Chapter 34

Fall of the Lich King

XxXxXx

3E 427 – Bamz-Amschend, Morrowind

Nevano silently leaned against the old metal walls, watching the Dwemer spirit putter around peevishly, his mind numb. The past few weeks had been hell. That was the only way he could think to describe it. The whole power struggle between Helseth and Almalexia had slowly morphed into a power struggle between Almalexia and...the world. Things had spun completely out of control and every moment that Nevano allowed his mind to wander, he mentally berated himself for allowing himself to be caught up in all this. He didn't know what to do anymore except to miserably continue along this path.

"You have a choice. You actually have many choices, but you know you are the only one who can stop this."

A muscle twitched in his cheek and he mentally growled at Nerevar. He didn't want to hear it right now.

"This wasn't intended to be easy."

"Shut up." Nevano snapped out loud. "For over thirty years you've been completely silent. Now you claim you want to help me but where were you while I was slave? I heard nothing while my back was being whipped into ribbons and my feet sliced to keep me from running away again. Where were you when I was dying in that shite hole? It wasn't you who saved me, it was Modryn! I was arrested on a made up charge and exiled into Morrowind and still you remained silent. It wasn't until Azura had me trapped in that cave filled with dead bodies and ghosts and told me I was supposed to be you that you ever bothered to say anything! You've been this annoyance in my head for the past few months."

Nerevar said nothing.

"Now look. I'm in a damned Dwemer ruin, a pawn for a spoiled royal brat and an ex-god who is slowly losing her mind while the city outside is in the middle of an ash storm that I caused!" Nevano sucked in a deep breath, feeling it drag raggedly against his suddenly tight throat. "I just…I didn't want any of this to happen. I wanted to go home. I'd be in Chorrol by now were it not for those damned assassins. Now I…I'm talking out loud to something I'm not even sure is real or not, watching the ghost of a Dwemer float around trying to make an old butter knife catch on gods damned fire." The spirit in question gave him an odd look but said nothing. Even the dead were starting to think he was insane now.

"You weren't ready, lad."

"What?"

"You were not ready. You had to go through the worst of the worst, to live through it, to be as strong as you are now."

"Damn that!" Nevano exploded. "I never wanted this! I was happy being in the guild back in Cyrodiil! I was happy being nothing, a nobody. I never wanted this whole stupid hero champion shit. Now I have to watch everyone I love die. Until when though? Am I supposed to just exist until the world ends? Going from one conflict to another until time ends? Be that mystic hero everyone fawns over while the truth is I'm nothing more than the world's pawn? Is that it?"

"If that is what you choose to do." Nerevar said patiently. "You have a choice. You could have backed out of any of this but you choose to follow the path of destiny. Not because of the prophecy itself but, and you said this yourself, because it was the right thing to do. You can choose to go from battlefield to battlefield. There will always be a conflict somewhere. You can always choose to avoid these conflicts and devote your life to something more…peaceful. There is nothing to stop you. Your strength is your own, something you have earned through hardship and strife. You are a great man because of it and…"

"Stop!"

"Yes?"

"Stop. Stop the noble speech. It's giving me a headache." Nevano scrubbed at his face, his anger giving way finally. "You might as well say what you are thinking: 'shut up and keep going'. I'm no hero. I just wanted Helseth to stop sending his damn assassins after me."

"I was thinking 'shut up and keep going because you are the only mer with enough sense around here to fix this'. Everyone else is either insane or deluded by his or her own grandeur. Also, I think you've already accomplished your goal. Now it's stopping Amalexia from trying the same thing. Her methods are far more…convoluted. She is a far more twisted individual than the princeling."

"I think that's the closest I've ever heard you come to getting nasty." Nevano tried to smile but couldn't convince his lips for form the false grimace. He could appreciate Nerevar's attempts to make the situation better but it wasn't fully taking. He had thought he was done once Dagoth Ur lay dead at the heart of Red Mountain but he was beginning to see that that was merely the beginning. The thought that it would never end, that conflict would continue to follow him until something finally killed him, was absolutely terrifying. Was he truly doomed to walk this world until it all burned? He supposed he could always end it if it became too much. A blade through the gut or throat would do the job but…

He winced as he recalled watching the many opponents he had sliced open in the same fashion pathetically flop like a fish at his feet, blood gushing from the massive wounds, primal instinct desperately trying to cling to life. Some had died quickly but others took minutes to die, each agonizing moment growing more and more desperate for life, clawing at whatever lay closest. Nevano couldn't think of any point in his life, no matter how low, where he would prefer an end like that. He sighed and scrubbed at his face; he was too much a coward for suicide. It seemed his only option was to watch the world burn.

His dark thoughts were interrupted when the ghost of Radac glided over to him. The spirit of the old Dwemer soldier had initially scared him half to death, more so than even the Dwemer machinations that liked to pop out of the walls. After his initial fear had worn off and he discovered that the cranky spirit would not, in fact, kill him, he had gotten a small glimmer of hope. Currently the spirit seemed rather grumpy…at least more so than usual.

"I added that pyroil you collected for me." Radac huffed. "It should have that 'fiery blade' effect but I'm afraid nothing happened. Too bad. It's a nice looking blade otherwise."

Nevano picked up the wickedly curved blade. The hilt felt warm in his hand, almost as if it were a living thing. The blade glistened with its newly applied oil coat but otherwise appeared unchanged but Nevano could feel that something was different. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly along the blade, feeling a slight hum of energy coiled within the seemingly inert metal. It didn't repel him but neither did it welcome him. It was…waiting?

He ran his hand back down the blade, bumping his fingers over the spikes that hung like teeth from the underside. Just ghosting the edge started to unbraid his skin. This blade was so sharp it could easily slice through an ogre's hide and not lose its edge. He hovered his palm over the edge. The blade's magic swirled excitedly in anticipation.

He sank his palm down onto the sharp edge.

