprise attack.
He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. This was the best location to ambush anyone traveling along the border road between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. The knowledge still sent a tingle up his spine, however. It was… poignant, he felt, that this very spot was where it had all started. 3 years and multiple lifetimes ago.
Marcus was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of boots crunching against stone and snow. From up the hill to his right, the front of a marching column appeared. Thalmor, dressed in malachite armor. It seemed they'd decided to finally send the tougher troops into Skyrim, seeing as all the others had kept getting killed. A mild concern, but nothing more.
He waited until they were passing just below. Purple magic curled in one of his hands, and sparks danced in the other. He knew he would have to give the signal before the others attacked. When the time was right, Marcus slowly stood up out of the snow and cast both spells at the assembled mass below.
The chain lightning bolt arced through the Thalmor ranks, stunning most of them and disrupting their formation. Then the storm atronach burst out of a sphere of purple energy and promptly smashed into the three closest soldiers, disrupting them even more.
There were assorted cries of alarm, followed by cries of anger as several of the soldiers looked up and pointed at the now revealed Marcus. Weapons were drawn, and half looked like they looked ready to charge up the hill at him. The other half started battling the atronach, though their weapons weren't too effective against the stone behemoth. To compound their troubles, the young man still had plenty of magicka left.
He dual-casted another 7 chain lightning bolts down at the group, felling about 5 of them and injuring many more.
This constituted the 'signal' that Marcus had vaguely said would indicate it was time for the others to join the fray. From behind rocks and trees on the other side of the valley, a small group of armored individuals burst out. They didn't give any battle cries, they just silently sprinted down towards the road while drawing their weapons. Marcus allowed himself a brief smile. He'd chosen this group well.
The Thalmor, focused on the single man firing lightning bolts at them, failed to notice the encroaching blades until it was too late. They were caught entirely by surprise and another 4 were cut down in a matter of seconds. Marcus switched to a bound bow and picked off a few that were on the outer edges of the central commotion. The battle didn't last for longer than another minute.
Marcus met the others down in the centre of the ambush site. All the faces were familiar, but the one that stepped forward first was somewhat more so.
Jenassa smiled at him. "Like fishing in a barrel."
He smiled back. "Any injuries?"
"Derkeethus got a nasty cut on his arm, but Aranea's already healed it."
"Ok." The young man took a step back and surveyed their handiwork. Taking down over a dozen of Thalmor crack troops wasn't an easy thing to do, especially without taking casualties. "You all did very well. I didn't even have to get my hands dirty."
Jenassa raised an eyebrow. "Disappointed?"
"Not really. It's nice to see how far you've all come. I feel like a proud father."
She laughed. The humor wasn't lost on Marcus either, and he let out a chuckle. He was quite literally the youngest person standing there.
But his words weren't entirely in jest. He'd been the one to spur all of them to join the blades and had made sure to share as much of his own knowledge to them as possible, often overseeing training sessions in the time leading up to his escapades with the Dawnguard. It wasn't easy, with Delphine constantly trying to undermine his teachings out of some prideful desire for total control, but he'd managed.
The thought of Delphine brought a sour note to Marcus' thoughts. She'd certainly want to exchange some choice words with him over this particular 'allocation' of Blades personnel. She still believed the Blades shouldn't assist him in any way, since he hadn't slain Paarthurnax yet.
"Something the matter?" Jenassa asked.
Marcus waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing I can't solve." He moved to thank and praise the others in the group as they set about checking their weapons and armor. Worrying about Delphine could come later. They had a long journey ahead of them.
As they were about to leave, Marcus turned back to face the valley. He felt… wistful. That maybe he should take a moment to reflect on this spot, and the journey he'd been on. It was a fairly significant spot, after all. He hesitated for a few seconds then turned away to follow the others. It wouldn't change anything, and he didn't want to lag behind the others.
"Marcus!"
The young man swore under his breath. He recognized the grating voice of Delphine instantly. He had hoped to escort his friends back to Sky Haven Temple and sneak out quickly, to return to Windstad Manor and see Serana again. He didn't want to fight another exhausting verbal battle with the old warrior. It seemed though, his luck had run thin. Marcus let go of the door handle leading outside to the mountaintop training grounds, and turned around.
