Chapter 3: Caius Cosades
The sun touched the horizon when the silt strider approached the city of Balmora from the south, exiting a brief stint through some swamplands and following a river (the Odai River, as the Argonian called it.) The river cut straight through the middle of Balmora, its width now tightened by a deep and narrow canal. The city itself was a sprawl of short, sandy clay buildings. The land rose up in the western and eastern halves with streets and buildings layered in elevation like a terrace farm. A thick, simple clay wall surrounded Balmora on all sides.
The strider made dock at a tall, obelisk staircase near the city's south entrance. From there the whole city seemed stretched out before them, disappearing as they descended to the open plaza below. It was there that the Argonian made a brief but meaningful goodbye to Zayden. He handed him one last, freshly rolled cigar before stating that "I believe, one day, we shall meet again. May we both find what we seek in the world and may your mystery be solved."
Zayden grinned and with a handshake the two turned away from each other and began their separate paths. When the man looked back a moment later the lizard had already been lost to the crowd. Zayden thought it a shame for he, in that moment, realized he never learned his lizard friend's name.
Zayden growling stomach, though, quickly switched his mind to other things. It took within ten minutes of searching this new, alien city to find a food vendor in an open market plaza. For seven gold pieces Zayden was served a small wooden bowl of a messy mash of baked potatoes and sweet mudcrab meat, a heel of crusty bread, and a tall wooden flagon of weak beer. With his stomach full, he set back off into Balmora to complete his task: finding Caius Cosades.
Zayden double-checked his bag to confirm he still had the scroll from Seyda Neen. He at first thought to ask townspeople for Caius's location but quickly found that to be a losing task. Zayden was a newcomer to both this city and continent: and "outlander." Most people of Vvardenfell, particularly the native Dunmer, were naturally inclined to distrust outlanders, and it seemed like everyone could smell Zayden's outlander status instantly.
After an hour of trying, Zayden finally resorted to asking a city guard for help. They were easy to spot, clad head-to-toe in an armor set of "bonemold," armor made from bones that had been shaped and fused together with magic. When Zayden approached the first pair of guards he came across the two were just as distained by the sight of an outlander as the rest had been. Their attitude quickly changed, however, when Zayden showed them the Imperial scroll. They instantly recognized the wax seal and asked Zayden to follow them.
The guards took Zayden across one of the few clay bridges spanning the city-cutting river to the eastern residential half of Balmora. From there they climbed two sets of stairs up two levels and followed that street north to its end. Once there one of the guards pointed to a simple, single level house.
"The old man you're looking for lives there," the guard said. "Imperial decree or not, he long ago stopped actively serving the Empire. He spends most his days inside his house, keeping to himself and his moon sugar. I would not hold out for hope, but you have your orders, outlander." The last line was said with a mocking tone.
Regardless, Zayden thanked the two and as they left he approached the door and knocked three times. A minute gave back no response. Again he knocked only to receive nothing in return. Then, as the third try was made, the door suddenly swung open and an old man jumped through with a holler. "What! What is it!?"
The old Imperial appeared before Zayden with white hair in a friar's cut and wearing only a pair of dark brown pants: no shirt, no shoes. His skin was slightly pale from his indoor seclusion and furthermore was wrinkled with age. But beneath that was the surprisingly toned and muscular shape of a very fit man. "Well?!" barked the man again. He glared at Zayden with furrowed, bloodshot eyes.
Zayden stammered for a moment but quickly remembered the document. He retrieved it from his bag and presented it to the old man. "Caius Cosades?" Zayden began. "I have this document from the Census and Excise Building in Seyda Need. It comes from-" Before he could finish, Caius snatched the document from Zayden's hands, broke the seal, and began to read it. It took only moments for the anger to wash away and be replaced with new placid calm.
"I see, I see," he finally replied, tucking the scroll under his arm. "Very well then, come inside. Lock the door behind you."
The inside of Caius's one room house was lit by an oil lantern in each corner and heated in the center by a low fire in a metal stove, a tall stovepipe stretching up through the ceiling. Tucked in the farthest corner was a bed, chest, and a wide wardrobe. In the opposite corner was a pantry and some cabinets and covering all other wall space were simple red banner tapestries.
"Take a seat," Caius said, dragging two small wooden chairs into the middle of the room in front of the stove. "I'll make us some tea. Unless you would prefer something stronger? I have some Cyrodillic brandy I've been holding on to."
"Brandy sounds fine, thank you," Zayden called back. Zayden sat next to the stove as Cauis poured two short glasses with the brandy. As he waited Zayden became aware of a faint, burnt sweet smell in the air. He recalled one of the guards mentioning "moon sugar" but did not know what that was or if it was at all related.
