Okay, things are looking back up despite everything, and do I mean everything. Gratitude going towards xTRESTWHOx and NaanContributor for sifting through it all.
Chapter 63: Hear Your Absolution
12th of Evening Star
Blake was in the midst of packing her things when she heard footsteps coming up from behind her. She turned to see her golden-haired teammate getting ready to pounce, Yang herself freezing in place upon being spotted. The two stared at each other for a moment before Yang jubilantly leaped at the Faunus and wrapped her into a tight hug. Blake huffed at the soft impact, then hugged her back as a smile crept onto her face.
"You've really gotten way more affectionate," she said with a soft laugh.
"I'd be hugging you even if I was a werecrocodile right now." She patted Blake's back and then stepped out of the hug. "I know I'm gonna miss you, because I missed you before."
"I'll be sure to call." Blake's ears then tilted in curiosity. "Werecrocodiles?"
"They're a thing!" Yang defended. "Really rare, though. They're almost solely in Argonia."
"Glad we won't run into any of those out here." The idea of a bipedal crocodile with claws was suitably terrifying to Blake. She went back to tying up her bedroll and strapped it to her pack before shouldering it. As she did, she saw a thoughtful look cross Yang's face.
"You sure we can't use that Key?" Yang asked, her eyes tracking towards the pouch that housed the Daedric artifact, but Blake shook her head.
"I made a promise," Blake countered. "Besides, even if everything unlocked by the Key wasn't supposed to close back up after it's returned, there's no telling what side effects there are to 'unlocking' our potential. For all we know, it could be the one thing that gives Nocturnal a grip on my soul. Or anyone else's."
"Yeah. Sucks. Especially how returning it would just switch everything right back off. Guess that's why Mercer didn't just put it back when he was done." Yang paused, then shrugged. "That and the endless greed."
Blake nodded, and the two went over to where the others were smothering the campfire. Toggle was leading Lucky Day back to them by a rope, and Yang patted the boar on the head as she took it from him.
"Good piggy." Yang turned to face her partner. "Right. We'll be heading down to Riften with your buddies. Then I'll get Yngvarr and Gunmar and head to Fort Dawnguard. We'll figure out what to do from there."
"I'll be heading toward the Sepulcher. I might also make a quick stop by Lakeview and check on how M'rissi and Inigo are doing." Blake lightly sighed. "Kinda worried about the state we left Inigo in."
"I'm sure he's fine," Yang countered. "If not, it's probably just an evil wizard somewhere we'll have to beat up and/or send to Oblivion."
"Honestly, I'm hoping for a change of pace there."
"Yeah. They're starting to get old, aren't they?" Yang smiled brightly before giving Blake one last parting hug and then mounted her steed. "Stay safe, Blake."
"You, too." The Faunus watched them head off before going and getting Patches to head south.
"So that's when I realized the song is about 'finding' or even making a new, better world, not going back to an old one. About making one in the real world that once only existed in the singer's mind."
Lydia only nodded, truly engrossed by Ruby's explanation but not having much to say on it herself. She was used to music being fairly simple and straightforward, but it seemed Remnant's bards had taken the art to incredible new heights. The closest thing to it she ever beheld was the Harpy music that she heard in their rare travels to Skyrim.
The two stopped as they came close to a man in dark robes standing in the middle of the road. Lydia eyed him suspiciously, then dismounted before approaching, feeling for her Aura hidden just below the surface.
"What's up?" Ruby asked her.
"Just wait. I have a bad feeling about this." Ruby listened and simply dismounted and stood next to her horse as Lydia went on to approach the hooded being.
"Is everything all right, sir?" Lydia asked the figure.
"I heard the Dragonborn was traveling this way," he answered, a smile peeking out from under his hood. "I was hoping to meet her. You wouldn't happen to be her, would you?"
Lydia's eyes narrowed, and her mind immediately plotted out her next move should it become necessary. "And what if I am?"
The cloaked man shrugged. "Well, I suppose safe is better than sorry."
Noises came from the brush on both sides of the road and Lydia felt her instincts scream at her to move. As she leaped back, a black beam blasted the area she was just standing in. The hooded man snarled and raised his hands. As prismatic beams fired from his palms, Lydia summoned up her shield, deflecting them away from her. One hit a tree and charred a deep gash into it while the other raked across one of the other robed figures' legs, leaving a burning line as he shouted.
The man gave up his attack and made a new spell. Lydia moved as an Umbral Orb came to be, her surprise making her hesitate just enough for him to magically throw it at her. She skidded back against the dirt but quickly regained her bearings and pulled out her sword and shield. Ruby had sent the horses away and began engaging with their attackers as well, sending up a set of Rods of Power and summoning a Servitor, a ball of light that followed behind her and blasted her enemies.
The Dragonborn ran around the dark mages, hitting one with a Sentinel and Shockwave Cascade before kicking him towards some of his fellows. After the second volley of flares impacted him, he exploded in a burst of energy that sent two flying and another towards her Rods. Feeling her magicka running low, Ruby took out Crescent Rose and charged towards one of the mages who was readying a pair of Umbral Orbs. One flew towards her head, easily dodged, but the other landed in front of her then exploded. Ruby pushed up her Aura to absorb the blast and ran through it. But as her scythe came around towards the man, something slammed into her from the side and sent her flying into a nearby rock, shattering it.
"Lord Biidurvul!" the mage happily greeted the dragon as Ruby got back up to her feet. "You're just in time!"
"You all attacked too early," the dragon reprimanded him before looking down at Ruby. "The Dragonborn is no mere mortal, though mortal her body may be. Keep her servant distracted and watch for her as I finish her off. For the Dark Archon! For Ilmaasi!"