Delphine stormed up to him. "I don't recall giving you permission to take a group of my best fighters on some personal quest halfway around Skyrim?"
Marcus folded his arms. "I don't recall asking permission."
"I am the leader of these people." Delphine pointed at her chest emphatically. "And until you kill Paarthurnax, I have decreed you are to receive no help!"
Marcus gritted his teeth. "For the last time, Delphine. Paarthurnax helped me save the world. More so than you did. He doesn't deserve to die."
"You don't know what he did to us!" Delphine shouted at him.
He closed his eyes in frustration. Always the same arguments. "Did to us? For Akatosh's sake, Delphine. Anyone Paarthurnax wronged has been dead for several millennia. You need to let go of the past, especially when it isn't even your past you're holding onto."
Delphine grunted in anger. She reached forward and grabbed Marcus' arm before leading him outside. She stood on the balcony and swept her arm across the various pieces of training equipment, the forge, and the practice ranges.
"Look at this. What I have built. Paarthurnax puts it all in danger. With Alduin gone, he is the strongest Dragon left. What if he decides that one day we are a threat?"
"He never will." Marcus shoved Delphine away, his ire growing. "Paarthurnax has overcome his destructive nature. You should learn from his example, not try to kill him."
"My instincts tell me he needs to die, and I've survived this long by trusting those instincts."
"You're wrong." Marcus stated, taking a step forward. He pointed a gloved finger at her. "You, and every other remaining Blade are only alive because you hid yourselves away. You survived because you hid in a tiny town like Riverwood that the Thalmor never bothered to look in." He pointed back into the temple. "Esbern survived because he hid himself away in a rotten fucking dungeon. Fultheim survived because he hid himself in a tavern under a pile of mead bottles. The only thing your instincts are responsible for was putting you into contact with me. So listen to me now. Let. It. Go."
Delphine also took a step forward. She glared defiantly into his eyes. "Never. You cannot order me around. You are not the leader here, Marcus, and I think it's about time that fact became more well known. Leave now… and until you kill Paarthurnax, I forbid you to come back to this temple."
Marcus gaze hardened. His blood grew warm. His hand strayed down to his side, near the handle of his sword. "You wouldn't even be able to set foot inside this place without me..." His voice was a low growl.
Delphine continued, ignoring him. "If I see you in here again, I'll order my Blades to cut you down where you stand."
Marcus' fists clenched. He took final one step forward. A measured distance, to ensure she was within sword's reach. "Half of 'your' Blades wouldn't even be here if not for me..."
"I have spoken." Delphine spat. "Get out."
He saw it in his mind's eye. The action, the movement. All laid out from start to finish. A flutter of his fingers and his sword would be in his grasp. A twist of his arm and it'd be drawn. Her throat would be cut in the same action, the blade slicing through the front half of her neck as easily as it passed through the air. The arteries in her neck would spray out blood like a fountain, rendering her dead in a matter of seconds. It would be so, so easy.
Marcus' fist unclenched, and he turned away from Delphine. He slowly walked out of the temple, not looking back once. Now was not the time to start another fight, and he didn't want to deal with the consequences of throwing the Blades into disarray right now. He had enough to worry about for now. But one day soon he'd be back, and Delphine would have to either step aside… or die.
Marcus left the area quickly, not wanting to stick around for fear he'd succumb to his inner fire and return to the temple to hack Delphine into pieces. He made his way over the mountains and jagged outcrops, following a small path he doubted anyone but him and a couple deer knew of. He kept his eyes down at his feet, half his brain watching his footing and the other half thinking.
The Blades had so much potential. Not just as dragonslayers, or bodyguards of emperors, but as… stewards. Stewards of places like Skyrim, where threats to innocents were all too common. In an ideal world, he'd turn them into the kind of force that could do what he did. Traipse across the land, dealing with pockets of monsters, undead and whatever else threatened the people.
It wasn't selfish to be thinking things like that, Marcus reasoned. He wasn't immortal, and never would be. What was the harm in making sure things didn't immediately go to bad as soon as he passed away? Why couldn't he turn the blades into something more noble?
He figured he'd discuss it with Serana, and leave it for the time being.
