Hours passed, but for Dragonborn, they felt like minutes, fleeting moments in time as he was entirely consumed by the book. Rialyn almost forgot how good it feels to peer into years of history and knowledge during all these adventures and battles, all packed in a single book.
He knew of the Tribunal, the saints and gods of Morrowind ruling over them for thousands of years, all of them disappeared just under two hundred years before Rialyn's birth, and still, it remains a mystery. Rialyn read on about those events as closely as they could be recalled by a historian.
Tribunal's disappearance was preceded by the plague in Morrowind caused by Dagoth Ur, the leader of the sixth house deep within the crater of the red mountain; the gods of Tribunal could not stop him, but someone else did. The Nerevarine, an ancient Dunmer hero, was sent as a prisoner by the emperor to Vvardenfell. He was recognized through hard work and dedication as the reincarnation of the saint Nerevar by great houses and ashlander tribes, even Vivec himself.
Rialyn couldn't help but see similarities in them. Nerevarine's story was rather inspirational. Two downtrodden dunmer prisoners, given another chance at their life by pure luck and utilizing it to the fullest, become heroes of an entire province. But there was one significant difference between them that made Rialyn slightly envious.
The Nerevarine was a hero of his own people and his ancestral land. At the same time, the Dragonborn had to deal with a completely alien culture of those who had been the enemies of dark elves generations ago. Despite feeling some connection to Nord culture due to his upbringing...It did not feel the same.
And so, he read on, desiring to learn everything about the hero and his path. It was a period of brief hope for Morrowind, of victory and pride. Rialyn wanted to see it for himself, but he knew that everything that came after brought nothing but pain and despair for the dark elves. Shortly after the defeat of Dagoth Ur, Sotha Sil and Almalexia disappeared, followed by Vivec in a few years. No one seemed to know what happened to them, and yet dunmer rejected the possibility of them being killed. What other explanation could there be? Abandoning their people? Suffering the same fate as Dwemer? There was no answer to these questions, and likely there will never be.
But the detail that puzzled Rialyn the most was the sudden diss appearance of Nerevarine. After defeating Dagoth Ur, he visited Mournhold and saved queen Barenziah from assassination by the Dark Brotherhood, and that was it. No further mentions, no references, almost like he was someone unimportant. He vanished from history the same way Tribunal did, and everyone knew the tragedies that followed.
Rialyn soon closed the book before finishing it; the questions it gave outweighed the answers it provided. It did not have much value, especially not when there was someone in the castle who remembered these days. Rialyn took the book and set out to find Garan Marethi, it took some time, but eventually, he encountered the old vampire tending to the cathedral.
The Dragonborn remembered this place as the one he and Serana battled Harkon. Out of all rooms in the castle, this would be the most unnerving to strangers. You could feel the evil presence here, right at the blood altar; was it the echo of Molag Bal himself? The lord of enslavement followed Rialyn in his journey through the gift of vampirism and the accursed mace that became the Dragonborn's primary weapon.
"Welcome back. I assume you came here for some quiet?"-Garan asked as he noticed Rialyn sitting on a bench near him.
"I had my quiet time already; I was looking for you."
"Do you want anything, my lord? If that's about the castle's restoration, I can assure you, all goes as planned."
"No need to call me lord, and no, it's about this."-Rialyn showed Garan the book. The vampire was visibly surprised.
"I still forget you don't like the formalities. Well, it seems you found my book."-He said as he sat beside Rialyn.
"I didn't know it was yours, just that it was new, but I had my guess."
"Reading in between our hunt is always a fitting break for a vampire; I appreciate literacy, although this book hardly holds any relevance anymore."
"I found it intriguing, although it's quite lacking in terms of the history of the period."
"These were mysterious times, no one knows the truth, and if anyone does, they certainly hide it very well."
"I'd like to know more."-Rialyn asked.
"Do you expect me to know about Nerevarine and Tribunal any more than the author of this book?"-He seemed somewhat confused about what the Dragonborn wanted.
"I remember you mentioning that you were 400 years old and a former member of House Dres in Morrowind. Tell me about Morrowind about how it was, the house, the land, the people."
"It is quite disarming to see this question come from a du…Wait, I think I understand now. You are young, are you not?"
"Twenty-four years of age, if you are wondering."
"And you've never been to Morrowind?"
"Except for my trip to Solstheim, never."
It felt strange to confess to this, but it was true. His homeland felt much more distant and alien than Skyrim or Cyrodiil.
"I was born in Cheydinhal; my parents left me when I was still very young; they're probably dead now. I was raised by a Blacksmith in Bruma for most of my life. I ended up in Skyrim about a year ago…Crossing the border."
"I take it there aren't many of our kind in Bruma."
"Well, a couple…But you get the idea."
"You accomplished much for being at such a young. Even I can admire it. A Dragonborn and a vampire lord, all of Skyrim talk about you."
"Sometimes I wish I wasn't here, that I am to be in my homeland helping my people…And you were there, so tell me, is it an unwelcome place others paint it out to be?"
Garan seemed to think to himself, remembering his time in Morrowind.
"It was a long time ago when there was still relative stability. I traveled across most of the mainland for the purposes of negotiations and delegations. Yes, it was then when I fulfilled my role as a Dres councilor."
"And what about the great houses? Could they sustain unity?"
"Barely, dealing with this was a nightmare, even within my own house. Backstabbing, power plays, intrigues."
"Did the Empire intervene?"
"Rarely, if at all. Dunmer doesn't like outsiders taking part in their politics, and besides, nobody in their right mind would want to do so anyway. I had my share of blood on my hand before ever becoming a vampire."