"For Ilmaasi!" the remaining mages cheered. Lydia soon found herself dodging a bombardment of spells as they refocused on her. Ruby went to help her, but a wall of blue fire suddenly leaped out of nowhere at the call of Biidurvul.
"Dragonborn, this time you do not have your mages to back you, and I have brought my own." An expression Ruby recognized as a draconic smile was drawn across his face. "Things will be different this time."
"I can still beat you on my own," she declared as she shifted into a familiar combat stance.
"We shall see. Vul Kun Nil!"
Ruby ran away from the Crushing Dark Light as it smashed everything in its path. When it ended, she quickly threw a pair of ice spikes and followed it up with a Shout.
"Yol Toor Shul!" The concentrated rush of flames headed towards the dragon, but he met it.
"Fo Krah Diin!"
Steam exploded out from the meeting point of their Shouts, spreading across the area. Ruby gritted her teeth when it ended and she found that she couldn't see her foe.
"Laas Yah Nir!" Biidurvul almost whispered, letting Ruby know that even if she didn't see him, he could see her now. She moved, aiming to get out of their fog bank while keeping a serpentine pattern. When she could see the sky clearly, Biidurvul burst out of the steam bank after her, rearing his head back.
"Strun!"
Ruby dodged out of the lightning's way and turned as she jumped, throwing up a firebolt then charging lightning up. Biidurvul turned to follow her as she launched it, but the dragon merely ignored it, the spell spraying across his scales as he readied himself.
"Fus Ro Dah!" he Shouted, sending Ruby and much of her surroundings flying through the air. While she managed to land on her feet, Biidurvul rushed up and bit down where she was. Ruby screamed as she reached up to keep the jaws from crushing her, managing to just catch his snout and hold him back, at the expense of dropping her scythe. Struggling against a much larger opponent, who was now pushing her back and down after finding he couldn't quite bite her as intended, Ruby tried to focus her magic purely through her mind and reached for Crescent Rose. The scythe was telepathically lifted and pulled through the air at speed. The ebony blade sliced against Biidurvul's neck, making him flinch back as scales and skin were flayed, leaving a spot that bled profusely. He cursed her in Dovahzul as he backed away, but Ruby grabbed Crescent Rose and leaped towards him, planning to clip a wing if she couldn't land any other hit. At the arc of his last jump, an Umbral Orb slammed into her side.
Getting up from her roll in the dirt, Ruby saw that two of the mages had left Lydia to their fellows and came to assist the dragon. Lydia, for her part, was being forced to take cover against so many mages. While two more bodies had joined those from before, there were still many more to take their place. Ruby tried heading towards the mages, planning to remove them from the equation, but Biidurvul's Lightning Breath forced her to stop before even getting halfway to them. She turned back to him and saw one of the mages send a healing spell into the dragon, stopping the bleeding from the wound she gave him. The other tried to hit her with a Prismatic Beam, but Ruby met it with one of her own. After a moment though, she began feeling the tug of her magicka running out. To make matters worse, Biidurvul was moving towards her.
Ruby spun out of the way of the beam just as her magicka flatlined and aimed to get some distance from them, only to end up inside of an Event Horizon. She turned to face the mage, but Biidurvul's head had peeked over its side, his next Shout aiming at her.
"Vul-"
"Bii Dur Vul!"
everyone heard echo across the area. Said dragon's eyes went wide as he turned to its source, only to take a spiked tail to his jaw. Ruby looked over and saw a white dragon turning through the air to stare at the black one he had just attacked.
"Aakdremsot?! (This is not your battle)!"
"(I have made it mine, brother),"
Aakdremsot answered. "(Too long I have hidden away. I will not let you bring an end to all worlds. Our Father coils as he does for a purpose beyond us. It is not up to you to end it)."
"(You do not know what I have learned. I will break us free from our prison. But it seems I must break you first)!"
Biidurvul leaped up and took flight as he and Aakdremsot Shouted at one another and began flying above and around the battlefield.
"What in the Dark Archon's name…?" the mage wondered aloud.
"They're argue-fighting. It's a dragon thing," Ruby explained before remembering who it was she was speaking to. The mage seemed to remember too as both went back to a fighting stance. He began charging a pair of spells in hand while Ruby ducked down and Shouted.
"Wuld!" She went by him while slicing through with Crescent Rose, then the mage fell over as his head rolled away. His Event Horizon collapsed without him there to power it, and the other mage looked at Ruby with fear as she slowly backed away. Ruby turned her attention back to the mages attacking Lydia and rushed towards them, using her Semblance to flit between the first three and cut them down before running at the others. Five were down before they knew what had happened, and suddenly they were being attacked from two sides. Finally finding relief, Lydia charged out with her shields up and into a mage, who she ran down before impaling him against the ground.
Biidurvul and Aakdremsot crashed into each other, claws sending scales and blood flying as they spoke and Shouted. Biidurvul went to bite, but where his long neck made such offense easier, Aakdremsot's shorter neck let him defend himself better than he could attack. The white dragon caught the black one by the neck behind his horns and then pulled as he spun. Biidurvul fell through the air before righting himself and the two Shouted, their Unrelenting Forces clashing in the air and neither betraying the name, instead exploding out with the sound of thunder and hitting the earth below. Ground was churned and trees uprooted. Two mages were caught up in it and disappeared below the wave of dirt while Ruby ran away from the hazard.
The mages found themselves on the backfoot, their number now reduced to half of what it was at the start of the ambush. Now they were the ones hiding from Lydia and Ruby as they systematically cut down one after the other.
