Chapter 11:
Hermaeus Mora and the Beginning of the End
"Well, well, Dovahkiin," said the void, "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." Its voice was slow and thick, pooling around them like oil.
"I have been watching you," continued the void and a large eye swelled up, green and bulbous, focusing intently on Emily mere inches from her face. She instinctively recoiled from it. "With great interest," it said.
"Wh-who are you?" Emily managed to stammer out.
"I," said the pulsating mass grandly, "Am Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of Knowledge and Fate, the guardian of the Unseen and the Knower of the Unknown."
"And what do you want with us?" Serana spoke up. The eyes swivelled to her as though taking notice of her for the first time.
"Ahhh, one of Molag's children," his voice bubbled and oozed, "What interesting company you keep, Dovahkiin."
"Why do you call me that?" Emily asked.
"You will know in time," Hermaeus Mora answered, "But now, now for the reason I am here. I have come with a message." Emily waited as Hermaeus Mora continued. "My follower's children are searching for you as the Hare of First Seed watches. It won't be long before they find you."
"Who are your follower's children?" asked Serana, "And more to the point, who is your follower?"
"Even you would not know him, daughter of Coldharbour," said Hermaeus Mora, "He was before your time." He paused, "Time, the unwavering line, it was broken over a thousand years ago and the end was brought forward. You will meet with the end soon, Emily. It is destiny."
"What are you talking about?" Emily asked, "And what's the Hare of First Seed?" Every hair stood on end at Hermaeus Mora's words and her hands trembled.
"All in good time," he burbled, "All in good time." And as he spoke the tentacles receded and the eyes shrank. The black mist faded and before them the way stood clear. Emily felt a cold wind blowing down the tunnel but this didn't match the cold she felt growing in her chest.
"What did he mean, 'I'll meet with the end soon?'" she asked shakily. Serana wasn't sure how to respond. Instead she put her arm around Emily.
"We'd better go home," she said.
"But what if the end is out there?" Emily asked, pointing towards the entrance.
"We can't stay in here," Serana replied, "And I don't think Septimus would be the best living companion, do you?" This last remark won a smile from Emily, however small and she leaned against Serana's shoulder.
"You're right," she said. She felt Serana's fingers squeeze her shoulder.
"And whatever Hermaeus Mora is talking about," Serana continued, "I won't let it touch you." Emily smiled.
"Alright," she said, "Let's go home."
Another five weeks saw them back in their forest home and in those five weeks Hermaeus Mora's words seldom left Emily's mind.
"I'm going to go mad," said Emily as she sat at her desk by the window. The moonlight was slanting across the polished wooden surface and over the pestle and mortar where she was busily crushing the bones of a wolf. It was meant to be ground into rough grains but by now it was little more than a fine powder and she finally set aside the pestle. Serana, who was lying on the bed, reading a book, got up and crossed over to the desk.
"How about we go out tonight?" she asked, "Get out of the house for a bit. You haven't set foot outside since we got home."
"I don't know, Sera," Emily sighed, "I thought it might be safer inside." Serana sat down next to her, giving her a stern look.
"Em, we're vampires," she said, "We've got eternity ahead of us, remember? You can't spend all of that in here."
"I know," said Emily, taking her hand, "I know, you're right." She got up. "So, where will we go?"
"How about a few drinks down in Helgen?" Serana suggested. Emily smiled.
"Alright," she said.
They'd been down to Helgen a few times over the months they'd spent building the house. They were often joined by Mogrul and Sorine and the four of them frequented a little tavern known as the Helgen Homestead. It was run by man and his wife along with their young son, a child of eleven, who often helped out with the orders coming from the kitchen. Helgen was a small town under Imperial control set close to the Skyrim-Cyrodiil boarder. Unusual for a town of its size, it possessed a large stone keep and was surrounded by high walls and turrets.
Emily and Serana fetched Arvak from the dell close to the house where they let him graze and rode out from the house, following the path down towards the road. Serana held the reigns and Emily rode behind. Now that she was out in the quiet night air she saw that Serana truly had been right. The moons were just rising over the mountains, Masser waxing and Secunda waning. They reached the road which ran alongside the Illinalta and followed it eastward. The only sounds that reached them were the sounds of Arvak's hooves clattering on the cobblestones and his snorting breath as he cantered along.
They left the lake and followed the road up the hill. In the distance they could see the fires blazing atop the towering turrets of Helgen and the lights on in the windows of the Keep. They left Arvak in a clearing close to the town and went the rest of the way on foot. The guards at the gate let them in after a few short questions and the heavy wooden gates swung closed behind them. They walked up the cobblestone road that took them into the centre of town. The Inn was located next to one of the numerous guard turrets, nestled up against the North wall. It was one of the few two storey buildings in the district with stone walls and thatched roof like many Nordic structures. Lights were on in the windows and the sounds of merry singing drifted out from the open doorway.
They stepped over the threshold and took a seat at a table near the back. A bard stood by the fire, strumming a tune on his lute while three Nords in Imperial livery sung a bawdy song, slopping beer over their laps with each round.
"So, what do you want?" Serana asked, "I'll pay this time."