Windstad Manor appeared over the last snowy rise like a glowing beacon, catching the rays of the afternoon sun splendidly. Marcus was only too happy to see it. His legs ached after crossing almost the entirety of Skyrim without a break, and dealing with Delphine had left him mentally exhausted.
He hoped that the Thieves Guild hadn't sent him any tips regarding other Thalmor incursions.
He couldn't count on the Blades for help anymore, not until he sorted out the civil war and could direct his attention to removing Delphine from the picture. So heading off to another corner of Skyrim to wipe out another group of elves wasn't high on the list of 'things he wanted to do' considering he'd have to do it without support.
Then the front door of the Manor opened, and Marcus promptly forgot all about his worldly troubles. He quickened his pace and swept Serana up into his arms as she soon as she was within reach. They embraced for several long seconds, each enjoying the feel of the other.
Serana breathed out a heavy sigh. "Next time you're taking me with you. Remember your promise?"
"It was only for a few days, and I needed you here in case something happened in Solitude."
"You did," she replied, putting emphasis on the 'did' part. "But that's changed. The terms have been all but set. All that is required now is an agreement from every Jarl and the acting High Queen, and then a few minor logistical things."
Marcus' face lit up. "So, they've agreed to it? Officially?"
"Yeah. I think you've actually done it."
He took a step back and breathed out. He felt a nearly overpowering sense of relief, but then chased it away quickly. "Well, we better not celebrate too soon. Things aren't set in stone yet."
"Oh come on." Serana pouted. She took a step forward and grabbed his waist, pulling it close to hers. "I think we can celebrate a little. The jarls of Skyrim will take a day or so to get to Solitude, so we've got time..."
Marcus grinned. 'Nympho. Was my absence that hard to bear?"
She tucked some hair behind her ear. "I worry about you. It gives me a lot of nervous energy, you know?"
"Well..." He placed a hand under her chin and pulled her close to give her a kiss. When they parted, he gazed into her suddenly burning, hungry eyes. "We better do something about that, shouldn't we?"
Marcus and Serana lay close together the following morning, under the covers of their bed. Serana was still asleep, Marcus thought. She kept murmuring intelligible things and snuggling closer to him, her legs entangled with his. He'd woken up because he'd had a troubling dream. It wasn't the first time he had it. Lately it'd been recurring.
Normally, Marcus' dreams were essentially just bad nightmares. Him being ripped apart by dragons, or eaten by trolls, or burned by dremora, or so on. They barely bothered him anymore, and he didn't pay them any thought after he woke up.
This dream wasn't like that. It was a good dream.
Which was odd, because he could count the amount of times he'd had a good dream since he came to Skyrim on one hand. The fact that this one was recurring compounded the issue.
In the dream, Marcus was looking over Lake Ilinalta from the southern side. He seemed to be on some kind of balcony, though he couldn't move to turn around. He felt like a spectator in his own body. He had a tankard of milk in his hand, and the sun had risen over the mountains in the distance. The view was spectacular. Birds were chirping, and the water sparkled. He heard a voice behind him.
Marcus couldn't make out the words, but they were warm and spoken happily. Someone sat in a seat next to him, but he still couldn't turn to look at them. They said another few words, and he felt himself reply. Still nothing audible. A woman's laugh followed.
He continued to watch the sun rise up above the far mountains. The temperature grew more warm. It appeared to be Spring, as few other seasons would give such a cloudless, sunny day.
Then Marcus heard another voice. Young. He felt something grasp his hand as it hung casually by his side. Suddenly he could move, and he looked down to see a child's fingers grasping his own.
Then he would awake.
The details would sometimes alter, but the premise was always the same. Lake Ilinalta, a nice day, with two people near him. One woman, one child.
Marcus didn't know what it meant. Was the woman Serana? Who was the child? Why was he sitting on a balcony? He'd been to that part of the Skyrim half a dozen times at least, he knew there weren't any buildings there.
Serana drew him out of his thoughts with a quiet yawn, and he felt her legs stretch. He glanced over just in time to see her eyes open sleepily. She smiled as soon as she saw him.
"What's... with the look?" She asked in a slow, dopey voice, as she somehow managed to snuggle even closer. Her bare body wrapped around his, quickening his heart rate a token.
"What look?"