Biidurvul roared in rage as he flew above Aakdremsot, the white dragon turning and aiming a Shout at him.
"Kun Shul Ag!"
Biidurvul dropped beneath the Burning Light and reared back for his own attack.
"Vul Kun Nil!"
Seeing the beam coming, Aakdremsot almost calmly turned his head to let the Burning Light Clash against the Crushing Dark Light. The two opposing energies released heat and gravity at their meeting point as purple and white saturated the area around them. For a moment, everyone could only stare in awe, but then Ruby snapped out of it and stepped up.
"Strun Kun Qo!" she Shouted at the black and blue dragon. Biidurvul saw it coming out of the corner of his eye, but was unable to move out of the way or stop it in time. The Lightning Breath hit his chest, interrupting his own Shout and let Aakdremsot's Burning Light reach him. He moved his head out of the beam's direct trajectory, but it still hit the side of his face and jaw, burning away part of his horn and scorching his scales. He roared in pain as he flew back and saw his mortal allies in their own dire straits.
"Fall back!" he commanded. "Fall back for now!"
"Do you run, Biidurvul? Will you not fight until the end?"
Aakdremsot mocked. Rather than answer him, the dragon turned and seemed to focus as he glided forward.
"Bo Wuld Strun!" with that Shout, Biidurvul suddenly shot away, trees bending and breaking at his passing and a whirlwind of dust and debris shooting up in his wake. Ruby guarded her face and then turned towards the place where the ambushers had been, only to find that the survivors had disappeared.
"Where'd they go?" she asked her housecarl as she came up to her side.
"I think they had teleport scrolls. I just checked one of the bodies, but the scroll he had disintegrated when I touched it." Lydia looked over at Ruby and sighed. "That was close. If we had been caught off-guard, we might not have gotten out of that so well. Those people were prepared."
"Yeah." A small shake of the ground was felt by them and they turned to look at the white dragon who had come to their aid. "H-hello, I mean… Drem Yol Lok, Aakdremsot."
"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin." The dragon replied, bringing his head close. "Yol Toor Shul."
Ruby felt the harmless, warm flames wash over her as Lydia jumped back with a yelp. Ruby took it in and felt the protectiveness and fraternity that seemed to emanate from the fire and Aakdremsot himself. When it ended, she took in a deep breath to offer him her own.
"Yol Toor Shul," she greeted him, her fire managing to coat him completely. The dragon seemed pleased and make a rumbling sigh.
"Zeymah," he seemed to sadly contemplate.
"So, you knew what Biidurvul was up to?" Ruby asked him. "You knew he was going to attack us?"
"Yes and no," he answered. "I was informed of his intentions and your opposition to him and this dark Magne-Ge, this Ilmaasi. I knew he would seek to destroy you, though I did not know when or where. Now he knows that I Shout against him, assuming he did not know beforehand."
"Wait, who told you about this stuff?" Ruby asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"That would be Astetu and me," they heard. The three looked up the wrecked road to see Seletar emerge from behind a series of boulders and begin approaching them. "Forgive me, Dragonborn. While I have knowledge of many magics and spells, I fear my practical application of them is not nearly enough to match the likes of a dragon or his army of mages."
Ruby and Lydia looked silently at Seletar, the housecarl giving him a soft, irritated glare while Ruby pursed her lips in thought, then nodded.
"Yeah, that's fair. Glad to see you're fine, at least." Ruby looked back at the dragon, then at Seletar again. "So how did you find Aakdremsot?"
"Ah, I did not find our flying friend. He found me after Astetu spoke with him. The war between him and Ilmaasi is escalating, as I feared."
"Who is Ilmaasi, anyways? Astetu is from the Blend Sign and a child of Scintil, like you said."
"Ilmaasi is a Spirit of Y, a cursed Penumbra," Seletar explained. "He is a fragment of the shattered Mnumbrial, once the Mother Dawn. She lost her Dawns to the Critic Mark, darkening her light forever."
"Mnumbriel?" Ruby wondered aloud before going into her sack and pulling out the book on the Magne-Ge.
Mnumbrial was once revered as the mightiest of the Y-spec Spirits. Then her issue, the Dawns, succumbed to the Critic Mark, a curse of Nana Null that has yet to be lifted. The Untime Folk still propitiate Mnumbrial, depicting her as a gigantic Mother Dawn holding an urn of endless M that feeds into any nearby sliver, wake, or dream. The Wise say that this M is a symbol of the loss Mnumbrial feels for failing her children… and a perhaps even as a path to curing them.
"Oh…wow," she muttered after taking that in. Even without working around the weird terms, of which there were several, she got the gist of it. "That's terrible. No mother should lose her children…"
"The Magna-Ge do not have emotions like you and me. It is more…complicated. When a star goes out, another Dawn succumbs to the Mark."
"That's not how I learned it in science class, but I guess things work differently here." Ruby closed the book and put it away. "So, I need to keep finding the Skyshards, right?"
"Yes, that is correct. You will also need to practice the magic of the Magna-Ge in order to combat Ilmaasi or any other Spirits of the Untimes. Merid's blade will also be helpful in that regard."
"That's good to know. So how-" Seletar offered Ruby a map, which she took in hand and unfurled. "Oh, thank you."
"I enchanted it myself," Seletar explained as Ruby began to examine the map. "It will more clearly mark out the locations of the Skyshards connected to the psionic guide the Marker gifted you. It is connected to your mind alone, so others will not be able to use it against you."
"Cool. Is it supposed to be showing where my friends are, though?"
"So long as you are the one holding it and have approximate knowledge of where they are or should be."
"So Lydia can't?" Ruby handed the map to her housecarl, who looked at it in her own hands.
