Part 10 - The Greatest Sin
Chapter 166 - Swords and Shadows
Hirrov grumbled as he was woken up by a quiet knock at the door. He picked himself up out his bed and opened it. When he saw the state Max was in, he frowned.
"What happened to your eye?" He asked in Dovahzul.
"Let's just say nobody's too happy about the prospect of a coloured Dovah King. I need some info, Hirrov, and you said I could consider you a friend."
"Are you wanted?"
"They were going to take my eyes and tongue out and put me into slavery after I survived an encounter with the Breaker, so I'd say yeah."
"Unlike many from the Tuta Empire, I do not agree with slavery. Come in; you and your companion."
Hirrov stepped to the side letting the God and his father in. When they were inside, he checked both ways down the corridor and closed the door.
"What information do you need, Maximilian?"
"Just call me Max. Also, this is my dad: Miles."
Hirrov and Miles shook hands.
"What can I do for you, Max?"
"How much do you know about the 'Church of Dei Volente'? I heard that name muttered, and I'm guessing they've got a lot of power."
"It is…how do you say it…exactly what it says on the box. The Church of Dei Volente are the order who have the final say in the beliefs and teachings of Dei Volente and the other High Elder Gods. Every kingdom and empire in the world answers to them."
"Right…how would you react if I said everything you've been taught about the High Elder Gods is a lie? Or maybe not everything…I'm not sure myself."
"I would accept that you have a different belief to me, although I do not see someone supposedly preaching peace and love allowing slavery."
"Well everything you've been taught about the High Elder Gods is a lie. You remember after our fight you asked me what sort of magic I used?"
"It was extremely powerful."
"It's not magic. My birth name might be Maximilian Morales, but my God-given name is Dei Volente. I'm not the king of the High Elder Gods; that's Hermaeus Mora. I didn't create this world; I was thrown into it a couple of weeks ago and was put in prison for smashing up some guy's boat."
Hirrov looked a little unsure, but his face bore an expression of realisation as well.
"It links many dots, but how can I be certain you are Dei Volente?"
"Ask me to do something and I'll do it."
"Relight the candles in this room."
Max snapped his fingers and they came to life, their flames casting a warm glow around the room.
"Convinced?"
"Perhaps, but there are spells allowing for that, albeit with a little more effort than a snap. My second test: I need to pack my belongings into my sack; do it for me."
Max clicked his fingers again and the sack appeared on the table, filled with all of Hirrov's things. Hirrov stared at it, turned back to Max and collapsed to his knees.
"Forgive me, my God. I did not recognise you."
"That was the idea. Quit kneeling to me; I need your help now you know the truth."
He picked himself up. Max flicked his wrist and pulled the chairs out from the table. He sat in one and Hirrov in the other.
"Do I get a chair?" Miles asked in English, not entirely sure what was happening.
"Take the bed." Max replied bluntly.
Miles sat down and the God turned back to Hirrov who had his head bowed.
"I need to prove to people I'm not just another Sunor."
"Perhaps stealing your sword back? If it is your sword, of course."
"I woke up and it was gone, so I'm guessing Hermaeus or one of the other HEGs got a real kick out of hiding it. It's in the palace, probably with the dovahhe."
"Are the dov truly your companions?"
"Yes. A long time ago. That bit the Church got right."
"Perhaps I can be of assistance to your effort to steal it? Now that you are no longer in the Games, it is likely I will face the Dovah King for his throne. Perhaps I can become King? It would allow you to correct the ways of the Church without so much weight on your shoulders."
"It sounds like a good idea, but only if they decide you're to face the King for his throne. And you have to win."
"The Dovah King does not use the Thu'um; he will bow to me, and in turn to you."
"Thanks, Hirrov. I'll keep an eye on the match and…give my blessing or something."
Hirrov chuckled.
"Anything for my God."
Miles and Max returned to the warehouse, managing to steal some real bandages from the medical stores.