"You've got that 'worried and lonesome hero' look again."
"Oh..." Marcus thought quickly. He didn't know if he should bring up the recurring dream. He doubted he'd been the first person to deal with one, and none of his other dreams had ever meant anything to his real life. Probably best not to worry her about it yet.
"I was just thinking about the Blades." He said in a casual tone. "I need to get Delphine out of the picture, and maybe turn them into something a bit more useful than dragonslayers."
Serana nodded and murmured, "Sounds like a good idea. She's a cow, anyway."
He chuckled. "Yeah… she is. I figured with some effort they might be able to do what I do, to an extent."
"Do what you do?" Serana looked up at him properly, curious.
"You know, take down bandit camps, clear out monster dens, investigate things. I won't be around forever, you know. It'd be nice to know that there'll be people to carry on from where I left off, as it were."
Serana's sleepy, 'morning after' expression vanished. Her face lost a little colour and she instantly broke eye contact.
"What's the matter?" Marcus asked.
"Nothing." She replied, too quickly.
"No, something's clearly up. What's got you spooked? Do you think it's a bad idea?"
"No, no. It's a good idea." Serana fidgeted under the covers. "I just… Can we talk about this later?"
Marcus sat up in the bed, forcing Serana to untangle herself from him and look up. "I've noticed this happening a lot recently. I bring up something to do with my age, or vampirism, or the afterlife, and you flinch like you've been stung. What's wrong?"
"Can't we just… I don't know… have sex again and forget about it?" Serana asked hopefully.
"No." Marcus shook his head, turning to face her fully. "There's something bothering you, and I need to know what it is, because I want to fix it."
She sighed, looking down at her hands. When she looked up, Marcus was taken aback. Her eyes were sparkling with tears.
"You can't fix it." Serana said. "No-one ever has. You're going to die."
"What? No I'm not!"
She shook her head. "Not now, but one day. Come 40 years, or 50, or even 60 if we're lucky… but one day you'll die like every other human hero."
"But..." Marcus' confusion faded. "Oh… And you won't have aged a day."
"No. I'll still be here, the exact same as I am now. Except I'll be alone. Forever."
"I mean… I can become a vampire again at some point if you -"
"No!" She cried, leaping up and grasping the sides of his face. "You're you, right now. You are how you want to be, and thus how you're supposed to be. I love you as you are now, more than ever. Becoming a vampire…. you chose not to go down that path."
"But that means the only possible solution is for you to… you know..."
"I know." Serana bowed her head and pressed it against his head. "I've been thinking about it a lot."
Marcus stroked her hair. "You never wanted to give up your vampirism. You said it was a gift, one that you endured hell to obtain."
"I know… It's saved my life – and yours – numerous times. But in the face of everything, you matter more than it does."
She looked up, her eyes suddenly burning with determination. "I will not endure an eternity without you. I… couldn't bear it."
"Well..." he gave her a reassuring smile. "The afterlife would get a pretty boring without you. But are you sure that's what you want?"
"I… I think so. I still need some time."
"That's ok. It's a big decision, and despite my 'relatively' short lifespan, we've still got quite some time."
"You're right." Serana breathed out. She leaned forward and hugged him. "Thank you. It feels good to talk about it, finally."
"Anytime. I owe you that much, at least." He turned to look out the window. The sunlight was bright, meaning it was now late morning. He sat up straighter, and climbed out of bed. "We better get ready. I want to check on how the talks at Solitude are proceeding, see if anything needs intervention."
Marcus slumped down in his seat and tried to stop his eyes from glazing over. He remembered his words from that morning… 'proceeding' wasn't how he'd describe what was happening.
The discussions progressed with the speed of an apple sinking through honey. Or at least, that's how it seemed to Marcus. He'd never been a fan of politics, or official ceremony. His attention span was shorter, more acute. He was better suited to respond to rapid, quick events, like deflecting an arrow with the blade of a sword a half-second after it was fired. A debate about trade deals and border rights going on for over an hour seemed like an eternity to him.
It's not as if this was the most efficient method either. Marcus had managed to initiate a sustained dialogue between the two opposing faction leaders less than a week after deciding to do so, and came up with the basis of the political plan they were currently describing. He knew he was probably smarter than the average Imperial politician, or at least had more sense, but surely some of them had to know how sluggish this event was being?