"I don't see the Skyshards, but I do see where Yang, Blake, and Weiss are, as well as many of my friends back at Whiterun," Lydia revealed. Seletar shrugged and shook his head.
"Well, attuning something to only work with one person is very complicated."
"A good effort for a mortal mage," Aakdremsot complimented him. "Ge. Many of the greatest mages from the height of our power would have been hard-pressed to create such an item."
"Thank you, my friend." Seletar smiled. "It means much to hear words of encouragement from a child of Aka."
"This'll definitely help a bunch, Seletar." Ruby rolled up the map and stashed it away. "Lyd, you mind getting the horses?"
"Right away," the housecarl answered.
"You are probably tired from your journey as well," Seletar stated. "I will see about preparing a space. I've managed to clean up much of the temple in my time here."
"Thanks," Ruby told him as he walked away. She then looked toward Aakdremsot, who met her gaze. "So, do you…hate me?"
He shook his head. "Nid, Dovahkiin. I have nothing to hate you for."
"But I killed Mirmulnir," she reminded him. "I know, from his memories, that he was your friend. You two saw each other for thousands of years with…some others I can't remember as clearly. You two would talk for hours or just sit and perch in silence. And I…"
"Mirmulnir's death was the result of him attacking a city with sufficient defenders. He wanted to please Alduin and cow the mortals for him. He did not fear death, for he knew Alduin, if no one else, would bring him back from his slumber. Your presence was something he did not account for." The dragon's head drooped down sadly. "Yet, I cannot be angry at him, either. His Strong Allegiance made him wish to Hunt for his Thur. All the same, he was faced with one Born a Hunter of Dragonkind."
Ruby felt her heart leap into her throat as her soul understood the words he spoke. Her breaths came shallow, but she managed to control them and look at Aakdremsot as he continued.
"Mirmulnir, as I knew him, is no more. What is left of him remains a part of you, Dovahkiin. I only ask that the memory of Mirmulnir strengthens you as you move ahead."
"It- It will. I promise it won't be in vain."
Weiss was positively taken with what she found waiting for her in the various laboratories of the Duskfall Haven. Some were dedicated to finding new medicines and potions. Others were researching energy sources and machining. One, to her surprise, was actually trying to find a way to miniaturize Hammerfell cannons. She had become tangentially aware that cannons using a substance called 'black powder' was employed by Hammerfell militias and the Imperial Legions as siege weapons, but hadn't really considered the fact that guns existed in Tamriel in some form at any point. Never mind the fact that they had somehow created a brand-new propellant for such weapons, one not even Remnant had developed. Ruby would be thrilled to learn that the vampire looking into it had gotten as far as making a gun barrel bore and was simply lacking the means to power it aside from a hand crank.
Weiss ended up helping to focus on the development of a low-cost, low-effort cleaning spell and enchantment. Such spells actually did exist but were normally very hard to do, either because of the complexity of getting rid of dirt without also ripping up your floorboards or clothes, thus effort, or the power needed to get that sort of precision with far less time spent on it. Telvannis did it all the time, but they were also among the most powerful groups of mages on the continent as well as one of the most secretive, so it was expected that they'd either use spells with power most others couldn't exert or have made an easier one and simply not told anyone about it.
Frankly, if her dreams of the Nerevarine's interactions with the Telvannis were indicative of anything, they were a bunch of jerks, with the one doing human/meri experimentation being the nice one. Powerful, but jerks nonetheless.
"So, if we have it woven like… No, that just makes a small dust devil," a vampire observed as a tiny funnel appeared at his feet.
"Impressive in its own way, at least," another said while she and those in the group took note of the spell. Weiss tried copying it and felt her own small wind funnel form, then applied some of the weavings in her clothes drying spell, making a warm swirl of air appear before her.
"Good for drying clothes," she mentioned to the others, not caring to take full credit for her spell.
"Maybe that could work if we make it concentrated and move it about the floor?" someone suggested.
"That might get up dirt and loose trash, but it won't clean up stains or anything caked on."
"Sometimes that's all you need."
They went over a few more things, simultaneously feeling like they progressed while getting nowhere closer to their goal. When they split up for other things, Weiss decided to head down and see if Jarmak was ready for the next phase of her training. After the ice trap, he mostly just tested her knowledge of vampiric blood magics and looked over her Vampire Lord form. He hadn't actually taught her anything else, though she had a feeling he would soon enough.
When she came into the room, there was a strange fountain placed at its center that wasn't there before. It seemed to be carved from black marble, with a pearl finish on the inside of the basin. A couple of clay jugs of water sat nearby, Jarmak setting an empty one down next to them before looking up and seeing her.
"Hm, Weiss, I was just about to send for you," he greeted her before picking up another jug and pouring it into the basin.
"Is this another test?" she asked as she walked in and looked into the fountain's water to see her reflection.
"No, it is a lesson. And, perhaps, an explanation." He poured in a third jug and hummed. "Serana mentioned you found a journal of Valerica's."
"Yes, it mentioned you," Weiss recalled. "It said you fled after figuring out Harkon was committing Diablerie." Weiss then recalled something else mentioned to her by the Altmer vampire. "Diablerie… Isn't that what you called… Oh what was his name? Aaron?"
"Aargin," Jarmak corrected her. "And yes, he was also given to…committing that crime."
"So, both of my 'sires' are offenders of the worst crime to vampires," Weiss groaned in annoyance. "I don't quite get it, though. I understand why having it happen to you is horrifying, but what's with the fear of being the one doing it?"
Jarmak actually guffawed for less than a second. Weiss looked at him as he reached up and pulled back his hood before rubbing his thin, close-cut hair. Weiss realized she never really got a good look at the elf's face, but now she could see how worn down and withered he appeared.