Instantly blood welled up from the deep cut and spilled onto Trueflame, staining its flawless surface red. Defying all laws of nature, his blood traveled up the metal, filling the blood groove from point to hilt. The whole blade reflected red and started to heat up under his hand. The air around him began to shimmer with heat. The magic was going wild within Trueflame. Nevano could feel it swirling like boiling water only it was…happy? He didn't know how else to describe it. The sword was celebrating. It had found its new master at long last.

Trueflame burst into flames. Nevano watched wide-eyed as the flames traveled up his arms and slowly engulfed his whole body. Unlike the usual minor annoying sting he usually felt when handling fire, he felt nothing from Trueflame but warmth. He was greeting his new sword for the first time. 'Nice to meet you too.' He thought.

"Huh, never seen a blade that needed a blood bond." Radac said. "Interesting weapon. At least it works. You got what you wanted. Now leave this old dwarf to his haunts. Go on!"

"I thought the Dwemer didn't use magic?" Nevano asked as he retraced his steps out of the ruin.

"They use magic, just not quite like the magic you are used to." Nerevar said.

"I'll take your word for it." Nevano said quickly, cutting Nerevar before he could go into a detailed explanation that would leave Nevano wondering if he could cut off the portion of his head Nerevar tended to occupy in order to shut him up. All he needed to know was that Trueflame's magic was not like the magic the rest of Tamriel worked on. It was a strange magic. One born of logic and science mixed with ancient knowledge. There was no way he could understand it and almost no need to. Trueflame had responded to him; they were now linked for life. That's all he needed to know. He had another ally in this seemingly unending conflict. Nerevar was right, as much as he loathed to admit it, but he was the only one that could end this. He just wasn't sure how much of a choice he really had in that ending.

XxXxXx

4E 201, 23rd Hearthfire - Mournhold, Morrowind

Nevano could only stare in horror at the monstrosity in front of him. When he last saw Helseth he had seen a painfully young king, handsome, devious and quite easily the most corrupt individual he had the displeasure of knowing. There was barely a recognizable trace of that mer left.

Shredded robes that once were the royal purple barely covered a body whose skin was dry and shrunken over bones as tight as a drum. Cold eyes glared at Nevano from sunken sockets, not burning red like a Dunmer's should, but a pale, sickly yellow. Pointed teeth were bared in what might have been a grin but Nevano had seen a far more pleasing smile on a dragon. There was hardly anything Dunmeri left of the former king of Morrowind. Nevano was far more reminded of Skyrim's draugr than mer.

"You...yes, I know you." Helseth said, his words somehow perfectly clear past those cracked lips.

Nevano licked his own lips in reaction. "It's not everyday I'm recognized by the undead. I knew I was popular but I didn't think you fetchers would come after me from beyond the grave."

There was a hissing noise from somewhere within the depths of that throne. Nevano wasn't sure if he should interpret that as a sign of anger or a normal noise that a lich would make. He seriously doubted he had made the creature laugh. If he had then he was hanging up his swords. He had made a lich laugh. That meant he had officially seen and done it all.

"The witty Nerevarine." He said. "You were always the most amusing little rat."

Nevano huffed in annoyance. "I do have a name, you know."

"None of the incompetent fools I sent could kill you. Not even that blasted bitch goddess could do it." Helseth held up a hand, admiring the overgrown, claw-like nails. Nevano felt his stomach clench. That was too much like Dagoth Ur for comfort. "You managed to squirm your way out of every situation through sheer dumb luck. I am almost impressed."

"You are confusing luck and skill." Nevano's voice remained steady. "When we first met you took me for a pathetic, scared, dumb fool. Admittedly, I was at least two of those things but I wasn't foolish enough to believe a word you said. Now, through skill, I have managed to survive this long. In my own body too, I might add. Look at what you've become. You are..."

"The embodiment of perfect power." Helseth rose up from his chair. Nevano swallowed hard and fought the urge to take a step back. In life Helseth had only been a few inches taller. Now he rose far above Nevano.

Trueflame and Hopesfire flared up brightly as Nevano gripped their hilts tightly. "I don't care what you are." He said. "You cannot keep doing this. I promised your own mother I would kill you. This ends now."

He drove it with Hopesfire first, landing a strike on Helseth's arm. The lich didn't even try to move or block the blow. Hopesfire easily parted the leathery flesh and bit down to the bone below. Instead of shattering though, Hopesfire was brought to a horrific, jarring halt, sending shock waves down Nevano's arm. His grip wavered at the unexpected jolt. It felt like he had struck a solid block of steel instead of bone. Black ichor oozed up around Hopesfire, causing the blue flames to flicker and hiss. Helseth didn't even react to the hit. He reached down, grabbed Nevano's arm in a terrifyingly strong grip and lifted him as easily as a child would a toy.

"Vith..." Nevano flew across the room and slammed into one of the pillars lining the room, the air knocked clean from his lungs.

"He's stronger than the average undead." Nerevar observed silently.

"I hadn't noticed..." Nevano coughed out. Then he rolled away with a yelp as lightning nearly split the pillar he was leaning against. He scrambled behind the pillar as more lightning struck all around him. "How am I supposed to kill something so damned strong? Even a dragon would think twice about this."

"The phylactery." Nerevar said, like an irritating child over his shoulder. "Look for the phylactery. All liches have one."

"What in the sixteen planes of oblivion is phlac...lacky...whatever?"

"It's a container holding his soul." Nerevar said flatly. "You've dealt with how many mages to not know this?"

"I never listened to them babble!" Nevano burst out. "It's boring!"

"Fine. Destroy the room. Maybe you'll get lucky and destroy the phylactery in the process."

"See? That is manageable. Lead with that next time!" Nevano put Trueflame and Hopesfire away and drew out Bonebiter. The lich was too strong for him and the powerful lightning magic was keeping him at bay but he was willing to bet that even Helseth couldn't stand up to Bonebiter's devastating sting.

He spun around the pillar and fired an arrow off. Bonebiter's power was incredible. Whatever it touched was ended up damaged, usually badly. Even a glancing blow on a limb would leave the appendage destroyed and useless. Nothing, not even stone or brick or even metal, could withstand a direct strike. The arrow flew straight and true. It would shred the undead's body.

