Star Two:
Sotha Sil removed the child from his atelier soon after his birth, to place him instead inside the Cogitum for examination. Their return was quiet, unheeded; no fanfare to welcome the small lord and, indeed, for a time all remained unaware that he even existed. As he entered his main study, Seht cradled his new secret to his chest and smiled softly at him.
His study was a world of machines and metal, of conveyer-belt bookshelves that stretched up from the floor and fed into the ceiling, and desks laden with half-finished projects and parts of Dwemer technology. Its walls held a thousand mysteries. A thousand more would pass through them. But for now, as Seht laid Aem'uvus down on a cleared table, no other matter was more important.
It was hard to believe, he thought as he looked over him, that this small, fragile, naked creature could hold the blood of Molag Bal. From the soft shimmer of his golden skin to the tufts of down on his head, he bore no resemblance to the Corruptor. His nose was a button upon his face, his lips bow-shaped, and his chin came to a gentle point. Seht saw that in the future, he would become as beautiful as he was once before. But that was a distant time.
"Aios," he said, and in the corner a partition started to glow. The transparent, golden image of his master system appeared, an imitation of life, and greeted him with dutiful reverence. Its voice had always comforted him. Reminded him of the past.
"How may I assist you, Master Sil?"
"I will need cloth," he informed it. "Have a factotum collect some samples from the Hall of Refined Techniques."
"Yes, my lord. To what dimensions?"
"Enough to swaddle. Forty-seven by forty-seven inches should suffice."
"I have issued the directive. Do you require further assistance, Master Sil?"
"Yes. Have the lesser automata prepare a disused portion of the Cogitum for conversion. That will be all."
"Your will be done, Master Sil."
The hologram faded, and left Sotha Sil with the child once more. He admired him in the artificial light. Aem'uvus had fallen asleep, and as his small chest rose and fell with each breath, the architect considered for a moment the implications of his birth. How Vivec would weep if he knew. How Almalexia, she who reviled him, would push for his destruction. Her wrath would know no limits, and her heart would not thaw to his frail appearance.
"How cruel a world that led to this moment," he quietly told the slumbering infant. "I shall protect you, my little lord, from those who would seek to harm. Rest, now. We have much to do when you wake."
Aem'uvus stirred, but remained asleep.
These stars are proving quite tricky. It took me over two hours to catch this one, and that's after I managed to crack my knee against an old memory receptacle. But a Sathler doesn't shy away from a challenge, and certainly not one issued by the Mystery of Morrowind himself! I just bandaged it up and caught this little bugger with a trap. No more flying off now!
I should make a note here so I don't forget. There's a level of the Deep Deck that's become inaccessible since it was locked down, but it seems to have contained several of the memories Lord Seht is looking for. The lifts that lead to it have been shut down, and the only other route is through a sealed staircase in an area with a large hostile factotum presence. If I can, I'll try and locate the power source for the lifts before I take on that staircase. I might be formidable, but I'm no Divayth Fyr. Lord Seht's machines were built to last.
I must admit, it's quite unnerving to be down here by myself. I mean, I'm not a coward, but every so often a star shoots past the corner of my vision and gives me a start, and their echoey voices don't help much either. The lantern I brought with me has proved invaluable, as most of the lights are either broken or powered off at the source. When I head up to the surface for supplies, perhaps I can requisition some of the imported sujamma. It's usually out of my budget, but I've been assured that all I need will be made available to me – and I really need some sujamma.
But, first, my findings. I remember that Sotha Aem'uvus was a rather well-kept secret before he came out into the public, but the details around that are mostly hearsay. I was so young then, I don't remember much else. The opinion of the Congress – which, I'll admit, can be coloured at times – is that, since he was such a powerful asset and, of course, precious to Lord Seht, he chose to keep him at his side for as long as possible. From what my mother's told me, the Cogitum was just a more private place to teach him to his father's standards. Could you imagine what he would have learnt down there? The secrets made available to him? I mean, his father is the wisest mage in all creation, a pillar of knowledge and reason. I would kill to have him as my personal tutor.
But the comments of Vivec and Almalexia. That unsettles me, and I can't quite figure out why. Perhaps it's linked to this apparent past referenced in the earlier memory. But why would the Warrior-Poet weep, and the Merciful Mother demand destruction? What could be so foul and terrible that their roles would be reversed so starkly?
By the Three, there goes another one! A star just raced through the hall beside me. I caught the tail end of someone speaking; U-vee's voice, saying, "I trusted you, and all you did was lie." That's…ominous. I wonder who he was talking to?
Well, no time now to hurry off and catch it. I have this one to record, first. I'm sure I'll cross paths with it again – after all, these stars fly all over!