'Did he always look like that throughout his unlife, or was it his unlife that did it to him?' she wondered just as Jarmak began to speak once again.
"Weiss, our souls are destined for Coldharbour upon our deaths," Jarmak explained. "But for vampires, this alone is not so horrible. We are ranked just below the Daedra that serve Molag Bal and only subject to those who can make subjects of us. For ones like you and I, we would be very high in such a hierarchy. Only the most powerful of vampires, the Dremora, and the Titans would stand above us. The worst of it is the lack of blood, driving us further into our thirst and monstrosity with every passing day, until even the pain of blood-starvation becomes numb."
Jarmak's expression turned grim. "However, those who commit Diablerie have committed an offense against Molag Bal himself. They stole from him, even if only temporarily, and he will not let such a slight against him go unpunished. His infinite attention and the most transcendent of agonies the God of Torture has ever fathomed are theirs for all eternity. Few have ever escaped his wrath, and I doubt Aargin is among them."
Weiss took all of this in with mounting horror. She wouldn't say she'd experienced the worst pain in the world already, but she definitely knew of pain. Both physical and emotional. She couldn't even imagine what a being whose entire existence revolved around tormenting others would think up for the people who angered it. All she could envision was someone screaming in agony, endlessly.
"But, if they-" she began, but Jarmak cut her off.
"I can already guess. Yes, Harkon believes he may have a way around it all. In fact, I believe I know what it is, but I do not yet have all the pieces. For now, I want to show you something. A piece of my own history and the history of Harkon."
Weiss' interest was piqued as the vampire went up to the fountain and pressed a finger to his forehead. He pulled the finger back, leading out a line of nearly transparent green. It touched the surface of the water and the line became opaque as incandescent lights began to shine from the pearl basin. An image formed in the large pool of water, showing a younger-looking Jarmak wearing a tricorn hat and a longcoat, standing on the portside of a ship.
"When I was young, barely in my eighties, I was a privateer from the Direnni Empire. The crew I served with normally made a living taking Atmoran merchant vessels or escorting the Empires'. However, things took a turn some time after the war between Ysgrammor and the Snow Elves. Word had reached us that a group in the north had managed to survive, but were in dire straits. Our captain believed we could use our ships to safely transport them and be rewarded handsomely by the Falmer and the Direnni nobles."
The moving image showed Jarmak being rocked by something and then turning to see an incoming fleet of longboats and larger, old-fashioned vessels. He pulled forth his sword as others came up and readied themselves for battle, some taking up bows and others throwing spells.
"The Nords had caught wind of them as well, but they were on their way to destroy them. At first, it seemed like a battle in which we would struggle, but could definitely pull though."
Elves and humans fought in a brutal melee as they closed in with each other, arrows and spells flying between them as blades clashed. For a moment, it really looked like the elves could have pulled off a win, but then a thunderous voice rang out and one of their ships was crushed and capsized.
"Fus Ro Dah!" a large and burly Nord Shouted, destroying another skiff with almost no effort.
"It was too late, but we knew then that the Nords were not aiming for battle but extermination. For the few of us that managed to get close to their ships however, this just spurred us to act fiercer and swifter. I was frightened beyond anything I'd ever felt. I had experienced battle, but never something like this. I was young and feared for my life. Yet, I had enough presence of mind to know that running would do us no good."
Through the frantic battle, which was beginning to push the Nords back, Jarmak cut precisely and kept looking for the ship with the Nordic Tongue. It came close to them, the man looking at them with disgust before turning his attention to a ship that wasn't too close to one of his allies.
"Fus Ro Dah!"
Another capsized vessel, its occupants either dead or easy targets in the freezing water. The ship came near the vessel they were in a pitched battle with, and Jarmak managed to break through, a Chain Lightning spell aimed in such a way as to hit as many men directly in front of him as it could. He then rushed through, a Lightning Wall trailed to one side of him to keep attackers at bay. He ran across the whole width of the ship and then jumped towards the passing ship holding the Tongue. The men were shocked by his brazen attempt, but many were distracted by being actually shocked before he ran toward the bow, where the Tongue stood.
Jarmak rushed him, seeing the anger and hatred in his eyes turn to fear as he made to utter his Shout once again. Jarmak though, was faster. Having gone full tilt, the Altmer reached him in less than a second and sliced his sword through his throat. Crimson blood gushed out, and the Nord clenched the wound futilely with his hands before his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the ship's deck. The elf had given it all in that moment, and so his momentum carried him over the end and into the water, where he looked up at the sun shining through the waves.
"At that moment, I felt more alive than I ever had before. I had slain a Tongue, one of the most feared forms of Men to ever walk the world. I had looked death in the face and seemingly slit its throat." Jarmak paused, then shook his head.
"That elation was not to last."
The younger Jarmak surfaced, taking in a deep lungful of air and looked around himself. He started to swim towards one of his people's ships but when he came close, Nords looked over its side at him. He started trying to swim away, but one had managed to lasso him by the neck and drag him back. They pulled him up then beat on him with their fists and feet, but then someone barked at them to stop. The crowd parted, revealing a man holding Jarmak's sword and looking it over.
"You killed Turifn, elf," he stated while walking over to him. "Sent the old man to Sovngarde. Well, we should reward such a brave warrior. Take him to the ship."
Jarmak looked at Weiss with a resigned expression. "I would soon learn that this was not mercy, but a twisted form of spite. They took me alive, believing themselves to be robbing me of a proud death while condemning me to where all elves taken alive by Nords at those times went: slavery."