Helseth caught the arrow before it even touched him, the arrow vibrating with pent up power in the iron grip.

"By the gods…I didn't even see him move." Nevano breathed. "How did he..." He cut off with a yelp as the rotted wood of the pillar exploded, showering him in splinters, when Helseth threw the arrow back at him, Bonebiter's power finally releasing, just not in its intended target.

Nevano ran from his own weapons attack. This time, instead of dread filling his belly, he felt angry. Bonebiter was his. He had delved deep into the Urshilaku burial caverns, had bested the spirit of Sul-Senipul to obtain the bow that would prove his worth to a people he had once been born to. He had worked hard to prove himself over and over to a people, no, to an entire province, that didn't want him. He was not about to let one spoiled, literally rotted, royal pain in the arse brat use his own weapons against him. Then a thought struck him; there were other ways to attack something rather than directly. Nerevar had given him an excellent idea and he was more than willing to try it out.

The next arrow went nowhere near the lich. Instead it struck one of the pillars, sending bits of rotted wood flying in all directions as it veritably exploded. Bits of the ceiling came crashing down, their support suddenly gone. Helseth growled as he moved out of the way of the falling debris. It wouldn't hurt him – Nevano didn't have anything in his arsenal that could actually hurt him – but it was distracting him. He just needed to keep the lich distracted until he could find that phylactery.

More debris rained down as he shot arrow after arrow all around the room, remaining in constant motion. Nevano had to admit it was rather fun destroying the room even as he felt Nerevar give what he equated to an exasperated eye roll, which he ignored. Nerevar gave him the idea after all. The stuffy old spirit had no room to complain.

"Enough!" Helseth sent the debris flying back towards Nevano. Nevano tried to duck out of the way but Bonebiter was knocked clean from his hands and sent spinning across the room. "Annoying little rat."

"There!" Nerevar said, as Nevano started to reach for Bonebiter. "Over there. By the throne."

The unassuming box sat at a place of honor to the right of Helseth's throne. The wood was old and blackened and its silver and gold bindings were tarnished and green. He would have disregarded it as junk had he not noticed the glyphs wandering idly through the grain of the wood. It could only be the soul box whose name he could not pronounce. If he could get to it before Helseth noticed and destroy it then this fight would be over.

Taking a deep breath, he darted towards it. He drew Trueflame and made a desperate slash at the box, hoping to inflict any sort of damage on the box.

"I don't think so, little rat."

Green light enveloped him, holding him in place. Cold snaked through his veins, making him feel like a block of ice. His breath rose in front of his face in a frozen cloud. It was a cold like he had never experienced before. He had experienced bitter cold in Skyrim before but never had it made him feel sick to his stomach before. Every instinct in him screamed that this was wrong, that he needed to get away, but he couldn't move at all. Then the ice seemed to shift under his skin, making him grimace at the sickening sensation. Trueflame slipped from his frozen fingers and clattered to the ground, its flame extinguishing before it hit the floor.

"Nevano!" He heard Nerevar from far away, as if they were shouting from across a canyon instead of in the confines of his own mind. He sounded...almost frightened. Strange. Nerevar had never sounded like that before. Nevano had gotten a variety of emotions from him before but he had never been scared before. This was bad then.

"So, Nerevar really was reborn after all...in you." The lich said. His voice seemed to echo within Nevano's body, making him shudder in repulsion. "Interesting. His soul is intertwined with yours. Nothing anyone had ever guessed before. No matter. It is easy enough to unravel. He is inconsequential. His soul is weak, not even worth the trouble of using. Yours on the other hand..."

Nevano couldn't feel the cold anymore. He couldn't feel his body anymore. Something deep within him snapped like a taunt wire being cut. He felt like he was being pulled away. Then realization hit him like a bolt of lightning; Helseth was pulling his soul free. He tried thrash free but Helseth's hold was already too strong. Horror bloomed cold in the pit of his stomach but that, too, was starting to feel distant. Fear was an emotion for a mortal body, something he was almost free of.

"Yes, you begin to understand." Helseth said. "I'm going to use your soul to feed my power. It is a strong enough soul that I can finally extend my reach beyond these walls and begin to take over my lands again. I do thank you for bringing me the Redoran. They will make perfect soldiers in my army in addition to the Ordinators. I also appreciate you sending Almalexia on her way. You thought you were cleaning up the city, but you were clearing the way for me instead."

Nevano tried to feel anger. He wanted its fire to give him the strength to fight back, but he couldn't reach it anymore. Hell, he would even take despair at this point. Even despair would be better than this emptiness but he was beyond the point of being able to save himself. One more pull and his hold would be lost forever. He was utterly helpless and he couldn't even feel disgust over it.

"The time is now." Helseth was positively gleeful, in as much as something mostly dead could sound gleeful. He turned his head towards the windows that overlooked the courtyard. "Go now, my minion, my little Autarch pet. Reclaim our army. Start with that stubborn whelp in Godsreach. That's another strong soul that will be put to good use. I believe you know him well, little Nerevarine. Between your two souls and the Autarch, my army will be unstoppable."

Veleth. He had to be talking about Veleth. Nevano thought that by leaving him behind he was protecting him but no. Helseth had been prepared since before they even came to Safepoint Adrusa. If anything, the dead king had been counting on a heroic rescue such as this. He had played them all for fools and they would all pay dearly for it.

'I'm sorry, Nerevar.' Nevano thought, hoping he still had the strength for the old general to hear him. 'Didn't quite think it would end this way.'

A small point of warmth bloomed in the pit of his stomach. Slowly it grew and began wrapping around him like a rope, pulling him back towards his body.

"Alone, I am weak, yes." The Chimeri general said grimly. "The dead should not have power in the world of the living. But through you, with you, in this spot where the veil is weak, I am far stronger than he realizes."

"When you were born, our souls were intertwined by Azura." Nerevar continued on. "Originally the plan was for you to simply have my power but Azura foresaw the amount of trouble you would get into, a good portion, admittedly, at her command, so she gave you my soul as well to protect you. I'm not sure even Azura could foresee the sheer amount of trouble you would land in. This being a prime example."