Star Three:
Sotha Sil had called forth the four most impressive of his Congress to attend him in the Loqutorium. It was a private affair, and orders had been issued for the Apostles to leave the area and the adjacent Nave so that their meeting would suffer no listening ears.
He stood on the stage, where he admired the familiar metalwork that structured the walls, the arched mural that adorned them. Beside him rested a brass crib, and on occasion he glanced down to ensure the treasure within remained nestled and content. Aem'uvus' eyes observed him curiously. His hands clenched over and over in half-formed thought. But he did not cry, so Seht smiled upon him and waited for his people to arrive.
Soon, he heard footsteps upon metal, but the architect did not turn as the Apostles descended the ramp that led to the Loqutorium. Their reverence – and confusion – rolled off of them in waves. He waited until all had gathered behind him and their feet had fallen silent. Then, after a beat, he spoke.
"I thank you all for coming," he said as he slowly turned. Their eyes flicked between him and the cradle at his side, never resting for more than a moment. "I apologise for interrupting your work, but recent developments demand attention."
Before him stood a crop of the Congress's most capable; Braya B'irar, a Redguard, whose achievements in craft and transmutation surpassed even the longest-serving of Seht's followers; Avonase Sathler, a Dunmer, a devout master alchemist, who had created concoctions so impressive and complex that all students clamoured for her tutelage; Heem-Tei, an Argonian, an expert in construction and design, who from the moment of hatching had shaken sneers from his scales and produced works so intricate that none could best them; and Luciana Pullo, Seht's Breton head of security, her accomplishments too many to list, who glared at him with all of the fire of a woman betrayed.
"We are honoured to be called to your side, Your Grace," said Avonase. She was fair – a woman who, were she born in Vvardenfell, would have contended with a dozen suitors before she settled on a mate – and in her dark crimson eyes he saw an awe that had been tempered by experience.
Sotha Sil laced his fingers together. "I am sure I need not call your attention to the cradle beside me."
As if his words had given them permission, all eyes fell upon the crib. Aem'uvus, whose eyelids drooped, had made no murmur, and the Apostles that looked on him were silent as his head turned and he pressed his small, balled-up fist against his nose.
"Is…Is that a baby, my lord?" Braya asked.
"Yes, it is." Seht turned his head to look on him, and the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft, almost imperceptible smile. "It is a special time in the Fortress, my friends. Please; meet Sotha Aem'uvus. My son."
For a moment, it appeared as though his words had not registered in their minds. Each of his Apostles stared dumbly, from the warm honey-coloured eyes of Braya to the smaller, colder yellow of Heem-Tei. In Luciana's, however, he saw a certain fury; a rage that caused her lip to tremble ever-so-slightly, but whatever tirade she wished to unleash was held at bay in her clenched jaw and tightening fists.
"Y—Your son, my lord?" croaked Heem-Tei.
"Yes," he started to pace the stage, his step slow, thoughtful. "I understand this may be a surprise, but I implore you to listen, and listen well. There is yet more for you all to know."
It took a while, but soon the Apostles all tore their eyes from the cradle and returned them to Sotha Sil. Only Luciana had not looked down, her features twitching, the wrath in her expression tempered by a deep, festering sadness. Once their initial shock had passed – and, indeed, a few seconds more to ensure it had – the architect saw fit to speak again.
"Aem'uvus is young. Precious. The lastborn of the Chimer, and hope for our future. He is the promise of knowledge that surpasses even the wisest of our number. But there are those who would see him only as a target. I have many enemies. He must remain hidden, safely in the Cogitum."
"A child isn't an experiment. He can't just be locked away. He'd see it as a prison," Luciana interjected, with more venom in her voice than she perhaps intended. But despite her companions' tensed shoulders, Seht merely nodded.
"And I his jailor," he replied. "I'm under no illusions. There will come a time when circumstances are out of my control, and he will do what he must. But until that time, he is too fragile and frail, too small, to leave my sanctum. To leave my side. And so, he must remain a secret; even from my own followers."
Their brows crinkled in confusion, and the scholars looked at each other in bewildered camaraderie. A question was traded wordlessly between them, and it was Avonase who voiced it to him.
"But …Your Grace, then why have you called us?"
There was a pause. Seht came to a slow halt beside the cradle, and for a moment he was silent as he looked down on his son. A thought of the past flashed in his mind, but he set it aside and returned his gaze to the Apostles.
"It's best for Aem'uvus that he meets others," he explained. "He will need to be socialised, learn from not only myself, but from mortal men and mer. There are some aspects of life that can only be appreciated for their brevity. You all, of course, are exemplary in your respective fields. I would ask that you become his tutors, for the times that I'm unable to deliver his lessons."
"My lord," Braya's tone reminded him of worshippers from his youth. She rested her hand on her chest, and dipped her head forward with her eyes closed and her lips curved in a smile. "It would be our honour."