Weiss gasped as she watched them tie him up below the deck of one of their larger vessels. Time then seemed to pass quickly, showing him being freshly imprisoned one moment then haggard and dehydrated the next.
"It was some time before I realized that no one else had been taken alive in the battle. Only I was deemed worthy of such a fate. The Snow Elves were different. I heard the slaughter even from the ship. Then they dragged in more prisoners. They killed everyone who could fight back, killed some more, and then took from the survivors only those who looked useful, and killed the rest. Out of thousands of elves, only a few hundred survived."
Pale-skinned men, women, and children elves were soon stuffed in below deck with the captured privateer. Many were dragged in screaming, sometimes split from their families when it became too crowded. More than once someone was slain when they were judged to be unfit. Once it seemed sufficiently filled to the Nords, they shut it up, leaving the elves below with almost no light.
"We were taken to Dawnstar and sold off. Falmer slaves were seen as cheap labor. But an Altmer like me would have to be extremely lucky for anyone to even think of doing anything but killing them." Much to Weiss' surprise, Jarmak let out a soft chuckle and smile. "My luck hadn't quite run out, it seemed."
A man wearing a gold circlet looked Jarmak over with interest, cupping his chin as he questioned the slavers.
"I had caught the interest of a jarl - then a title akin to a sovereign king - Jarl Herron. He heard about how I'd killed the Tongue, and so he bought me. But it was not just his martial interest. His kingdom bordered the Direnni lands, and so he wanted someone who could advise him in dealing with the elves and manmer."
The young Jarmak changed, going from the haggard slave stripped of his possessions to a well-dressed mer speaking with the jarl with confidence.
"The faith I had lost in mankind was rekindled in him. Herron believed in peaceful resolutions, even between man and mer. He understood that war had a time and place, but only considered it as the last resort. My time serving him was happy, despite the loss of my old life.
"It was in this time I met the youth…who would become Harkon."
There was a young boy with a wooden sword, practicing his swings under the guidance of an old man with Akaviri features. He smiled brightly as his father entered and began speaking with the swordmaster, Jarmak waiting back near the door.
"He was smart and skilled, a talented child who grew into a clever young man. All his life, he never wanted for anything. All that he desired was his nearly the moment he wanted it. But there is always something out of reach for mortals."
Herron seemed to stumble, gripping his forehead before almost falling forward. The boy Harkon moved to help his father, even as the jarl continued falling to his knees. Harkon looked scared to death as he watched his father gasp as sweat poured down his brow.
"The rot struck Herron suddenly, but made its way through him slowly. For years he fought against it, withering away before our eyes."
Weiss saw the same man, now more resembling a draugr, laying in a bed and looking towards a nearly grown Harkon. Jarmak and some others stood opposite of them, watching as the jarl's life slowly slipped away from him.
"After Harkon assumed the throne, the direction of the kingdom changed. He expanded his borders greatly, becoming a feared name to the rest of Skyrim. He also began…indulging in practices most would deem taboo. Herron had allowed a limited freedom of religion, with the Nordic pantheon above all else, but Harkon's focus turned to the darker aspects of the gods. When he took a wife, many said she fueled his dark desires, but in truth, they fed into each other."
Harkon was standing still next to a woman who greatly resembled Serana, the two holding between them a little girl that was Serana herself, all posing for a painting.
"All his life, Harkon never wanted for anything. It was too late to teach him of restraint now that nearly no one had the power to stop him. As he and Valerica delved deeper, their acts became more and more questionable. It started with chickens and goats, animals meant to be slaughtered whose sacrifice to dark gods would only be…frowned upon. But they soon felt the need to sacrifice mortal lives, as that would be what pleased the dark gods the most."
A man in sackcloth was held over a stained altar before his throat was slit, his head being held to let the blood run over it.
"Criminals, men meant for execution were the first. Innocents came later, but only in secret, and I…did nothing to stop them. I kept seeing myself as having somehow ending up back on that boat, but this time…I was a participant."
The image showed a young boy crying before his head was held back and his throat slit like the grown criminal from before, only now it was done by golden-skinned hands. Weiss saw Jarmak holding him over the altar to let blood coat it, most of it pouring upon a statue of Molag Bal.
"This may have been the end of it, if things had continued as they were. But one day, Harkon faced an enemy he could not cow or conquer."
Harkon fell to his knees near some of his courtiers. Serana ran up to him and helped him up, but his face showed abject fear as he shook and sweated bullets.
"The rot," Weiss realized, and Jarmak nodded.
"His fear of falling as his father did pushed him that final distance. We were already almost solely dedicated to Molag Bal, but now Harkon meant to gain the Prince of Domination's undivided attention. So, we gathered together a thousand innocents…and slaughtered them."
Men, women, and children were shown being herded by warriors towards a single spot, before Harkon gave the signal and they began butchering them. The commoners tried to flee, but they had been totally boxed in, with more than enough soldiers surrounding them to keep them at bay. Weiss saw Jarmak, a dead look in his eyes, cut through one unarmed civilian after another. A woman clutching a young boy seemed to fall to her knees to beg for mercy, but he simply cut off her head and ran the child through, not a hint of hesitation or a change of expression on him.
"I had gone from being unable to stop the atrocities I loathed to committing them. Perhaps I did not enjoy it as many others did, yet I never breathed a word in protest against it." The present Jarmak looked downcast. Weiss could see the shame that now filled his eyes and swallowed. For a moment, she had thought of him as a monster, before remembering that what she was viewing was memories from nearly five thousand years ago.
