Jul

Lucius

Dorthe, the Captain, and I were digging through the dense remains of the undead creatures that we had confronted earlier, the stench of ancient Death surrounding us and drifting on the winds. We were searching for some clue as to the origins of the creatures who had so often been attacking Raven Rock. "Do you mind me asking what these things are?" Dorthe inquired, eager to break the growing silence. I shot her a look, but otherwise remained silent. I had to admit that the question had been on my mind as well.

"Ash Spawn, Sera," Captain Veleth responded, taking a break from sifting through his pile of ash and frowning. "They've been attacking the settlement for years, just an assault of one or two when they wandered too close to the gates. Now they lay traps and wait for the few of our scouting parties left." Veleth sighed and continued rifling through the ash, his mind on whatever had taken over his home.

After a few moments, I found something in the Ash Spawn's leftovers. It was a small sheet of paper, about four inches across and three inches tall. It was blank, so I ran my hand along the edges of the paper and found a crease at the bottom. I flipped it open, then turned it right side up and gave the message on it a cursory glance. "Well, this is interesting," I muttered quietly. It was a series of demands from one General Falx Carius who claimed to be in service of the Empire. Fortunately for me, Falx Carius could not count himself among my generals. My first thought was that this was some sort of trick that Thera was trying to use to hurt my chances with the Dunmer, but that didn't make any sense. She was cunning, but that kind of thing wasn't her style. I looked up at Veleth and motioned with the note. "A liar is sending the Ash Spawn to kill you from Fort Frostmoth."

Veleth walked over, wiping his hands against his armor, and took the note. He read through it and cursed in his ancestor's language. "Falx Carius? That's impossible," the Dunmer whispered in disbelief. He shook his head and folded the note, regarding Dorthe and me with a calculating eye. He scoffed. "This man served the ancestor of your Empire at the end of the Third Era. He's been dead since the eruption of the Red Mountain, and this fort has been empty since that same time."

"So what do you wish for us to do? We are at the service of our Emperor, and he is at yours," I said, letting my head dip slightly. Dorthe barely held in a noise that would have erupted as a scoff, so I turned to her and smiled disapprovingly. "Bless you."

"Too much ash," Dorthe muttered apologetically.

Veleth glared at her for a moment before shrugging. "Well, ideally I would lead my men to Fort Frostmoth to find this man claiming to be Falx Carius and kill him. I don't know if the First Councilor told you, Sera, but something is on this island. It's controlling our people, more every night," Veleth explained, his voice for the first time dipping into fear. He shook his head and gestured powerlessly. "We dream the same thing every evening. Miraak."

Dorthe and I looked between one another. "That is who our Emperor sent us here to find. If he is attacking your people, you should know he is our enemy as well as yours," I told the Dunmer warrior. He fiddled uncomfortably with the ax strapped across his back and frowned – he thought we would betray his trust and ignore the Ash Spawn threat should we learn where to find Miraak. I shook my head to calm his nerves. "We will deal with Falx first, I swear it upon the blood of Talos Himself, but tell us what you know. The faster we defeat this Miraak, the faster your men will be able to defend your home against anything else that may attack."

Veleth considered me and my words for a while, mulling over what I had said over in his head. Eventually, he allowed his head to cock slightly to the side. "And you swear you'll deal with these Ash Spawn first?" he inquired.

"Yes," Dorthe interjected before I could answer. I looked over my shoulder at her for a moment. She should not have spoken for me, though I knew precisely why she had. After a half moment, I turned back and nodded at the Dunmer captain nonetheless.

Veleth sighed in relief, the stress rolling from his shoulders visibly. "Thank you," he breathed desperately before he looked up at me and smiled. "Thank you, Sera. So... There's a temple, towards the center of the island. I believe it belongs to Miraak or it is at least is older than the Empire. Fort Frostmoth is not far south east of here, perhaps a half day's journey. Head directly north from there for a day's journey and you'll find the temple."

I nodded in thanks and bowed to the Dunmer. "You have my thanks, Sera." I turned to Dorthe and placed my hand on the hilt of my blade. "We should hurry, before these creatures attack Raven Rock again." I gave a nod of goodbye to the captain, who thanked me again, and walked off with Dorthe at my side.

The two of us walked in silence for some time, with only the sound of the ashen wind to accompany our thoughts. Her thoughts were practically louder than the wind, however, and I nearly found myself laughing at them. "Do you really think that I would betray Veleth's trust so easily?" I asked her when we were far enough from the Dunmer that we would not be heard.

She took a measured moment before responding. "You've done so before," she responded simply. I glanced over at her; she was staring straight ahead so she could avoid my eyes. "Since... that day, you've become less and less honorable, Your Grace. Talos does not hold the same weight for you that he once did.."