He was uncomfortable too. People kept looking at him like they expected him to say something, to offer a piece of pivotal wisdom to the talks. But unless they wanted to know exactly what parts of a Dragon's wing you could cut to prevent it from taking off, they were barking up the wrong tree. He was glad he hadn't decided to wear his Dragonplate set, because that would've attracted even more attention. As is, his robed scale-mail drew enough eyes.
Marcus leaned back in his chair. His butt hurt after sitting down for so long. The table was so large he could hardly hear what the others were saying, and had to query Serana multiple times to check on what they were saying.
They'd disarmed him as he entered too, which was annoying. Not that Marcus necessarily needed a weapon to kill everyone in the room, but he missed the reassuring weight by his side. He wondered what would've happened if he'd refused to hand over his gear. Would they have had the nerve to try and prevent him from entering?
Marcus entertained the thought of a fistfight with the building's worth of guards absent-mindedly, wondering if he'd have to resort to magic or not before incapacitating them all. He'd never consider it in actuality, but he was bored and his mind lunged at any potential distractions.
What a farce… Marcus thought, rubbing his forehead. He'd stopped caring about what Ulfric was talking about up the other end of the table, to what appeared to be some kind of imperial legate. He'd forgot why he'd even decided to show up.
Serana whispered beside him. "Careful. If you slouch in your chair anymore, you'll slip onto the floor."
Marcus snorted. "I wish. Might be able to sneak away in that case."
"You need to learn patience."
"Akatosh himself wouldn't have the patience for this."
Serana just chuckled. Marcus wished he had her tolerance to this sort of thing. Being a part of her father's court for several centuries seemed to lend her an advantage, go figure.
He glanced around, trying to figure out if anyone would notice if he turned invisible and snuck out. Then he noticed something. Elisif wasn't there.
Marcus sat up and looked around properly. She wasn't at her seat, though she'd been there about 20 minutes ago. Falk Firebeard was still there, which means nothing had gone wrong. Perhaps she just needed a break?
Or she's lost her nerve. He thought to himself. If Elisif didn't agree to giving Ulfric a pardon, the majority of empire-loyal political figures wouldn't either. Many of them might disagree to the whole thing. She was very important to the proceedings going smoothly.
He needed to find her, and make sure she wasn't going to back out. Too much was riding on these talks.
Marcus turned to Serana. "Elisif is gone, I'm going to go find her. Cover for me."
"What?" Serana hissed. "These people don't have a clue who I am! What if they need to ask you a question?"
He shrugged. "They've already asked me everything they needed to. Just tell them I heard a dragon outside or something."
Marcus slumped down in his chair until he was mostly out of sight, then went invisible with a silent prayer to Nocturnal. Nobody cried out in alarm, so all was good.
He then slipped away from the commotion, searching for Elisif. He didn't need to use detection magic. He figured she'd gone where he would've, if he needed to escape all the 'noise'. He found her a few minutes later on the balcony at the back of the Blue Palace. The east-most point in all of Solitude, looking out over the bay. If it wasn't dark, Windstad Manor would've been visible, barely.
Elisif glanced over at him as he came up behind her. The girl looked tired. Not even the dedicated skills of various handmaids had managed to remove all the signs of stress and fatigue. Or perhaps, Marcus was just better suited to noticing them.
"I'm surprised you've pulled it off." She said as he walked up behind her.
Marcus blinked. "My lady?"
Elisif glanced sideways at him. "I was standing here a week ago. I heard a particular sound from the bay below. Sounded like someone shouting in a strange language."
Marcus looked down at his feet.
She continued, "Now, that same night, Tullius disappeared to go to this 'secret' peace council. What do you think of that?"
"Uh… Hypothetically, if anyone had anything to do with ensuring the commencement of these peace talks, I'm sure they would want the fact to remain clandestine… for the sake of said peace."
"Hmmm… Well. I'm all for the peace, regardless of its source. But the cost..." Elisif's voice grew softer. When Marcus looked up from his feet at her, she was looking up at the stars as if she could coax some kind of strength from them.
"I don't think I can do it, Marcus." She said quietly.
"You mean… Ulfric?"