"This was enough to gain his attention, and Molag Bal was summoned forth into the world." A miasma of darkness and teal light began to spread forth, parting to reveal a being taller than a Giant, with cold glowing eyes, horns, reptilian skin, and a maw of razor-sharp teeth. With wide eyes, Weiss remembered an image shown to her in the Book of Fate, and she realized now that the massive being she had been shown facing was this very same creature. Her mind spun wildly for a moment around the thought of how in the world she was meant to face The God of Domination at any point in her future, but the displayed memories did not pause to let her figure it out. The warriors responsible for the massacre and the royal family all kneeled before him, and the Daedric Prince began to laugh. Even as a memory, the laugh shook her very bones.
The shimmering ended, and the images disappeared.
"After that, Molag Bal bestowed the Volkihar family with his gift; pure-blooded vampirism. They then shared it with the rest of us who had helped them. That wasn't the end of things, though. Soon enough, much of the known world learned of what we had done, and we found ourselves beset upon from every side. Only a series of enchantments that hid the castle and its island saved us from extermination. That was also when Harkon first learned what it was to lose, after he thought he'd finally had everything."
Weiss shivered and held her body close. "That was… It was all so horrible," she muttered.
"It truly was. And yet, it may have been the beginning of…change for me." Jarmak looked at his hand and rubbed his fingers across his thumb. "We were monsters even before we became vampires. Many lusted for greater heights of power. Some, like me, had simply grown heartless." He closed his eyes and pulled his hood back over his head. "And Harkon feared. Not just of losing everything, but of seeing it all slowly being dragged away from him. Of succumbing to that aptly named disease and rotting away. In doing this, he began to truly lose all he had, and I began to fear again."
"You were afraid?" Weiss asked.
"Not at first. Not for…a hundred years or so. But it was why I left them. Not a sense of guilt or a change of heart, but fear." He hummed and looked across the room. "I've pulled up enough old memories. For now, I want to show you something that I've learned. And I have good reason to believe no one else has."
Weiss followed the elf as he walked away from the fountain, stopping as he turned to her and held up his arm.
"What I'm going to show you must never be spoken of outside of this place. Would you still like to know?" he asked with complete seriousness.
"What is it? Nothing diabolical, right?"
"Nothing of the sort," he answered with a shake of his head. "But it may place a burden upon your heart."
Weiss thought it over for a moment, looking at the offered arm.
"Can you say anything else about it?" Weiss asked, hoping for clarification.
"Not without showing you, first," Jarmak insisted.
"Does it have to do with the memories you just showed me?"
The elder vampire hummed. "Hm, in a way, I suppose it does."
The heiress sighed and pushed her hair back from her eye. "If I say no?"
"Then we are done for the day, and I will teach you something else in the future," Jarmak answered immediately.
"I really have nothing to lose then," she figured.
"Only ignorance, and the bliss with it."
Weiss paused and ruminated over her choices. Then, with a final shake of her head, she came to a decision.
"No, I can't ignore it now. I'll see what it is you want me to see." With only a small hesitation, Weiss reached up and placed her hand on the Altmer's arm. He nodded and walked them forward, placing his hand in a stone indention on the wall. A moment later, Weiss turned at the rumbling sound behind her to see a spiral staircase lower itself from the floor.
"A secret passage?"
"I've tested it many times," Jarmak said. "Only the touch of an Altmer has ever opened it. I believe a Falmer's could as well, but there has not been a way to test it."
He led them down the stairs into a room that felt even colder than those above it, actually bringing Weiss to shiver a little. At the bottom, they walked in through a doorway, and Weiss paused at the sight of two perfectly-shaped ice sculptures, both resembling elven warriors standing guard.
"Did you put these here?"
"I did not."
Inside the room were more sculptures. All around, facing outwards and towards the exits, were icy soldiers, as though standing guard. Huddled between them all was an array of other sculptures, taking the form of men, women and children. Some stood, looking tall and proud, while many sat, bundled up as though waiting out the cold. Toddlers were held close to mothers. Children and teenagers stayed near their family members. Men stood or knelt protectively over their charges. A number of elderlies were near the center, with children held close to them as well in places.
It was as they walked toward the center that Weiss stopped in her footsteps and looked to her side. It was the likeness of a woman elf holding her child, like several others, but this one had the child reaching for something that wasn't there, the mother reaching for his arm to stop him. Only, where Weiss would have expected the hand to already be holding the appendage, the woman's fingers did not touch the toddler's arm. Instead, they hovered, mere inches away from grabbing on, splayed out and ready to grasp.
Other details didn't make sense either. The hair looked strange. Some of them looked as though they hadn't bothered to brush theirs. In one case, it looked like a bit of static had made some girl's hair begin to stick out the side, separate strands of ice suspended between others. Looking closely at the nearest one's eyes, she saw how each individual lash stuck out away from them.
"Hm, have you noticed it, then?" Jarmak asked her from near the center.
"These… These aren't sculptures," she realized with growing horror.
"No." Jarmak shook his head. "They are Falmer. Snow Elves, frozen in time."
"H- How did this…? Who did this?" Weiss nearly demanded.
"They did," the Altmer answered to her surprise. "The secret lies here, in this pedestal, and the mind of this elder."
Weiss walked up to his side and saw the pedestal in question. Writing in a language she did not know covered its side, and the majority of a sword stuck out of its top, hilt up and blade tip sunk into the stone. Before it, an elder elf kneeled with his arms spread wide, as though in prayer.
"What is this?"
"The reason for the Haven's existence," Jarmak explained. "Since the fall of Mereth, and perhaps before, the elves have remained here. I could not read Falmeris, but I can read minds. I gently searched the minds of the warriors, elders, and every other adult here until I learned all that I could. They came down here to escape, but it was never meant to hold a large population for long. This was a secret shrine to Azura, housing her artifact, the Duskfall Blade."