Caius handed Zayden a glass and took a seat next to him. "You have come to the correct man, stranger," he said. "I am Caius Cosades. My relation to the Imperial Legion is that I work as a spymaster. A "Grand Spymaster" at that… Though I can see that title means nothing to you. Very well, I shall attempt to explain." Caius took a swift gulp of his brandy before continuing.
"Son, what do you know of the Blades?" he asked Zayden.
"Not a thing," Zayden replied, taking a gulp of his own drink. It went down surprisingly easy.
"The Blades act as honored informants and protectors of the Emperor's interests. We are magnitudes of greater individual significance than some sell-sword turned Imperial guard. We are the Emperor's eyes, ears, mouth and, if necessary, his dagger. And I am the highest ranking Blade in Morrowind, both Vvardenfell and the province proper."
A scoff slipped past Zayden's lips, believing the old man was senile and speaking nonsense. But an instant later, when Caius showed no changed of expression on his face, Zayden quickly realized he was in error. Before he could even apologize Caius continued.
"I know what you must be thinking. 'A man of such rank, living in simple squalor like this? Living such a lowly life?' I make no apologies for my appearance, nor my condition. I am what I am: an old soul with a moon sugar problem… But I AM who I say I am: grand spymaster and member of the Blades. Would it help if I said I act this way to fools the locals?"
"I believe you," said Zayden.
"No, you don't," Caius shot back. "I would not believe it either, were our positions switched…" Caius paused. "Which makes what I am about to tell you next all the more unbelievable… This document stated you have amnesia of your past, correct?" Zayden nodded. "And so you have no idea as to why you have been brought to this land? To me?" Again, Zayden nodded. Caius took another gulp, prompting Zayden to follow suit. "The sad, pathetic truth is, Zayden, that in all likelihood you have been brought here, to Vvardenfell, to die."
Zayden nearly dropped the glass from his hand. "Die?!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean 'die!?'"
"What do you know of the Nerevarine Prophecy, son?" Caius then asked. Zayden's blank expression said it all. "The people of Morrowind, the Dunmer, have a great hero in their history from the First Era: Hotator Indoril Neravar, Chimeri King. It had been prophesized for many hundreds of years that Indoril Nerevar would be reincarnated as the 'Nerevarine.'"
A long silence filled the room. "And…" said Zayden finally, "you believe that I-"
"I believe nothing!" Caius snapped. "And by the gods, though it be by decree of the Emperor himself you be brought to me, I do not think he believes you to be Nerevarine either! Do you know why?" Zayden shook his head. "Because you, son, are not the first to be brought before me bearing hints of prophecy. Nor the second. Or the tenth. Or twentieth…"
Caius looked into the flames of the wood stove with despair. "In truth, I have lost count over the decades how many young fools have been brought before me, all of them sent with the hopes that 'They will be the Nerevarine,' all of them to fail by one means or another. And I had to be the one, each and every time, to send them out into the world with grandiose predictions of the future, of what the future will hold for them… Only for all of them to fail…"
He looked down into his empty glass. "To bear the weight of all those souls is more than you can imagine, Zayden. It breaks a man's spirit, grinds it into dust, and destroys the will to go on… I am long in the years, son, though I am fit and agile for my age." He turned to Zayden. "It is all unfair to you, to put this all upon you so quickly and suddenly, I know. But I feel my years on Nirn are short. I mean not to take my own life, but sending one more poor unfortunate soul out into the world, his head filled with false dreams and ambition, only to have them shattered will be the death of me… The townsfolk of Balmora think I'm just a "sweet tooth" slowly killing himself with skooma, but no. Guilt has been killing me for much longer…"
Zayden looked on at the old man in stunned silence. It was now hard to believe that moments earlier he thought of Caius as nothing more than a lunatic. Maybe, perhaps, he still was, but no lunatic could tell such a heartbreaking tale. Zayden believed Caius and wondered what this would mean for himself.
Caius noticed Zayden's empty glass and took it from him. "I will not lie to anyone any longer," he stated, walking away to fill the glasses again. "I refuse to fill another head with prophecy. If you are indeed the Nerevarine, the prophecy will be fulfilled regardless of what I say! Instead, I have only one task for you, Zayden." Caius sat back down and gave Zayden back the glass. "I want you to live."
"Live?" Zayden repeated.
"Yes. Find your own path in this world. Have adventures. Make friends. Find a wife and have children, I don't care. But work toward a good future, and make that future your own. Do not pursue a future that others have created for you, or said is yours! Be your own master and your own destiny! The only thing I ask of you further is that if you succeed in this future you create that you come visit me from time to time to tell me of it. If I know I have lead at least one person on a prosperous path, I might be able to die with some semblance of peace… Can you promise me this, Zayden?"