"He..." Her lower lip quivered. "Every time I think of him, I'm just reminded of my… of Torygg. Of what happened."
"I… I know how you feel."
"Do you actually?" Her voice grew bitter. Marcus wondered how many times those words had been spoken to her, without any truth.
"Well… not exactly. But once upon a time I lost literally everyone I cared about. I may not understand completely what you're going through, but I'd wager I understand more than most."
She looked back at him. "How did you deal with it?"
Marcus gave her a small smile. "Not healthily. But there was something that ended up helping, after a long while."
"What was it?"
"Uh… I had a second chance, of sorts. I got to set things right."
Elisif gave him a confused look. Marcus decided that now was as good of a time as any to enact his special plan. He didn't know if it'd work exactly, but Sovngarde owed him, so it should.
Marcus turned away and took a few steps back to the doors leading into the Blue Palace. He closed them to ensure no-one heard. Then he turned back and faced a spot on the far side of the balcony where there was a few square meters of space.
He breathed in. "Hun… Kaal Zoor!"
A light blue sphere of energy burst from the ground, manifesting into a portal. Elisif gave a small cry of surprise, which promptly turned into a choked gasp when she saw who stepped through the portal.
Torygg.
The young ethereal nord smiled at Elisif, who stood stone-still with her hands covering her mouth. Eyes as wide as dinner plates, she kept glancing at her husband and at Marcus.
Marcus gave her a warm smile. "You've got a two minutes. Make them count." Then he walked off the balcony, opening and then closing the doors behind him. He didn't want to intrude on something like that. They deserved some time together.
Marcus instead waited just outside the hallway, leaning against the wall. Four minutes passed, and then Elisif walked out. Her eyes were bright red, but the fatigue that he'd seen in her posture was gone. She was a little shaky, though.
"Thank you." She said quietly, releasing a heavy breath.
Marcus pushed off the wall and nodded once. "You deserved it."
"He said at the end that the living should not suffer for the honor of the dead… What does that mean?"
"I think you know."
Elisif was quiet for a moment. Her gaze was cast downward as her eyes darted about. Marcus kept his posture calm, but he secretly felt very nervous. He had no plan B.
"I need to go speak to Tullius..." Elisif said, drawing herself back up. "It's time I acted like a queen, instead of a widow."
She strode past him with a determined stride, and Marcus let out a breath of air he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. He followed a moment later, slowly slinking back into his seat. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed he was gone.
Serana glanced sideways at him. "How'd it go?"
"Good. I think everything will go ahead as planned."
Serana nodded and leaned back. "You missed a riveting discussion on trade tariffs."
Marcus rolled his eyes. "Oh no, whatever shall I do without that crucial knowledge?"
They shared a chuckle, and lapsed into silence. It didn't take Marcus very long to get bored again. After a while, he took out his journal and flipped through it. The pages were mostly empty. He took out his small quill and began drawing. Without properly thinking about it, his drawing took the form of a house.
A house with a wide balcony on the second floor, facing North-east.
Serana placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You sure you want to go down there alone?"
Marcus nodded. "He doesn't like unknown visitors. I'll only be 15 minutes anyway, don't worry."
"Think he'll give you the answers you want?"
"He'll give me answers… I'll make sure of that. I don't know whether they'll be the answers I want, though."
"Ok..." she tried to give him her warmest smile. "Take care."
Marcus nodded his thanks and kicked open the trapdoor. The inky darkness of the midden seemed like a portal to the void. He headed down the ladder. The light spilling through the trapdoor quickly faded as he descended. The midden was pitch-black when he reached the bottom, as it always was. This time though, the darkness seemed more foreboding… as if it knew of Marcus' inner conflict and tried to press in on him. He knew it was a foolish notion, but when he cast candlelight he felt a little better nonetheless.
The trip was quick and uneventful. Marcus had long since killed anything remotely hostile in the place, and destroyed most of the altars and artifacts. Eventually, he was in front of the door to Dunlain's chamber. He tried to open the door. Locked.
"Open it." Marcus said, somewhat quietly.
No response.
Marcus glanced around himself. "You know why I'm here, so you know I won't be leaving until I get some answers."