She was right, of course. I believed in the gods existence still, of course, but I did not believe in the gods themselves. My life had been a series of terrible events and death. They did not deserve my respect if such was their reward for my diligence. "I am here to curry favor with Morrowind just as much as to defeat Miraak. If the First Councilor is dead before I am able to defeat Miraak, there will have been no point in disguising myself here." I stopped moving and turned to the young woman. "Besides, my oath here is your oath, and the gods still matter to you. I would never make you an Oathbreaker, Dorthe." I smiled dryly. "Hadvar would kill me if I tarnished your honor like that."

Dorthe scowled and punched my shoulder with enough force to cause me to stumble to the side, a real smile on my face again. "Treason!" I mocked, earning only another blow from the young woman. I couldn't help but burst our laughing as she continued her assault. "I yield, I yield!"

Fahiil

Thera

"I'm sorry, you want me to what?" I growled at the Telvanni wizard as we stood within his oversized fungus of a home. There were far too much magickal tools assembled throughout the living space and lab for my liking, and I felt like the Mer was just as likely to dissect and study the effects of Vampirism on Aedric magick as he was to help me find Miraak. "You're asking suicide."

"I am asking to see something no one else in the world could claim to see," Neloth countered dryly, his voice a slight whine. He held the black book up in his hands and narrowed his eyes on me, preparing a threat. "Unless, of course, you would rather not find the being that you came here to kill, the one who means to kill you."

I thought briefly about beheading him and forcing his nervous and – in his own words – 'worthless' apprentice to give me what I desired. If he wasn't lying, though, Neloth hadn't really taught his apprentice anything of value and I'd be worse off without the wizard himself. "You want a being blessed by the Aedra, turned into a Vampire by the will and blood of Molag Bal himself, and the one who will usurp Akatosh himself to possibly peer into Hermaeus Mora's realm of Oblivion." After a moment of enduring the wizard's condescending sneer, I added, "For fun. Truly, you outshine the rumors of the legendary cruelty that abounds in House Telvanni."

"Flattery won't get you out of this," Neloth noted, shoving the book into my arms.

"Remind me to offer you a position in my Empire if I survive," I muttered before placing the book flat on its back cover in my right hand. I gave in and took a deep breath. "Just open it to any page and begin reading?"

"Yes. And, if you die, please explain in detail the pain that you endure. This may be a once in an Era opportunity for study." With that, he grabbed a notebook and magickal writing utensil, and stared intently at me.

"If I die, I'll kill you and drag you with me," I responded. I looped m fingers beneath the front cover of the Black Book of Hermaeus Mora. "If I survive, maybe I'll let you examine the Ogmha Infinium." Then I opened the book and took great pleasure in the stunned, hungry, and terrified look of the Telvanni wizard before black tentacles wrapped themselves around my throat and everything went black.

When I awoke, things were not much brighter. Even I, a creature of the night, had difficulty perceiving the shapes and reality around me. The sky was a toxic green that gave off a dull and sickly light, somehow making things darker than they would be without the illumination. I looked down and saw that the ground was more disgusting. A black, web like material stretched out beneath my feet and separated me from an ocean of ink-like Daedra that swirled and reached out for me, for my blood. "Well, I should have known," I growled sardonically, taking in the disgusting sights of the Plane of Oblivion.

A familiar shriek sounded from above, and I scoffed. It seemed that even in Oblivion I was unable to escape the constant hounding of dragons. I looked up in time to see a huge shadow roll across the sky, leathery wings flapping with enough force to send men flying or propel a giant dragon through the skies. "And who do we have here, Sahrotaar? A mortal braving one of the Apocryphan books?" a deep and manly voice asked as the Dragon slowly circled over head to land on the other edge of the platform. The Dragon was unique, vastly different from any of the others I had killed in my time. It was completely smooth, with blue, scale-less skin and a hideously toothy under bite. Most intriguing, however, was that it had someone on its back – the person speaking. "Well, it looks as if at least one of my summons was received. A baby Dragonborn..."

"You must be Miraak," I responded snidely, examining the figure. He wore a Dragon Priest mask, one of a glimmering golden metal. It had tentacles snaking out from the mouth and formed dragon horns at the top of the helm directly above the black, slit eye holes. His armor had some sort of hard, organic material jutting out from the shoulders, and the rest was hidden beneath brown yet ornate robes. He was human, I could smell it in every movement of his blood. "Watch your tongue, Human, for you speak to the slayer of Alduin."

Miraak's head cocked to the side. "Indeed?" he inquired, baritone mocking. "No, I think that would be the other one. She do not reek of the Dragon-King, does she, Sahrotaar?"