"Duskfall?" Weiss looked back at the sword and saw the Daedric lettering down its length. She didn't study the Daedric alphabet too much, but she was willing to bet the word read out 'Duskfall'. "So that's where the name comes from?"
"It is. I first stumbled upon it…long ago. There were only a few vampires living here at the time, hoping to avoid the ire of mortals. They…capitulated to me quickly, even if they hated me for my heritage. I found this place by accident one day, and…I remembered."
Weiss waited in silence a moment, looking up at the Altmer expectantly.
"What did you remember?"
"A time…when I cared. When I hoped. I peered into the sleeping minds of these elves and saw…hope, despite it all. They held onto it, believing that one day, their kin would be able to bring the Dwemer to the fore and drive back the Atmorans who threatened to wipe them out. The priests prayed for a single boon from Azura, to be able to ride out the tides until the safety of the Falmer was guaranteed, and she granted it. They all came here, even the non-believers, and let her artifact's power be used to freeze them, until the day the Snow Elves' continued existence was assured."
"But…they're still frozen?" Weiss asked, trying to take it all in. "I know Skyrim's not the kindest place for elves, but there are some Holds that would be more than willing to help. The Empire would definitely try to assist them. Or even-"
"Weiss," Jarmak interrupted her. "This is all there is. There are three-hundred and forty-nine frozen elves in this chamber. There are none in any other place in the Haven. Thirty-two of them are old. A hundred and sixty-three are children. Of the able-bodied adults, fifty-four are warriors. Even if all goes well, this is not enough to begin a whole race anew. The Ayleid had thirty times this number when they retreated from Cyrodiil, and now all their living descendants are Bosmer or Bretons."
"But they… They would…" Weiss' voice trailed off in mounting horror as realization struck. Jarmak nodded, knowing exactly what she was thinking.
"Go extinct in a few generations, absorbed into the bloodlines of other mer races. Even if they and all their descendants live happy and fulfilling lives, all the way through to when snow-white skin is replaced by gold, grey, and brown, and the last vestiges of their culture is forgotten by all but historians, there will cease to be any Snow Elves. Their closest kin are twisted creatures who've sunk further than the Goblins ever were, and a population held in the thrall of a repressive regime. Even if the Aldmeri wanted their race to continue and got a hold on every last one of these souls, they would strictly control their lives and breed them like exotic griffins. Those Snow Elves would never know freedom again, and they would become puppets to the Dominion."
"Then…" Weiss looked at the sword and gulped before reaching out and touching its azure blade. She closed her eyes and hoped she wasn't pushing too far as she breathed out a request. "Azura, your champion asks for your guidance."
The blade seemed to hum, and a musical voice flowed out of it and into her mind.
"And you have it. The words are before you," Azura proclaimed, then fell silent once more.
Weiss blinked and looked back down at the pedestal. "I can't read Falm- Blake could, though!" she recalled before quickly texting her friend, hoping that she was right. A few minutes later, a few image messages were sent her way, snapshots of pages labeling translations and alphabetical transitions that made Weiss smile.
"Okay, this may take a bit of work, but-"
"If I may?" Jarmak requested, holding out his hand. Weiss nodded and then set her scroll into this palm.
"Right, well, you can see all the pictures from this screen and touch them to-"
Silently, Jarmak began waving forth a spell, green magicka springing forth between the scroll and the word-covered pedestal. Holographic-like words appeared above them in the air, letting Weiss read them, only to frown.
"It's…nothing we didn't already know," she got out with a sigh. "They really thought the Dwemer were going to come out and save them."
"They may have been half-right," Jarmak muttered, looking at one of the pages. "'Ilpen av sou meldi nagaiale as guntumnia, spantelepe-laelia arani Morae, ye sou liebali racuvane, ye nu rautane sye, ye nu hautalle nou buroi gume sou gravuloi, sa metane sye garlis. - Many of your people had perished under the roaring, snow-throated kings of Mora, and your wills were broken, and we heard you, and sent our machines against your enemies, to thereby take you under.'" He hummed and looked back at the words he had magically translated before ending the spell. "Perhaps it was better they did not find them, then."
"Maybe, but…Azura hasn't lied to me yet. She's not direct, so maybe the answer still lies with the Dwemer." She looked back at the sword, taking in its visage. "Maybe somewhere secluded, where no one has yet to return from, there are still Snow Elves unaffected by whatever the Dwemer did to the others. Maybe even in one of the Dwarves' own ruins. I just know that there has to be a way, somehow."
Jarmak smiled to her before handing back the scroll. "I was right."
"Right about what?"
"You, Weiss. I could still see that spark of light within you from the moment we met. Hope and kindness have not left your heart, even in the grip of the one who, more than all others, wishes to extinguish such things. Never lose that hope, child."
Weiss couldn't help but smile, then nodded. "I won't. And…I appreciate you letting me know about this place. You… You let me know about them because you believe in me?"
"I do. I did say I see the kindness within you. It runs…deep. I cannot explain it in so many words. There are simply signs we learn to see after so long." He hummed. "If the day ever comes, I know you will be there to help them, even if I'm not."
"I will, I mean…" Weiss took in a deep breath and looked out and around at the crowd of frozen elves. "No, not just be there. I'll look for the way myself. If it exists, then I'll find it."
He laughed, actual joy in his voice. "You sound so certain."
"Of course," she answered with a smile and crossing of her arms. "After all, I have all the time in the world."
13th of Evening Star
Bo Wuld Strun - Fly Whirlwind Storm - Mach speed flight