'He was forced...?' Nevano thought, his mind struggling to comprehend what Nerevar was telling him.

"No. I volunteered." Nerevar said simply. "It's been an interesting turn, viewing the world through your eyes."

Nevano thought at first it was sarcastic but Nerevar had a nigh nonexistent sense of humor. He was speaking the plain truth.

"You were always you, lad. I just made sure you didn't get killed along the way." Nerevar went on before Nevano could respond. "You aren't meant to die yet. Not here, not by this creature."

Nevano felt more...himself again. His fingertips twitched and he could feel the coldness of the lich seeping into his bones once again, prickling his flesh like thousands of needles. That painful cold was far more welcome than the terrifying sense of nothingness.

"What are you doing, you meddlesome relic?!" Helseth hissed.

"Promise me something, lad." Nerevar ignored Helseth completely.

"Promise...?" Nevano managed to form the words through numb lips.

"Gunjar already made you promise to cause mayhem. I know you will be able to fulfill that easily enough." Nerevar said. "I want you to promise me that you will win. I want you to defeat this delusional brat and then I want you to defend Morrowind and make the Thalmor sorely regret ever looking east. I don't want you to give up or give in. I want you to find the strength deep within you and make them all pay dearly."

"I was...going to do that anyway." Nevano said a little more clearly. "What are you trying to say?"

"Hopefully I'll be there for it." Nerevar said. "I do so wish to see the look on the Thalmor's faces when they see you, who is rumored to be dead or gone, coming towards them. I cannot promise anything on my behalf though."

"Nerevar?"

"Good luck, lad. Try not to get yourself killed." There was a small note of sadness there, one that sent a jolt of fear through Nevano. He could feel Nerevar gathering his energy for…something. He had no idea what the spirit that lived in his head planned on doing but he was helpless to stop him or aid him.

"Nerevar!"

A massive amount of power surged from his body, more power than he ever thought was in him, and shot along the beam of magic linking him and Helseth. The lich screeched in pain and flailed back, his arm bursting into flame, the dry skin cracking and blackening like parchment. The powerful spell holding Nevano was whisked away like a breath in the wind by the sheer power of Nerevar's attack.

Nevano dropped to the ground now that he was cut loose from the restricting magic. He stayed crumpled on the floor, shivering in shock. He needed to move, he had to move... but he was alone. It was empty inside his head. He couldn't sense Nerevar anywhere. He was alone, horribly and completely alone. No…no, Nerevar couldn't be gone. His power was just terribly weakened. There was no way Nerevar was gone. He had to move. Nerevar was gone. Move.

'Move.' He willed himself. 'Move!' His legs twitched uselessly in response, his muscles stubbornly locked. He looked up and saw the box sitting on its dais, taunting him. He gritted his teeth. He had to destroy that box. He had to move and he had to destroy that box. Nerevar told him to win. He was going to win.

Muscles screamed in protest as he forced himself up. It felt as they were stretched to snapping with every laborious step. Helseth was still screeching and fully distracted with his arm disintegrating and smoking to notice the small mer's slow progress towards the box. Nevano picked up Trueflame from where it had dropped to the ground and staggered the rest of the way to the box. The swords flames warmed him, giving him a boost in both strength and spirit he so desperately needed. He hated the thought of driving the blade into that box but it was the only thing strong enough to break through the barriers.

He struck down at the box but, as he suspected, the magical barrier caught the flaming blade before it got anywhere near the wood. However, Nevano felt it give a little under his weight. Trueflame's magic was stronger than the ancient barriers. He grunted and pushed harder. The flames wavered, repelled by the invisible force but Trueflame moved a few inches closer. Nevano gritted his teeth and wrapped both hands around the hilt. He could defeat the barrier if he kept at it. He could see it was wavering, like heat shimmering in the distance. He laid his entire weight on Trueflame. The razor sharp edge touched the box, the glyphs fleeing from Trueflame's light. Nevano's already shocked muscles trembled violently, threatening to give out. He had to hold on but he wasn't sure how much more he had left to give. Trueflame flared, the flames traveling up to surround his hands. The warmth from it was like a balm, chasing away the last of the coldness. For a moment, he didn't feel so alone. Hope bloomed in him, giving him the sense that he could actually do this. His muscles fired in response. The barrier gave out and Trueflame dropped like an executioner's axe, splintering the wooden box into a thousand pieces.

Inside the box, seemingly huddled among the splinters, was a swirling ball of light. Nevano had never seen anything like it before but he could only assume that it was a soul. Strange, he expected Helseth's soul to be a greasy ball of black tar, not this bright, cheery ball of starlight. Taking a deep breath, he reached down to pick up the swirling, bright ball. As soon as her fingers touched the warm surface, the world around him changed.

Helseth stormed along the lower hallways of the palace, screams and moans of terror echoing from the galleries above, accompanied by crashing and the clashing of weapons. Helseth's nostrils flared in disdain; he could smell the musty scent of the filthy lizard people even above the scent of blood and fear. They had finally breached the palace. He didn't have much time.

"Come, Kardryn." He ordered as he unlocked a rather unremarkable door with an ornate key.

"Shouldn't we..." The Altmer trailing behind him stammered, licking his lips nervously as he looked back the way they had come.

"You should listen to what I tell you." Helseth said scornfully. He had no time for such foolishness.

"Yes, Your Highness." Kardryn said, finally remembering his manners.

Helseth locked the door behind him. It was a fruitless gesture - the Argonians would eventually break down the door - but a locked door would buy him a few extra precious moments.

"Are you sure you want to do this, my king?" Kardryn unfortunately found his voice again, wringing his hands in agitation.

"If I wasn't I would have had you executed a long time ago." Helseth bared his teeth at the terrified mer. "Necromancy is illegal in Morrowind, remember?"

"But why here? Why now?" Kardryn burst out. "Why not escape and I can perform the same youth spells the Telvanni magisters use!"