"I thought you could just heal that." Miles commented as Max wound one round his head.
"I may be able to do basically anything, but creating stuff out of thin air is slow. I have to build it atom by atom."
"Then how did Death build Bastria and Noladis so quickly?"
"The very concept of time didn't exist until they did, so it took him an eternity and no time at all."
"Makes sense. So what do we do now?"
"We wait to see if Hirrov fights the Dovah King, then if he does he'll let us in the palace and we can take my sword back and show these idiots their beloved God isn't how they envisioned."
"It's kinda like Jesus, if you think about it. Everyone thinks he was white but he was from somewhere round Israel, so he wouldn't be."
"It really is. Except Jesus was one of Death's kids and an asshole."
"You'll probably go to Hell for that."
"At least it'll be warm."
There was a pause for a few minutes, then Miles asked:
"When are you gonna wake the others up?"
"I planned to wake all of you up when technology reached twenty-first century levels but…that didn't work out for you so have fun dying having not seen Mum's face for three googolplex years."
Miles looked upset by this, but said nothing about it. Instead he moved on with:
"So why'd it take so long for a new world to appear?"
"No clue, but my theory is the Plates finally gave up trying to fix what they couldn't fix and decided to start over again."
"Why take so long? I mean…how long did you say again?"
"Three googolplex years. Someone said the Scarlet King's trillion would look pathetic; it might have been me. But they were right."
"Yeah. But why so long?"
"No idea. Maybe they planned to do it for all time and one of the HEGs gave them a kick?"
"Probably. They're being very fiddly with this world."
"Trust them to make my entire reality a big joke."
"Who said it was about you?"
"I'm the fifth most powerful being in the…narrative. Most things have something to do with me."
"'Power-giddy'…Null really was right about you."
Max narrowed his good eye.
"I'll send you somewhere better than a soul stone if you ever say Null was right."
"What? You can't handle someone telling you the truth?"
"Now I remember why I hate you."
Hirrov glanced up as he entered the arena. He raised his sword to the sky as some of the crowd booed, but most cheered. The announcer was telling everyone Max had died from his injuries. What a shock they'd get when Dei Volente showed himself. After a short introduction, the Dovah King entered the arena with strong armour and a glisteningly sharp sword. The horn blew and the fight began. The opening move was very obvious with the King's lack of powers.
"Fus! Ro! Dah!" Hirrov bellowed.
The blue shockwave thundered towards the King who's eyes widened in horror. However, as it struck him, something happened even Hirrov had not expected: the Dovah King clutched his heart and was suddenly vaporised, turning into a pile of ash on the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers, but in Hirrov's head he could hear a voice that spoke slowly and sounded as of the person was stuck yawning:
"You have started my plan, my champion. From now, the blood of Dei Volente will be on your hands."
Hirrov had no chance to tell Max what he'd heard, but it was likely the God knew something was amiss. Instead, the Champion was taken to a convoy of horses. The crowds parted before their victor. In their midst were two hooded figures who Hirrov had a strong feeling were Max and Miles. The horses stopped at the foot of the mountain at the centre of Dov Island. At its peak was the palace of the Dovah King as well as the home of the dov themselves. A priest dismounted from the front of the group and raised his hands to the sky.
"Oh great Dei Volente! You have chosen your Champion, and we accept him as our King to lead us in your ways! Bless his reign and protect him from evil, just as you have protected us all for all time!"
There were cries of 'amen' along the length of the convoy, but Hirrov only managed to whisper it. He was scared about the voice in his head, and about what his Unrelenting Force shout had done. It had, until now, only ever produced a shockwave that had never disintegrated someone. Something moved in the trees up ahead and he felt a rush of adrenaline. What was it? Was it an assassin? A messenger from the voice? A bird flew out the tree and circled overhead before flying away, singing happily. The convoy started moving again, climbing the twisting path to the top of the mountain.