Heem-Tei copied her, bending his head so that Sotha Sil could see the blue-hued feathers that crested his scaled skull. "I can think of no greater task, Your Grace."
"We will provide him the entire breadth of our knowledge," vowed Avonase as she too bowed her head. But Luciana, with narrowed eyes and arms folded across her chest, regarded him almost suspiciously, and she did not respond as her companions did. Sotha Sil met her with his cool gaze. For those around them, the tension from the enforcer became like static. She opened her mouth to respond.
"Ah, Mother Morrowind."
Divayth's voice cut through the air, and both Seht and the Apostles turned to see him at the top of the ramp. He started the short descent, unbothered by Luciana's disapproving stare. "I assume it's safe to approach?"
"This is a private meeting, Fyr. The Nave's closed." The enforcer said, to which he offered her a derisive sniff.
"I go where I please."
She moved as if to confront him, but Heem-Tei dared put a clawed hand on her shoulder to remind her of her surroundings. The mages were locked in a staring contest for a long beat more, willing the other to make a move, before she shook off the Argonian's hand.
"He's not worth it, anyway," she half-growled. Before Fyr could respond, Seht spoke and commanded their attention once again.
"Divayth," he welcomed, "I will be with you in a moment. My friends—" he looked on the Apostles, "—thank you for your attendance. Further instructions will be sent to your residences. If you would return to your duties – and, once more I stress, not a word of this can be mentioned outside of this meeting. You are dismissed."
The Apostles departed, silent and dutiful, but each with competing expressions of pride, bewilderment, and excitement. All but Luciana, who remained stone-faced and solemn, felt some childish exhilaration that such a secret had been entrusted to them. Both Sotha Sil and his friend waited until the tell-tale whir of the entrance's gears sounded, the slide of the door as it clicked shut, before Divayth turned to him.
"This can't be kept a secret forever, Sil," he pointed out. "Sooner or later, some wagging tongue will reveal too much over a few ales, and rumours will abound."
"Perhaps," Seht acknowledged as he turned and came closer to the crib. "But for now, he is safe. There is time enough to make preparations, to nurture him, to see what he might reveal to us. Consider it an experiment."
"Oh, yes, the Great Experiment – take one of the most intelligent Mer in Nirn, add a resurrected half-Daedric infant, and observe the reaction," Divayth shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. "I find it interesting that you haven't mentioned Vivec yet. You don't plan on telling him what's happened here, do you?"
"No," Sotha Sil's hands were folded together, and he did not take his eyes from slumbering Aem'uvus as he spoke.
"Sil, this is still—"
"Perhaps, Divayth, but Aem'uvus must be protected. It pains me to admit, but no good would come yet of informing my brother that his child lives again."
The wizard paused and watched as his friend lifted the child from his cradle. Aem'uvus had been dressed in a long gown of fine white fabric, and he stirred quietly in the crook of his father's arms, little gurgles emanating before Seht settled a hand upon his chest and soothed him.
"You're making a mistake, my friend," he warned him, "but I can see you're committed to it. I'll take my leave for Tamriel, then. This is as close to a child as I ever want to be."
"Very well, my friend. Thank you for your aid with the Well. Perhaps, with Aem'uvus' help, we may yet unlock its secrets."
"Oh, don't say that – I hate feeling nauseous before portal travel."
The pair exchanged a brief farewell, and then Divayth too departed the hall and left the architect alone with his son. Sotha Sil looked at the child with his nose nestled against his robe, taking his small hands between his fingers and stroking soft circles with his thumb.
"You are one of my most ambitious projects," he murmured quietly. "If only I could protect you forever. Come, my little lord. We have a nursery to build."
My mother was one of Aem'uvus' personal tutors? My mother? My mother?
She never once mentioned that to me! Not even after Aem'uvus came out from the Cogitum! I always knew, of course, that she was considered the best alchemist in the Fortress – even better than my father – but she never, ever told me she taught the Seht-Son himself! She went to her urn with that one!
As much as that shocked me, though, I can't quite get over His Grace's comment, or his comparisons of U-vee to Molag Bal. I'm something of an expert in Tribunal history. I've read Lord Vivec's Sermons a hundred times over – you have to, to understand them – and the only mention of his children are from his unholy union with—
I don't even want to write it down. The implications are just enormous. That Aem'uvus had the blood of that monster inside of him – it's unthinkable. He embodied Lord Seht, mind and soul. They were inseparable for as long as I can remember, right up until he left the City. I just—it's difficult to know what to think right now.
I need to rest my knee and come up with a plan to catch the rest of these stars. Perhaps that will settle my mind some. Gear damn it, they better not deny my request for sujamma.