"Those doddering old fools." Helseth growled, more to himself. "They are powerful, very powerful, but they don't use it. They hide in their mushroom towers and ignore the world around them. This will make me more powerful than any of them can imagine. When they realize my power they will bow to me like they should have long ago. Everyone will bow to me."

"My Lord?" Kardryn hesitated as the narrow passage finally opened into a chamber. It was small but cluttered full of books, alchemy tools and strange trinkets. Torn and crumpled parchment littered the floor and soul gems spilled out of a bowl and all over the packed table. Strange glowing symbols were haphazardly drawn all over the walls and the floor. At any other time Kardryn would have happily settled to look over the room, especially since Helseth would have managed to get his hands on ingredients, trinkets and tomes Kardryn himself would have only dreamed of seeing. Any other moment but this one. There were Argonians above him and Helseth beside him. He strongly suspected he had a better chance with the Argonians.

Helseth pulled out a small wooden chest. It was handsomely carved, made of imported wood and bound with gold and silver. Kardryn let out a small moan of fear when he saw the box. This was truly real. Horrifyingly, agonizingly, truly real. The box popped open and strange symbols seemed to slither out of the box though they stayed within the grain of the wood itself. The box was empty otherwise.

"Begin." Helseth ordered.

Kardryn had no choice but to obey. It was wrong, the whole process was wrong, but his protests had landed on deaf ears. Helseth would never listen. The king wanted immortality but he didn't want to take the correct steps to insure it. What Kardryn was about to do was breaking every rule but Helseth was one for cutting the proverbial knot instead of untying it. It made him a great king but a lazy being. He began the incantations, slicing his hand with a dagger and tracing the symbols in the floor with his blood. He could feel his magicka building with every word, a powerful thrumming within him.

It felt wrong.

He knew this spell, every necromancer worth his salt knew this spell, but as his intentions became clear, he could feel the very nature of the spell rebel against him. There was not what this spell was designed to do. In retaliation, it began to pull from his own soul, draining him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't stop now.

Magic changing a body was not a pretty thing, especially such a violent, drastic change such as this. Kardryn shut his eyes as the changes began but he couldn't block out the noises. Bones snapped and skin ripped. Kardryn dared a small peek and saw Helseth's body was horribly twisted midair, his head thrown back and his mouth open to scream but the muscles twisting on itself strangled any noise before it could escape. His skin was split, exposing the inner workings of his body as it all reorganized itself. He squeezed his eyes shut again. He felt sick.

As abruptly as it began, it was over. Helseth was dropped to the floor, where he curled up into a crouch. Kardryn, panting for breath, grasped at the wall behind him, both for support and to desperately be away from the thing on the floor. He had no idea what he had just created but the very air around him was suddenly constricting. This was not some simple body raising he had just done, this was not the usual twisting of the laws of nature; he had just taken the laws of nature and obliterated them entirely. There was more evil concentrated in this room than all the cursed places in Morrowind. Clanging from above brought him from his reverie. He remembered that they were still under attack. The Argonians had finally turned their attention to the locked door.

"My King!" Kardyrn gasped out. "They're here!"

"I know." Helseth's voice echoed strangely in the small chamber. He rose up from the floor, rising higher than he had before. Kardryn flinched.

"We need to escape." If he could escape this hell, he could possibly recover. At the very least he could escape to die somewhere more preferable. Anywhere other than here. Anywhere away from Helseth.

"Escape?" Helseth bared his teeth. Kardryn had to look away. "There was never any escape."

"But you said..."

"You were never going to live, Kardryn." Helseth said. "No one will know of this until I am ready. Surely you knew that?"

"I won't tell anyone!" the Altmer pleaded desperately.

"No. You will not."

Argonians burst into the chamber. Above the screams, both Argonian and mer, came maniacal, exalting laughter.

Nevano blinked as the vision faded, his mind struggling to keep up with what he had just seen. He had been Helseth, he had been the necromancer, Kardryn. He had seen the horrible ritual of turning Helseth into a lich, which left him feeling dirty and uneasy. He wanted to find a way to scrub the memory from his mind.

"You insolent n'wah!"

Nevano scooped up the soul and spun around to face Helseth, who, despite being spitting mad, was reluctant to attack him now that he was holding the soul. His arm had completely burned away from Nerevar's attack. Black sludge oozed from the ruined remains of the limb while the skin still curled and smoldered.

"You cheated." Nevano said flatly. "Like Vivec and the rest of the Tribunal, like Dagoth Ur, you cheated to gain your power."

"Power is power." Helseth spat. "Most of the world is too weak or stupid to get it and keep it. I succeeded where they failed."

Nevano didn't point out that Vivec, Sotha Sil, Almalexia and Dagoth Ur were all dead, two of them by his own hand. He didn't point out that most figures in history that stole power ended up dying rather horrific deaths. He didn't mention that Helseth himself was, technically, already dead from his pursuit in power. He was done talking. He wanted to end this. A rash thought entered his mind. Nerevar wouldn't have approved in the slightest but Nerevar was silent. There was nothing to stop him from rash, stupid ideas.

He shoved the ball of light back into the lich's chest.

Both of them screamed, Helseth from the sudden collapse of power within his body and Nevano as the soul burned his hand, sending lightning bolts of pain shooting down his arm. He couldn't release it. It held his hand fast as it slowly buried its way through Helseth's chest. The lich's skin cracked and flaked as the light crawled along his veins, the purity of the severed soul burning away the evil magic that permeated the twisted body. The light didn't distinguish between the two bodies connected to it. Only when the orb had sunk fully into Helseth's chest did it release his hand.

Nevano fell to his knees, clutching at his burning, smoking hand. Helseth continued to writhe as his own soul burned his body. He shriveled inside his own skin, shrinking down back to the size of an actual mer. What little of his leathery skin that hadn't burned grew soft again. The animalistic howling that had made the hair on the back of Nevano's neck stand up became tamer. When the transformation ended, there was an actual Dunmer curled on the floor, small, shriveled and pathetic. Helseth had returned, mostly, back to what he truly was: a weak, powerless, old man. He looked up at Nevano with bloodshot pleading eyes.