Even on horseback, the journey took a few hours. Adding a break during the hottest part of the day, it was coming up to sunset by the time they reached the palace. However, instead of dismounting and heading inside as Hirrov had hoped, the convoy continued up a little further to a plateau at the very summit. A cave loomed up; the only thing taller. This was where the dov stayed. The priest helped Hirrov dismount, then everyone kneeled before the dragons.
"Oh great dov, companions of Dei Volente, we bring you a new Champion in the hope you will bless his reign!" The priest cried.
There was a deep grumble, then shapes began to move in the dark.
"Who is this Champion you bring us this year?" Said a deep voice.
"I am Hirrov Sartuz, Champion of the Dovah Games and vanquisher of the former Dovah King!" Hirrov replied.
The priest had told him what to say and when on the way up. Now the dragons emerged into the twilight. One was bronze and only had one wing, another was a creamy-brown colour and its wings looked beaten up, two more were a faded green and the last was white. The bronze dragon eyed Hirrov as if it were staring into his soul.
"You are different than most other Champions brought to us. Come, Hirrov Sartuz. We would speak with you alone."
The priest looked a little confused, but beckoned for the guards and others to follow. They walked a distance away. The creamy-brown dragon snorted.
"Go further that you might not hear our words. Descend to the palace and we will return your Champion to you."
They mounted their horses and road away at a fair trot leaving Hirrov alone with the five dovahhe. He looked at them in turn, then the bronze one said:
"I am Odahviing, right-hand of Dei Volente."
The creamy-brown dragon spoke as well:
"I am Paarthurnax, teacher of the Way of the Voice. Your Thu'um is strong, but there is another strength to you. Is there something you wish to say?"
Hirrov felt a little intimidated, so he only managed a croak. Odahviing looked mildly amused.
"He fears us. We do not bite unless Dei Volente commands it, or so your Church teaches."
For the sake of his honour, Hirrov took a deep breath and said:
"Dei Volente has returned. I fought him in the arena yesterday and he bested me but he was arrested for some reason, most likely because the Church do not want a Sunor Dovah King."
The dovahhe looked a little unsure.
"Hmm? You are sure?" Asked Odahviing.
"He escaped the Breaker which nobody has done before. He came to me asking for help reclaiming Furore Mortale."
"How do we know he speaks the truth?" Asked one of the green dragons.
Paarthurnax hummed.
"Tell us, Hirrov Sartuz: if Dei Volente spoke to you as friend, he would have spoken his mortal name. Tell us what he calls himself and we will know you speak the truth."
"He call himself Maximilian. I think Maximilian Morales."
The dragons looked between each other, then back at Hirrov.
"Then it is true: Dei Volente has returned and your Church has failed to see it. We had sensed a powerful presence for a few days." Paarthurnax concluded.
"There's something else I do not know if you can help me with."
"Speak." Odahviing instructed.
"My Thu'um disintegrated the previous Dovah King in the arena. Afterwards, I heard a voice tell me Dei Volente's blood would be on my hands."
"Which Shout did you use?" Asked the white dragon.
"Unrelenting Force. Fus, ro, dah."
"An unknown adversary moves in the shadows to the demise of Dei Volente. Tell your mortal Church you have our blessing, Hirrov Sartuz, Dovah King. But bring Dei Volente to us that we might speak with him." Odahviing instructed.
"It will be difficult, but I will do all I can. Thank you, dovahhe."
After a tedious ceremony lasting well into the night, Hirrov's first move was to sneak out. He knew the Church and the guards would protest him going out alone. His horse was still awake, fortunately, but the saddle was removed. Oh well; he would be OK. He hoped Miles and Max would have come up the mountain some way to find him so he could get up and down before daylight returned. He put his hood up and rode out.
Max and Miles had sat down on a rock, taking a short break. They may have been a spider person and a God, but they were used to swinging from webs or flying not climbing mountains. Suddenly, they heard the sound of a horse's hooves on the uneven cobbles. They leapt behind the rock, watching to see who it was. Max recognised Hirrov and jumped up.