"It seems to me dunmer and nords are somewhat similar in this regard."
"Don't compare ourselves to these brutes. We once had nobility and pride; we were survivors…But it was only a common enemy that could keep us united, that's true."
"Not just the enemy; the dark elves had an idol once."
"What do you mean?"
"I read about Nerevarine and his battle with Dagoth Ur."
"Ah, him…"
"You've been around at his time, we're you not?"
"No, I left Morrowind shortly before the plague, setting myself on a journey that eventually would bring me to Harkon. Considering everything that happened in Morrowind after, I have no regrets."
"Still, I imagine you heard about him."
"Yes, but much later, around the time of the Oblivion crisis. Didn't really believe this story, an everyman rising up and becoming another saint, saving Morrowind from the blight and all that, too heroic and romanticized."-Garan spoke with distaste.
"The same way nords idolize their heroes."
"Yes, I suppose it's only natural. Nerevarine left a mark on Morrowind's history, even if he was there only for a short time."
"Does anyone know what happened?"-Rialyn realized he should have asked Neloth that question while he had the chance, but it was too late.
"I remember some said that he died on Solstheim or transcended mortal life and became a god in his own right, cresting his own dimension. The most common version sees him journeying off Tamriel to Akavir and never returning."
"Seems strange that he would just leave his people in the hour of need."
"It does, but I suppose we will never know. Perhaps he saw a threat there, or he was just tired of his life as a hero. No one even knows who started that rumor, but it quickly spread across Tamriel."
"He must have had a reason to leave…Perhaps the truth lies close than we think."
"And what are you intend, Rialyn?"
"Well, I had a few ideas…Have you returned to Morrowind ever since leaving?"
"Once, after the argonian invasion, just to see how it changes, what it was now…I did not stay for long."
"Is the war still ongoing?"
"They were at a stalemate when I came back, but too much damage has been done. The south of Morrowind was decimated and overtaken by these barbarians, cities, and towns destroyed, where once stood the powerful houses now only the ruins lied, my former house took one of the greatest hits…Suppose it was to be expected after all the years of slavery."
"As far as I know, dunmer fought back."
"They stalled the invasion but failed to reclaim their lands and their influence, stuck between the lost south and north that was harmed by the eruptions. Argonians will continue their battle someday, and it will likely end in their favor. Dunmer lost hope; the fall of Mournhold was a symbolic defeat. I decided to let go and forget any attachment I had to my nation…They are a lost cause; no one but another Nerevarine can help them."
It was at this moment that Rialyn knew what to do. All the stories he heard about Morrowind since his birth led him to this, and all the trials he went through made him strong enough to do it. Now he was an elf without heritage, culture, or purpose in life, but what greater purpose can there be than returning to your own roots and giving despairing people what they need most?
"I see…Thank you, Garan."
"You're plotting something, Rialyn. I told much to you, so don't try to hide your intentions."
"They are no secret; I intend to sail to Morrowind."
The vampire was surprised.
"Truly? You'll find nothing here but a withering nation that cannot be saved. Is this what you want?"
"Many would consider the world eater unbeatable. I proved them wrong."
"Planning to take on the entire argonian invasion? Or better yet, the nature itself?"
"I don't know yet; before any plans for the future, I will see Morrowind for myself."
"You're being foolish."
"You said they needed another Nerevarine; I can be one. Nothing differs from what I do here, except I will help my own people; this is enough for me."
"Didn't know you could be so…Idealistic."
"There is nothing left for me in Skyrim except many assassins about to come my way, so why not try?"
"No stopping you, I suppose."
"Indeed."
"Well…Only time will tell."
…
The next few days were spent in preparation; there was little time to waste. Rialyn announced his decision to everyone and left Serana in charge of this castle. He grew attached to her and the place itself after their adventures, but there always was a time to let go of it. The other vampires didn't seem to mind; after losing Harkon, they were at a crossroads, and their legacy was in their hands, Rialyn might have helped for a while, but he felt another calling.
And so, the hour of another journey came. The Dragonborn took his armor, gold, the accursed mace, and Auriel's bow, which should be enough to fight whatever awaited him. Perhaps he will return one day and tell others of his travels, but something said to him that even if it happens, it won't be soon. The vampire lord stood in the castle courtyard as the sun descended, signaling the nightfall, the best time for him to travel.
Before he left, he heard steps from behind; Serana stood beside him, looking at Rialyn with a glimpse of sadness; it was not easy to say goodbye.
"Leaving already?"
"I have to go before this castle gets attacked by someone coming for my head; besides, there is much I need to do. About leading the clan…Are you up to the task? I believe in you, but if you don't want it…."
"No, I am to it. Truth be told, I never expected you to stay for long. You were just not that kind of person. I'll carry on my family's legacy; there is still much taint to get off it. Garan will be here to help with the governing. What about you? Are there any ships going to Morrowind off here?"
"Not that I know of. I'll need to create an expedition myself."
"You'll need a ship…And a crew."
"And I know exactly where I should start looking for both."
Serana smiled, hearing the familiar confidence in Rialyn's voice, she was one of the most loyal companions and one of the few friends he made in Skyrim, and she would be a great ruler.
"Thank you, Serana, for everything. Even though the circumstances of our meeting were not exactly fortunate…."
"It's been a pleasure, nonetheless."
They shook their hands and gave each other a light hug; it will be remembered warmly, whatever comes next. Then, they looked at each other one last time; there was no point taking too prolonging the moment. And so, the Dragonborn set out on yet another journey. This promise will be the one fulfilled.