"I'll...live?"

"No." Nevano shakily got to his feet, picking up Hopesfire. "Gods no."

Hopesfire, the sword of mercy, sliced cleanly through the weak mer's neck. Blood, actual red blood that had too long been absent this whole trip, spouted from the severed stump as Helseth's head, still with the pleading expression on his face, rolled across the floor. Hopesfire's flame flared as it came into contact with blood. Nevano liked to think that the bright burn was purifying the evil body it had just come into contact with.

Nevano stood a moment, panting for air as he stared down at the ruined husk crumpled on the ground, his burned left arm hanging limply at his side. He grunted quietly and picked up his scattered weapons. Finally it was over. It was silent once again, the hum of magic energy draining from the room rapidly.

That silence bothered him. He couldn't feel Nerevar at all. The place he had once occupied was cold and quiet. The old fool wouldn't have condemned himself to oblivion just for this, would he? Nevano looked down at Bonebiter with its broken string. Something had broken inside him while Helseth had pinned him down. He had thought that it had been his soul being pulled free but…could it instead have been Nerevar breaking free? Nevano sighed. He didn't know what to think and he was too sore and tired to be able to go over it properly. Besides, he needed to face the undoubtedly irate young Dunmer outside to tell them that Helseth was dead. He was confident he could think up of a suitable outrageous explanation to fluster Veleth enough to sputter out his rage but he wasn't so sure about Nevusa. A small flutter of pride filled him at that thought.

A small tremor beneath his feet made him freeze, one foot suspended mid-air. The floor trembled again, this time accompanied by dust being shaken from the ceiling. He frowned when it subsided, a prickle of alarm running down his spine. It picked up again, with more intensity and this time it didn't end. He heard crashing and a quick glance out the window showed that the suspended boulders and debris from the courtyard were now falling back to earth. The entire royal palace was trembling now. Without Helseth's power to keep the place up, it was all finally collapsing.

Nevano ran; rotted wood and broken stone rained down all around him. He scrambled down the collapsed floor to the floor below, to the old reception room, ignoring the pain from his injuries. He knew there would be a door that led to the basement. From there he could escape into the sewers. It would be safer that way than taking his chance the way he came in, though not by much. There was still a very real chance that he would be buried alive by debris. The ground heaved and buckled, sending him tumbling head over heels across the room. It was only by a stroke of luck that he crashed against the door to the basement.

It was pitch dark in the basement, only the light from Trueflame and Hopesfire glowing at his hips allowed him to see where he was going. It wasn't much but it was just enough to keep him from falling flat on his face in the dark. He wracked his memory, trying to think where the sewer grate was. He had never actually used this particular sewer grate but knew it was there from listening to bored guards gossip to each other.

A loud crack made him look up. Plaster and dirt rained down on him as the ceiling cracked in half, allowing dim light from above to filter down. Only a few stubborn rafters kept the entire ceiling from caving in. However, he had just enough light to see the sewer entrance towards the back of the room.

He dove for the hatch just as the walls around him buckled and gave way.

XxXxXx

The clash of weapons echoed through the empty streets of Godsreach, shattering the empty stillness. Sparks flew when the bladed head of the Autarch's polearm struck Veleth's axe. Veleth grunted at the unexpected strength of the hit, shifting his weight forward ever so slightly to give him more leverage. He growled in pure frustration when the Andas didn't even shift an inch.

The beast in him roared furiously. It didn't like being at a disadvantage like this and Veleth had to reluctantly agree with it. He had gotten used to being the most skilled, had fallen into that pitfall of lassitude that came with being without a decent challenge every now and then. It gnawed at his pride that he couldn't seem to get the better of one old mer. It made him want the see the mer dead at his feet all the more.

Weapons clashed again and he threw his whole weight behind his strike, leaning into the crossed weapons and forcing the Autarch to push his weight forward to keep from being pushed backwards. As soon as Veleth felt the push of resistance, he abruptly released and spun sideways. The Autarch stumbled forward past him, completely off balance. The polearm, unwieldy when off balance, clattered to the ground. Before Veleth could drive in for a strike that would undoubtedly cause some damage, Andas dove into a roll and came up back on balance, drawing his scimitar and blocking the deadly strike.

Veleth growled in annoyance, feeling cheated of the blood he craved. Still he dove back in again, feeling far more on even ground now that the polearm was out of the fight. He fell into a more familiar rhythm, waiting to see if an opportunity would arise.

Arise it did. While the Autarch was highly skilled, he was no longer young. The unnatural grip on his mind demanded endless energy but the body it controlled was not dead. It was very much alive and had limited energy, made even more limited by his advanced age. Veleth was much younger. He might not be able to beat him outright, but he could outlast him.

The next hit he could feel a slight give, a barely there tremble that he could feel through his weapon as clear as if he had been shaken. Veleth let out a triumphant noise. He was going to win. He was going to soak the ground with the Autarch's blood. Finally a worthy kill, a worthy sacrifice. He drove Andas' sword arm wide and drove his shoulder into the older mer's chest, knocking him flat to the ground. His heart starting pounding with anticipation. This was it. This was the moment. He raised his weapon, ready to bring it down and end this once and for all.

Something collided into him, wrapping around his shoulders, throwing him off balance and holding back his arms to prevent him from striking. "You aren't supposed to kill him, you stupid fetcher!" A female voice roared in his ear.

He made to throw the infuriating interruption off of him, his prey was still on the ground, he still had time to deliver the killing blow, but sharp teeth clamped down on one long, sensitive ear. He roared in pain and outrage, jerking his head away. Now he was mad. Now she had gained his full attention. He moved to pry the interloper off his back - she would die for interrupting - but a fork thrust over his shoulder and was buried deep into the back of his hand. The sharp, sudden pain made his fingers loosen their grip on his weapon.

"Bastard!" The maddening creature on his back screaming, twisting the fork and making him wince. "Stop giving in to blood lust and use whatever is left of your stupid, little mind! Snap out of it!" She punctuated her words with a swift box to his bleeding ear.