"Hirrov!"
The horse came to a halt, snorting angrily at the abrupt command. Hirrov dismounted and patted it to calm it down before turning to the spider and his son. He knelt down and bowed his head to Max.
"The dov wish to speak with you, Maximilian."
"And my sword?"
"Still in the throne room, hanging above the throne. It will be difficult for you to retrieve it."
"I'll figure something out."
"You didn't bring any food, did you?" Miles asked in English; Max translated it.
"I did not. It was difficult to escape the palace undetected."
"Oh well." Miles replied when Max translated it back.
Hirrov stood up slowly and made eye contact with Max. The God frowned, then willingly put the newly crowned Dovah King in a vision.
"There is something else?" Dei Volente asked.
"Yes. My Shout in the arena: it was…" Hirrov replied, his mind and soul consumed by fear at what he was experiencing.
"Too powerful. I saw it."
"There was a voice as well, my God."
"What sort of a voice?"
"Male, perhaps. It sounded tired as though it always yawned."
"Did you see anything?"
"Nothing. Only the arena, the crowd, and the pile of ash that had become of the Dovah King."
There was silence in the void of the vision. After it had gone on for a little too long for the King's liking, he called out into the nothingness:
"Dei Volente?"
"I am here, Hirrov."
"Will you let me free?"
"Yes. Innumerable pardons."
Hirrov staggered a little as he was released. Max had his eyes closed and was surrounded by a dull aura of energy. Miles could tell Hirrov wanted to say something to him, but he didn't speak Dovahzul or any other language the Dovah King spoke. Max's eyes opened, glowing the same light greyish-blue he'd inherited from his mother. Miles felt a little sad, wondering whether he should ask Max to wake Gwen. Would she prefer to spend now with him or would she want the comforts modern life provided? Max sensed his thoughts and rolled his eyes.
"What? Don't say you haven't wanted to wake Grace up." The spider said angrily in Spanish.
"Why Spanish? There're enough languages for you to choose from." Max replied in Portuguese.
Miles managed to figure out some of it since the two languages were similar.
"Because why not? There's nobody else to speak it with." He replied, again in Spanish.
"Exactly. Learn Dovahzul. Maybe if you study it enough you can fight a dragon." Max finished in Wakandan.
Miles gave him a blank look. Hirrov looked completely confused. Max turned to him, the glow in his eyes fading.
"Let's go and pay our winged friends a visit."
"There will not be enough time before sunrise."
"As my father, here, would say: time is relative. And when I'm involved, time is no time at all."
With a snap of his fingers, Max made time stand still. He, Miles, Hirrov and the horse were all that weren't affected.
"Don't worry. You can have a nice lie in too."
"Stopping time is…it is not something written about you."
"Of course not. I've never been to this world. And it's technically not stopping time; just dragging it out into as long as I need it to be. I can make every day that passes for us be only a second for other people."
"You truly are a High Elder God, Dei Volente."
"Sure. Glad you noticed unlike someone."
He shot Miles a look who knew little more than he'd been mildly insulted as they set off back up the mountain.
Time was still frozen as they reached the palace.
"Wow. This puts the penthouse to shame." Miles commented.
"Let's grab Furore Mortale. Since someone wants my blood, a sword would be nice." Max said this twice, first in Dovahzul then in English.
The throne room of the palace was decorated beautifully with all kinds of precious materials. However, perhaps the most impressive part of it was the stained glass window over the door depicting a crowned man bowing to a dragon which stood with its wings spread wide. Miles took in the other sights including five statues of dragons, one of which was missing a wing. On the other side were five more statues, each depicting one of the High Elder Gods: an old man, a boar, a snake, a mass of tentacles and eyes and finally Dei Volente in his spider suit.
"Wow Max. They've really done you justice." Miles joked.
"Whatever. I don't see a statue of you here."
"Well duh. I'm not some angry hybrid of a squid and a…I dunno. What has loads of eyes?"