"Aw c'mon," smiled Emily, "You paid last time. I'll get this one." She made to get up but Serana gently pushed her back down, smiling all the while. They fought playfully for a moment longer before Emily sat back with a smile. "Alright, honningbrew then," she said. Serana got up from the table and went over to the bar where she dropped several coins into the waiting hand of the bartender. A few minutes later she returned to the table, carrying two full tankards of golden brown mead.
"I might've let you win this time," said Emily as she took a draft from her tankard, "But I'll get the next round."
"Hmm, alright," Serana replied after pretending to be deep in thought for a moment, "How about a Stros M'Kai rum?"
"As the lady requests, so it shall be done," grinned Emily, forgetting Hermaeus Mora's words for the first time in well over a month.
Emily downed the last of her mead and got up from the table, making her way over to the bar. She stopped as she picked up on a sound from outside. It was the sound of horse's hooves clattering on the cobblestones. This in itself was not unusual. Travellers often came to town on horseback, leaving them in the care of the stablehands over on the western side of town. What was unusual was that this horse had evidently entered the town at a full gallop. As she listened the sound of the horse's hooves stopped abruptly and the next second the doors burst open. Standing in the doorway, framed by his cloak which flapped wildly behind him, was an Imperial soldier.
"They've done it," he yelled, drawing the attention of most in the bar. Serana looked up from her empty tankard. "They've actually done it. They've got him."
"Got who?" asked one of the three men who had stopped their singing.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, they've caught him," the man cried jubilantly, grinning behind his curly black beard, "They're bringing him in now." At these words the sound of chairs scraping against the wooden floors filled the room as everyone got to their feet and moved as one towards the door. The man with the dark curly beard had disappeared back into the night and they all followed. Serana and Emily joined the thronging crowd as they spilled out into the street. Several were holding torches aloft and they lined up along the veranda, leaning on the wooden rails. They had not long to wait as a cart drawn by sleek Imperial chargers trotted in through the Northern gates. This was followed by another and a man with greying hair sitting astride a chestnut coloured stallion and a woman with sharply pointed features sitting astride a second horse brought up the rear. The young boy from the Inn pushed his way past the onlookers to stare at the soldiers.
"Who are they, daddy?" he asked, tugging at his father's sleeve. The Innkeeper, who had been watching the scene unfold, turned to his son.
"You need to go inside, little cub," he said, pushing him towards the door.
"But why?" the boy protested, "I want to watch the soldiers."
"Inside the house, now," his father ordered." The young boy groaned but allowed his mother to usher him back indoors, closing the door behind her.
"Fetch the headsman," said the grey haired man astride the horse, "We haven't got all night."
The onlookers watched as the two carts came to a halt against the central wall that divided the two halves of the town. One by one the men and women on the carts were hauled off and made to stand in two rows before a man with red hair and a woman wearing a plumed steel helm. Among them was a man who towered above the others. He wore a steel breastplate over dark robes and a fur cloak billowed behind him. He had blonde hair and a rough piece of fabric had been tied tightly across his mouth, muzzling him so that he could do no more than grunt at his captors. Emily leant on the rails alongside the others. This was the same man she had seen briefly as he galloped through the streets of Solitude after murdering the High King.
"Alright, prisoners, stand up to the block when we call your name," yelled the woman, "One at a time."
The red haired man held a clipboard and one by the prisoners were called forward.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," said the man. He spoke solemnly, as though this were but his duty and not his pleasure as it was with the woman gave when she barked out her orders.
"It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric," said another of the prisoners.
"Ralof of Riverwood," the man continued and the prisoner who had spoken stepped into line. And then, when all names had been called, the grey haired man strode forwards until he stood before Ulfric Stormcloak. He was a good head shorter than him but he spoke with a confidence that made up for what he lacked in height.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen would call you a hero" he said, "But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne." Ulfric tried to reply but the fabric drawn tight across his mouth made it impossible, rendering his words as nothing more than muffled grunts and growls that Emily had no doubt were an angry rebuke aimed at his captor. She caught sight of a white haired old man standing close by leaning on his cane. He was watching the unfolding scene with great interest, his lip curled in a strange smile. But when Emily turned to look at him again a moment later he had vanished.
"You started this war," the general went on, "Plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." As his words faded into silence a strange noise echoed up from the mountains. Emily and Serana turned sharply to look at the mountains that towered over the east side of Helgen but aside from the stars glimmering in the night sky and the moons hanging overhead they could see nothing.
"What was that?" asked the red haired man, voicing their thoughts.
"It's nothing," said the general, "Carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius," said the Imperial captain, turning toward a priestess who stood before the prisoners, "Give them their last rites."
The priestess, a woman garbed in the orange robes and yellow hood of the order of Arkay stepped forward. A set of beads hung from the rope tied about her waist and hanging from these beads was a sphere framed by two interlocked squares: the symbol of Arkay. She raised her arms above her head as she began.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you," she began but another of the prisoners cut in, taking a step towards her.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," he said venomously as he strode purposefully towards the headsman's block.
"As you wish," the priestess said somewhat tersely.