Veleth's head swam. She packed a punch that one. Even the bloodthirsty monster had to admit that. Speaking of which, he felt the iron grip of his blood-thirst loosen. Cheated of its prey and humiliated by the intefereance, it slunk back into the recesses of his mind to sulk, leaving him to deal with the resulting mess on his own. He blinked and shook his head, feeling as though he had just woken up from a night of heavy drinking. Then everything came rushing back to him in horrible clarity.

"Nevusa!" He gasped, her name finally surfacing through his jumbled thoughts. "Get off!"

"You can't kill him! This whole thing will be wasted if you do!"

"I'm not going to kill him but he's going to kill both of us if you don't get off of me!" Veleth bellowed back at her, trying to wrench his arm out of her surprisingly strong grip as he watched Andas get to his feet.

"What? Oh...uh oh." Nevusa gulped, then yelped as Veleth dodged a strike from the scimitar, tightening her grip around his neck.

"This is difficult to do with you on my back!" Veleth growled, doing his best to counter with limited range of motion and extra weight throwing his balance off.

"Stop swinging around then!"

Veleth felt his left eye twitch in annoyance as he clumsily blocked another strike. "If I stop then he will slice us to ribbons. You jump off!"

"I've been tossed around by morons enough today!"

He growled, his annoyance building back up again. Infuriating woman. She took perfectly after her sire. The beast poked its head up hopefully but Veleth growled even louder, squashing it back into its hold. He didn't have time to deal with annoying mer and anger rage monsters while he was trying not to get killed by one of the most skilled Dunmer fighters in the world.

The next swipe he couldn't move back fast enough and the tip of the scimitar sliced his forehead open. Blood dripped down his face but he couldn't spare even a moment to swipe it out of his eyes. He could only grit his teeth against the sting of it.

"Let go! He's interested in me, not you." Veleth yelled in pure frustration. "You need to get out of here."

Nevusa finally loosened her hold around his neck and nimbly dropped by a low crumbled wall, drawing her weapons. "I can help you. I'm not leaving you alone!"

"No! Tell Garil. He needs to be ready if Andas kills me. We can't both be killed and leave them unaware." He hesitated as he remembered something. "And get that damned scroll!"

She wanted to argue, he could see if very clearly in the way she sucked in a breath but when the next block pushed him back almost fully on his haunches, she changed her mind. She turned and ran without another word. Finally, he thought. He didn't know how many more powerful hits like that he could take to convince her to go. Andas was strong. Almost too strong. Veleth had no doubt to Nevusa's skill but he didn't want her to be seriously hurt by a single blow. He glanced over to make sure she made it safely away.

The distraction cost him dearly. An armored fist, still gripping the scimitar, collided into his face. He felt his nose crack and blood splatter across his face. Everything went white as pain exploded in his head. He was starting to get real sick of being hit in the head like this.

His vision cleared just in time to see his weapon clatter to the ground behind Andas. He had no way to get to it without going through the possessed Autarch. "Stupid idea..." He grunted thickly to himself, but then again, this whole journey had been built on a stupid idea. Maybe he had been hit in the head one too many times today but he was seeing that the stupid ideas seemed to be working more than the sane ideas as of late. He was never going to tell Nevano about this.

He spit out a mouthful of blood and charged right at the Autarch. Just as the older mer swung his sword at him, Veleth dove to the ground in a roll to end up behind the Autarch. He scooped up his axe and pivoted on his foot as soon as it touched the ground, lashing out wildly. Andas jerked backwards. Finally, blood that wasn't his sprayed on his face. It was about damn time. To his astonishment, Andas shrugged off the nasty wound like it was nothing. He barely seemed to notice the blood running down his arm. Veleth snorted blood out of his nose. Apparently the possession made Andas disregard all pain and injuries. That hit should have rendered that arm useless. If that was the case, then he wouldn't be able to beat the mer into submission. He was just going to have to last until Nevano finished in the palace.

"Bull! I got the scroll!" Nevusa burst through the gates between Godsreach and the plaza, wildly waving the final scroll above her head. Veleth didn't realize how far they had migrated in their fight.

Veleth grunted, barely able to spare her any attention. Keeping the skilled Ordinator at bay was taking all his concentration, especially now that he had landed a blow. That seemed to have angered Andas, making him redouble his efforts to run Veleth through, just as strong in his injured arm as he was before. At least this would be over soon.

"Hold!" A Redoran soldier ran after her. "Churl, wait! The other Ordinators are starting to go back under."

Veleth felt his heart freeze, images of those empty, flat eyes flashing through his mind. All of them were concentrated in one spot. Even if they weren't armed, it could only end badly. He glanced over through the open gate and saw the Redoran soldiers shifting uneasily as the Ordinators began to act oddly.

"Veleth, get Andas over here!"

"There's no time." Veleth grunted, his weapon locked with Andas', trying very hard not to be pushed back on his heels. "Use the scroll before they get back under Helseth's control. We can't handle another major conflict and not lose someone."

"But Andas…"

"I'll hold him off the rest of the day if I have to." Veleth said with far more confidence than he felt. In reality he probably could have managed to lead the Autarch over to the group and attempt to free him but there was a nagging feeling in his gut that the scroll's feeble power wouldn't work on Andas. This man was the crown jewel. If power was going to be concentrated anywhere, it would be on Andas. Veleth didn't want the highly skilled and very deadly mer in the dead center of everyone. Nevusa nodded and ran off, much to his relief.

Autarch Andas had apparently decided he was done playing around. Veleth soon found himself using every bit of skill and every trick he knew just to keep the mer at bay. Nevano needed to hurry up. Despite his earlier bravado, there was no way he could keep this up all day, much less for the next hour.