"A spider. You have half of it covered."
Max snapped his fingers and the statue of tentacles and eyes turned into one of Miles with thousands of eyes all over him and four spider legs poking out his back.
"Very funny. I doubt the priests will be happy to wake up to find that."
"How do you know? I might change their memories so they'd think it's always been that."
Hirrov had been watching, but now interrupted in Dovahzul:
"Maximilian: if Hermaeus Mora is your king then perhaps it is wise not to desecrate his image?"
Max sighed and turned it back to the mass of eyes and tentacles which was Hermaeus Mora. He patted one of the stone tentacles.
"Make sure to keep my study space open in Apocrypha, Squidward." He said in Daedric.
In response, the candles in the room went dark for a moment before going bright again to reveal a strange creature. It had a few short tentacles on its back and hovered above the ground. Max chuckled and snapped it back to Oblivion.
"And keep your Seekers to yourself."
He turned his attention back to the throne and the sword hanging above it. To Miles and Hirrov, it looked like a normal sword for someone of some nobility. However, to Max it resonated and called to him. He climbed on top of the throne, sticking one of his hands to the wall to steady himself. With his right hand, he stretched up and grasped the hilt. Something must have happened as time suddenly resumed. Max climbed down slowly with Furore Mortale in his hand.
"You have no idea how good it feels to hold your own weapon again."
"My God, the dov await us. Time continues, and I must be here at daybreak." Hirrov whispered, paranoid about someone hearing.
Miles was surprised there were no guards, but he supposed the mountain's slope was protection enough.
"Right. You can go to bed, Hirrov. Thank you for everything you've done over the last couple of days." Max reverted to English. "Come on, Dad. Let's go and see which dovah wants to chomp your head off most."
"It has been an honour to serve you, Dei Volente." Said Hirrov in Dovahzul.
"I really hope none of the dragons bite my head off." Said Miles in English.
Odahviing and the other dragons were sleeping in their cave at the very peak of the mountain. One of them, the white dragon, grumbled and woke up. It nudged the others with its tail.
"Dei Volente bo. [Dei Volente comes.]"
The others were awake immediately and clambered to their feet to greet their long lost master. Odahviing was last out the cave because of his missing wing, and in turn missing claw. The figures were approaching. One stayed back but the other came right up to them and grinned.
"I've gotta admit I'm glad to see you guys are OK. Or not OK OK in Odahviing's case, but you know what I mean." Said Max in English.
"Drem yol lok, Dei Volente. Greetings." Said Paarthurnax.
The others echoed the greeting except Odahviing who was straight to business.
"Hirrov Sartuz, the crowned Dovah King, brought a warning to us. He warned of a voice in his mind thirsting for your blood."
"He told me. Any ideas?"
"He described the voice of Hermaeus Mora to us." Replied one of the green dragons.
"Ahh. I hadn't thought of that."
"What reason would Hermaus Mora want your blood?" Asked Paarthurnax.
"No idea. Maybe I know something he doesn't?"
"Hermaeus Mora sees all and knows all. There is nothing you can know that he does not." Reasoned the other green dragon.
Silence fell except for the howl of the wind. Miles stepped forward slowly.
"If I could say something…maybe it's to do with the soul gems?"
Max looked down at the bracers still on his arms.
"What would he want them for?" Max replied.
"I dunno. Just an idea. Maybe he doesn't know how you made them?"
"I literally learnt the spell from a book in Apocrypha; Mora's realm in Oblivion."
"What reason does a High Elder God have to pose as a Daedra?" Mused the white dragon.
"I bet there's a few perks to messing with mortals. Maybe you get your own cult?" Miles suggested.
"I've got my own cult and don't mess with mortals to do it." Max replied.
"Perhaps it is that which Hermaeus Mora desires?" Suggested Paarthurnax.
"We might never know."
Crossovers in this Chapter
- Skyrim, Skyrim and some more Skyrim