The door swung open with a sound like a defeated groan. The space inside grew in brightness until the Augur had appeared in all its blue, sparkling light. Marcus stepped inside and walked right up to the edge of the mass of colour.
Dunlain spoke in his rasping, whispered voice. "I... am not a voice to allay your every concern, wyrmblood."
Marcus frowned. "I don't know exactly how omniscient you are, Dunlain, but you should be aware of everything I've done in the last couple years."
"Yes…?"
He crossed his arms. "I think I've earned the right to ask a few questions at the very least, and you're the only one I feel might give me the truth."
Several long seconds of silence passed. Then Dunlain spoke again in a tired voice. "Very well. Speak."
Marcus relaxed his shoulders, and looked down at the ground. "I've done this for a long time. Saving the world that is. Whether it be from Dragons, vampires, other Dragonborn, or just stupid wars. I want to know if, or when, I'll be finished with this toil."
He looked up again. "It's not that I'm unwilling, or unable. I'm the strongest I've ever been, with enough forces on my side to rival an army. But…"
"You don't want to do it forever." Dunlain finished the sentence for him.
"I don't." Marcus sighed. "I want… I want to have a happy ending, or at least have the opportunity to try, one day."
More silence.
Dunlain rasped, "What do you want to know… specifically? I will decide if it should be said."
Marcus considered his words carefully. "What will be the consequences of me laying down my weapons, and living a life of simplicity?"
The Augur shimmered, collecting itself in a literal and metaphorical sense. "The heroes of old. The Champion… The Nerevarine. They made a choice that removed themselves from the hands of fate. They did not have to, nor were they without purpose at the time. Yet… the world remained safe, through the rising of subsequent heroes. Heroes like you."
"So..." Marcus spoke slowly. "If I decide I'm done, fate will turn to another in the event of any catastrophe."
"If… you are incapable of doing anything, yes."
Marcus nodded slowly, then stopped. "Wait. What do you mean, 'incapable'? Are we talking about the same thing?"
Dunlain didn't answer.
The young man took a step closer, practically entering the mass of light. "Stop giving me cryptic answers. People have been doing that shit to me for years, and I'm sick of it. Tell me straight, once and for all, without this irritating vagueness. Will I get to enjoy my life, without the burden of prophecy and fate pulling me into conflict after conflict?"
Dunlain shimmered, as if percolating. Weighing up what it should tell them. A noise that sounded like a sigh escaped the mass of light.
"You will have to make a decision. It will not be the decision you think it is. Depending on your choice, you will either reach your path's end… or start walking a new one."
Marcus frowned. "I said to not be vague."
"I have overstepped my boundaries one hundred-fold with that short statement."
"I don't care. Speak clearly. I've earned a proper answer."
"You… You will get what you want, eventually."
Silence filled the air. The augur looked weakened, as though speaking those last couple words had drained it. Marcus breathed out heavily.
He said, "I guess that's the best I'm going to get."
There was a tired hum of assent from Dunlain.
"I..." Marcus nodded to the mass of lights. "Thank you."
Another hum of assent was his only reply. Marcus turned and walked out, feeling he'd very much overstayed his welcome. He'd got an answer, anyway. Everything would turn out all right in the end. He didn't know when that end was, but Dunlain had put an emphasis on his own decision.
Marcus could decide what to do with his life. He could reach his path's end, which sounded a bit like death, or he could start walking a new path which would hopefully lead to what he wanted.
He weighed it up in his mind as he walked back through the midden. Continuing to do what he currently did… wrapping himself up in whatever trouble passed him by… Marcus knew that it'd kill him eventually. Maybe not for a while, but eventually age or luck would catch up with him and he'd die. Perhaps as a result of a crucial mistake, or succumbing to destructive temptation, or divine intervention.
To think that his life could be something else, that he could achieve the kind of peaceful life that the other heroes no doubt achieved… It made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. Hope.
Marcus started running. He suddenly had a desperate urge to see Serana again. They had some plans to make.
Author's Notes: Got one or two chapters left, I think. Though I've been saying that for about 2 chapters prior, so who knows when this'll end? Hope you're all doing well in this trying time. Be sure to stay inside and maintain social distancing, but make sure you stay busy as to avoid going crazy. Keep your loved ones close, and your toilet paper closer.
Thank you for reading.