The scimitar cut across his abdomen. The only thing stopping his guts from spilling all over the street was his faithful bonemold armor, which cracked under the strain. Despite not being gutted like a roast pig, the sheer power behind the blow made it still feel like he had been punched in the stomach, making him double over. He saw the punch coming but he wasn't in the position to be able to move quickly. He did however have enough time to think up of a nasty curse before he was struck full in the jaw. Pain lit up in his head like an explosion and the force of it sent shock waves up and down his spine, whiting out his vision and shocking his limbs into momentary paralysis. He crashed onto his back. In a flash, the Autarch was on him, the sword flipping around and coming at his throat. Veleth struggled clumsily, still trying to recover his breath. He managed to grab Andas' sword hand, gaining just enough control to stop the thrust that was aimed for his exposed throat. For a long moment they struggled but Veleth was at a distinct disadvantage on his back. Blood and sweat stung his eyes, partially blinding him, making him fight purely by feel. Then his wrist was flipped and he realized he was in trouble.

All Andas had to do was twitch his hand and the razor sharp sword would slice the vulnerable skin of his neck. Already he could see Andas' hand tighten on the hilt. Idly he wondered how long he could survive with a slit throat. He had been run through before; the trick was to keep breathing, though breathing would be quite a bit harder with a slit throat. The tendons in the older man's arm twitched. Veleth refused to close his eyes. If he was going to die like a gutted guar, he would do it being stubbornly defiant. The sword began its flight to his neck and Veleth braced himself.

The blow never came. Veleth grimaced as the edge touched his skin. He glanced up to see the older mer blinking at him as if he had never seen him before, his eyes clear and very, very confused.

"What in the hell?" Andas stared hard at him.

"Can we discuss this without a sword at my throat?" Veleth did not bother to hide his sigh of relief as the sword moved away. He released his hold on the Autarch and allowed himself to slump back, his remaining energy bleeding out of him along with the pounding rush of adrenaline, hardly able to believe it. It was over. Andas was no longer possessed. He was free. He was…Veleth's eyes snapped open and he swiped uselessly at the blood on his face. "He did it. That little fetcher did it. You're no longer possessed! If you're no longer possessed then he did it!"

"Boy, what are you talking about?"

"Nevano! He…" Veleth didn't have time to explain the very confused Autarch. He scrambled to his feet and spun around to face the palace. The green light was swirling madly but it was getting thinner. It twisted madly, fighting the invisible force pulling it away but inevitably was drawn up and away.

A cheer went up from Redoran and Ordinator alike as the green light slithered into the air and dissipated. Veleth smiled along with the rest of them but his gaze went to the gates, waiting for Nevano to walk back through, mentally urging him to hurry. Each passing second he did not, the ball of anxiety in his gut grew. Nevano could take care of himself, Veleth knew this of course, but he also was very well aware that Nevano attracted trouble. The longer he took to emerge, the greater the trouble he likely was in grew.

Veleth took a step towards the palace, willing his exhausted body forward, determined to go find the small mer and drag him out himself. His earlier adrenaline rush was fading, leaving him feeling every cut, bump and bruise. His broken nose and cracked jaw throbbed in tandem with his heartbeat, adding to his growing headache. That had easily been one of the most grueling fights in his life and his battered body was screaming at him to just hit the ground.

"Bull, what are you doing?" Nevusa appeared at his side. She had the same uncanny ability to appear and disappear as her father did. Interesting to see how she inherited that trait without ever having met him before now. "You are bleeding all over the place, by the gods look at your nose! You need to sit."

"He hasn't come out yet." Veleth said, shaking his head. Nevusa nodded but she didn't move out of his way.

"Give him a moment. He'll show up." Nevusa tugged at his arm. Veleth ignored her and took another step forward, dragging the smaller woman along with him. She growled and dug her heels in. "What is wrong with you boys that you have to go diving into places you damn well shouldn't, you stubborn son of a guar? I didn't think I punched you in the head hard enough to make you stupid. Just what do you plan on doing when you can barely see straight?"

That made him stop and glance over at her. He opened his mouth to answer her but was rudely interrupted when the ground shuddered beneath their feet. He struggled a little keep his balance, Nevusa grabbing his arm to keep them both from toppling over completely. Then, as quickly as it had come, the shaking stopped. Veleth looked back up at the equally confused woman next to him. "What in Azura's name…?"

"This area isn't known for earthquakes." She said slowly. "Maybe Red Mountain is erupting again?"

"There was no more smoke than usual when we went to see that witch." Veleth reminded her.

"Then I don't -" Nevusa cut herself off with a yelp as the ground shook again, far angrier this time.

A loud crack made them both look up. The spires of the palace began to rock and pieces of the dilapidated towers began to fall. Massive cracks appeared in the walls as they shifted and started to crumble. Fissures traced themselves in the ground. They were, Veleth realized, coming from the palace. The source of the earthquake was the palace itself. Where Tamriel's most infuriating dark elf was still running around. He didn't want to have to dig Nevano out. He tried to take another step but there was another massive crack and the foundation of the palace split in half. It held a moment, and then the walls crumbled.

"Bull!" Nevusa slammed into his side, knocking him off his feet just as the palace collapsed in on itself. The last thing he saw before the rush of dust and debris rolled over them was Nevusa throwing herself on top him.

XxXxXx

A/N: It has been a very long few months. It's been…five months? Four months? Five entirely too long months. Last semester was the hardest I have ever worked in my entire educational career and I think that professor took a rather sadistic delight in seeing the burned out looks on her students' faces. After that semester was over, I did nothing but sleep for a month. I got no writing done. Once I managed to (mostly) shake off the burnout, I tried to write again...only to find that I could not get a damn thing out. So here we are, five months, insanely difficult classes, stolen fics (yes, that happened. So lovely.), writer's block and a few binge sessions of Hulu later, we have a new chapter! The good news is that because I had such intense writer's block for this chapter, I moved on and wrote ahead. The next few chapters are half finished now. I cannot promise there won't be such a drastic wait again because I really want to graduate sometime within the next decade but I refuse to give up.

Big shout out to AEsob and Ajestice for the encouragement, ideas, beta-reading and for laughing at me when the caffeine kicked in a little too hard.

Also a shoutout to those who still reviewed/favorited/followed during the slump. Thank you very much! I was very touched and those little alerts I got motivated me to work hard to get this bugger out. Alright, one last chapter to Kings. Hang in there y'all!