Again Zayden was left stunned. "I think I can," he responded at length. "But this place, Vvardenfell, is alien to me. I do not know where I would begin."
A faint smile creeped over Caius's lips. "I may be able to give you that," he said. "You look to be a fit young man. Perhaps the Fighters Guild can put you on the right path. It would, at least, give you an income."
"Fighters Guild?" Zayden repeated. "I am no fighter. Do not let these weapons fool you; these were given to me by-"
"I am no fool!" said Caius. "Many have been brought before me with gifted arms, put into the hands of those that have never swung a woodcutter's axe! Though you claim to be no fighter, I sense otherwise. Besides, fighting is not all the Fighters Guild can offer!"
Over more brandy and some dried meats and buttered bread, Caius explained the operations of guilds in Tamriel, specifically in Vvardenfell. There existed three primary guilds in each of the seven provinces: the Fighters Guild, the Mages Guild, and the Thieves Guild, though the Empire would officially deny the last's existence. Each guild gave a primary function as hinted to by their name but also offered numerous secondary functions for whatever town, city, or community they operated in.
The Mages Guild, dealing primarily in the education of mages, sorcerers, and wizards in the teaching and proliferation of magic and magical teachings, also provided the necessary books and supplies for towns and cities to open schools. The Thieves Guild (all unofficially, of course) while providing an outlet to "productively" steal under a strictly enforced code of honor, acts secondarily as an underground network to prevent or stop other sorts of "unregulated crime" to happen and get out of control. The Fighters Guild, as it were, operated as an organization for more than mercenaries, bounty hunters, and swords-for-hire. Their secondary function was that of employing day laborers and working hands for things like construction and farming.
All of these guilds, whether in concert or independent of each other, hold a sizable holding over labor wherever they operate, effectively act as unionizing forces. Private enterprises can and do operate within guild territory, but competition against guild services have a strange tendency of disappearing or being absorbed over time. Caius seemed to speak with great distain as he explained these last sets of details.
"People claim the Empire and the Legion are tyrannical and stifling of competition with the East Empire Company branch. Bah! We would allow free markets and fairer competition under Imperial rule, but the elves of this province hate Imperials and their influence, reject it outright! Fools! They would reject a better system and be blind to the corruption their Great Houses allow right in front of their eyes, only because it was theirs and not foreign! The ignorance!" Zayden remained unsure whether to believe the old man's ramblings or not but nonetheless found them amusing.
Caius leaned back in his chair to take a long breath, realizing his glass was now empty for the third time. "I suppose I had better stop, both drinking and my rambling," he chuckled. "I think I have spoken long enough. The day is done and night has most likely already fallen. I will take no more of your time and send you off.
On the other side of the river, up four levels, you will find a shelter for the homeless. Keep your wits about you and an eye on your possessions and you will find it a decent place for one free night's rest. Those who run the place allow anyone that much. Any more than that and they will begin charging you coin. Do what you will before nightfall, but when that time comes, I would go there for rest. Come morning I will send correspondence back to Seyda Neen letting the Legion know we have made contact. This will keep the Legion off your back."
Zayden nodded in agreement. "I think I shall do as you suggest. Thank you Caius, for all you have told me. I do not know whether to take seriously this prophecy business, Emperor or not. But at the very least I have a clearer path forward. Thank you for this. I promise you that I will return and tell you how your guidance has helped me."
"I would appreciate that, Zayden," said Caius. "Your past maybe be shadowed in mystery but I believe your future path is clear. It will be up to you now to make it bright and to bring some of that light back to me."
"Take care, Caius Cosades," bid Zayden.
"Take care," Caius said back.
The two exchanged one last goodbye before Zayden left through the front door. By now the sky was black and full of stars and the air full of chirping insects. Zayden followed his path back across the Odai River to the market district which seemed more crowded than earlier that evening. Zayden made his way to the fourth level to seek out the aforementioned homeless shelter. It was near the northern outskirts of Balmora but was not at all hard to find. The increasing amount of travelers and transients that seemed to clutter the street gave its position away. Getting into the facility- an open air courtyard- was also not at all difficult. Finding a space to lie down, however, proved slightly different.
The area was full of many people huddled in groups on the ground, there being no tables or chairs to speak of. It left very little space to walk and navigate. Despite this Zayden managed to step and balance his way toward the very back where there was enough space to sit with his back against the wall. He clutched his bag securely in his lap and arms, remembering Caius's warning. He took a moment to observe the people around him, wondering of anyone was brought to Vvardenfell like him, like the others on that prison ship. He pondered this for only a moment before his exhausted body plunged him to sleep.