"Come on," the prisoner demanded, "I haven't got all morning." The Imperial captain strode over to him and pushed him down onto his knees. She then put her boot on his back, forcing him forwards onto the block. He looked up at General Tullius and the giant of a man wielding the axe.
"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials," he said defiantly, "Can you say the same?" His question went unanswered as the headsman raised his axe over his head. Emily looked away sharply as it came down and she heard the sickening squelch and thud as the prisoner's head dropped into the basket and his lifeless body rolled to one side.
"You Imperial bastards," yelled one of the prisoners, a woman. This was answered by a cry of justice from one of the crowd standing behind Emily. Her knuckles were white as they gripped the railing and Serana took her hand, leading her to the edge of the veranda and the steps.
"Next prisoner," said the Imperial captain, "You, step forward." As the next of the prisoners made to step forward the same noise, closer this time, echoed again from the mountains. He faltered, looking up over the keep. Emily and Serana paused in their retreat.
"Wait, there it is again," said the red haired legionnaire, "Did you hear that?" But the Imperial captain just glared at him impatiently.
"I said, next prisoner," she spat.
"Alright, prisoner," said the man, "To the block, nice and easy." While Emily watched as the prisoner stepped over to the block, Serana scanned the mountains.
"Something's out there," she said quietly, drawing the attention of Emily and those standing closest to them. One or two followed her gazed while the others continued to watch the grisly spectacle. The headsman began to raise his axe as the prisoner stretched out his neck across the box but he never got the chance to bring it down upon him for a roar rent the air and a shadowy shape flew up from behind the mountains. All heads turned to the sky.
"What in Oblivion is that?" the general yelled. At the sight of the beast all those standing on the veranda scrambled for the steps and Serana and Emily found themselves carried along with them. They reached the street as the shadowy shape wheeled overhead, great leathery wings blocking out the light of Masser. And then it dropped from the sky onto the tower above the square where the execution was taking place. A rumble shook the earth beneath their feet and they staggered back.
"It can't be," said Serana, wide eyed as they stared up at the beast who cast its red eyes on the people standing below. For a moment it regarded them. One of the prisoners opened her mouth to shout but the dragon opened its mouth and her words were drowned out by its roar.
Suddenly clouds obscured the once clear skies and fire rained down from the heavens. At once the town dissolved into chaos with people scrambling away from the balls of flame hurtling down from the heavens. Emily could see the fire reflected in Serana's eyes as she gazed transfixed. Then she seemed to snap herself from the spell of stupefaction and she grabbed Emily's hand, sprinting off down the streets. Emily heard the legionnaires barking out orders and the shouts of men and women as they called to one another. Then she heard another sound, the creaking and groaning of wood. She looked up in time to see a burning wooden beam crashing down towards them as if in slow motion. She pulled Serana back and the wooden beam crashed down, sending up clouds of fiery motes. They staggered back from the wreckage and Emily pulled Serana towards the door to one of the houses. It was already partially destroyed, its thatched roof having gone up like tinder and one of its walls had been blown in. They crashed in through the door, hurrying over broken furniture and fallen stones towards the wrecked wall.
They emerged on the far side to find themselves back in the streets on the other side of the fallen beam.
"Which way should we go?" Emily shouted over the din. The dragon had flown up from the keep and was now attacking the North tower.
"The Keep," Serana shouted back. The dragon broke from the tower and wheeled overhead, raining down fire upon the hapless citizens. Emily spotted the red haired man running towards the east end of the city, followed by one of the prisoners, a blonde haired man in blue livery. They ran after them, dodging past panicked citizens and legionnaires alike. One of the captains was ordering his men to fire arrows at the beast but for all the good it was doing they might as well have been throwing sticks at it.
"Haming, get over here," yelled the red haired man. He was shouting at the boy Emily and Serana had seen at the Inn. He was kneeling over a fallen form and when he did not move the red haired man dashed forwards, pulling him from the still form. Emily and Serana watched as the dragon dropped from the sky, landing before the fallen form. It opened its maw and they scrambled back as flames hotter than the pits of Oblivion spewed forth.
"No, papa, no!" screamed the boy. He was trying to fight his way out of the legionnaire's grasp. The legionnaire steered him over to an old man who was crouched behind the wreckage of another building.
"Gunnar, take care of the boy," he yelled, thrusting the boy into the old man's arms, "I've got to find General Tullius and join the defence."
"Gods guide you, Hadvar," said the old man as the red haired man ran off into the chaos. Serana grabbed Emily's hand and they were off again, dodging fallen timbers and piles of ruined and burning thatching and rubble. The heat in the air was unbearable, the air dry and it stung their eyes and caught in their throats. Emily coughed on the acrid smoke and Serana had tied her cloak firmly over her nose and mouth. They hurtled around the stone wall, passing under the archway and at last the Keep came into view. They heard a roar behind them and looked back in time to see the dragon rearing up, red eyes fixed upon them. It opened its maw and a gout of flame gushed forth as they pulled open the door to the Keep. They slammed the door shut behind them and the force of the flame striking the door sent them sprawling to the ground as the room was plunged into darkness.