The dragon hissed. "No, Thuri," the dragon responded, eyes full of hatred as it responded and was forced to bow its head to Miraak. "She is no true Dovahkiin."

"Still, she has slain a great many dragons, I see," Miraak continued, his gaze returning to me. He laughed and shook his head. "And yet... Ah, I see you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield. Mul... Qah Div!" Light like the Souls of Dragons flew into the air at the sound of his Voice, wrapping around his form and slowly solidifying. Soon, he was covered by armor in the shape of a Dragon, roaring faces glowing around his chest and hands, his eyes glowing with the fire of a true born Dragon's. I took a half step back as he raised his hands, the jaws of the dragons opening with them, and two black portals appeared before him.

Two creatures appeared from them, both eldritch horrors with spindly, corpse like arms beneath their octopus visages. The mouth was a toothy maw at the center of its chest. Shoddy robes draped from the floating creature's body and appeared more like its flesh than its clothing. Daedra. I drew my blades and readied for battle. "I came here to kill the one who wanted to destroy me. Face me, coward!"

"This realm is beyond you, child," Miraak explained, turning away and walking towards the serpentine dragon. "You have no power here, and it is only a matter time until Nirn belongs to me as well. I control the minds of Solstheim, and soon my temple will be complete. I will return to take what is mine. Return where you came, and await the arrival of your god with the rest of Tamriel."

The Daedra hissed and floated slowly towards me, swaying dangerously and raising their arms. The air began to glow with Magicka, the fabric of the Plane shimmering under the will of the monsters. Energy erupted from their chests, waves and waves of destruction crashing into my body and forcing me to my knees. The air dimmed even further, and Miraak laughed over the beating of his dragon's wings. "If you find me again, it will be your Doom."

And then I fell unconscious and everything went truly black, though the screams of the creatures continued to ring in my ears.

The screaming continued even when I woke up, the open pages of the Black Book hugged tight to my chest and blood streaming from where my head had slammed into the floor. Neloth was standing above me, still scribbling like a madman in his notebook. "Well, what do you know? You didn't die," he muttered, his voice matter-of-fact in tone. He scribbled something else in his notes. "That was unexpected."

I glowered at the wizard for a moment before forcing myself to my feet. "Miraak was there."

Neloth looked up from his notebook again, this time slamming it shut with one hand. "Miraak? The dead man Miraak? Well, I suppose if he has been trapped in Apocrypha for all these thousands of years there is a chance that he has survived due to the dilation of time that exists in planes of Oblivion," the wizard posited to himself. "Is there anything else that he said?"

"Where is his temple?" I asked angrily. The wizard just raised an eyebrow in response. I moved threateningly towards him, drawing one of my blades and holding it at his throat. "I have come a very long way to kill someone. I'd rather it be the one I came to kill, but I am not the kind to have qualms about it being anyone else bathing by blade."

Neloth smirked and nodded. "Fine. But I will call on you for a favor." He pushed the blade away from his throat and laughed. "Eventually."

"We already -"

"I do not remember making a deal," Neloth said, a grin spreading across his face. He shrugged. "I'll even throw in use of my knowledge. Whatever questions you pose will likely bring new knowledge to me. A fair trade, yes?"

I had forgotten how much I hate Dunmer.

Jul

Lucius

I knocked down the door into the innermost sanctum of Fort Frostmoth with a single utterance of my Thu'um, sending the wood and its hinges flying away. I stood in the dust swirled door frame, magickal ice swirling around my left hand and Dragonbane casting sparks in every direction. Say what you will about me, but I do make excellent entrances. Dorthe however, not so much. Her training as a Blade had ingrained in her an almost preternatural desire to enter rooms unnoticed and strike only when necessary. Prudent, but altogether boring.

The Ash Spawn were on me before the smoke cleared, their club-like hands and flaming skin approaching to destroy me. I paid them little mind, though. They were beneath me, on the whole. A simple wave of my hand caused streams of Frost to freeze two solid for Dorthe to shatter even as I bisected the third with Dragonbane. It shrieked, an unearthly rasp, and the magickal bonds holding it together were severed. I froze the Ash pooling on the ground to prevent any possibility of being suddenly stabbed in the back by one of the creatures.

In the center of the room was standing a man dressed in old, broken armor of the Old Empire. The Imperial Maroon was faded from ash and age, more black than red by this point. The gold had become almost silver and the steel plate on his arms and feet was rusted. His chest had a huge, gaping hole which revealed a meteor like stone encased where his heart should have been. "Ouch," Dorthe muttered upon seeing the gaping wound.

"Are you General Falx Carius?" I asked, frozen palm outstretched towards the man.

"I am General of the Empire Falx Carius. Why are you attacking, Imperial?" the long dead Man snapped, drawing from his back one of the largest hammers I had ever seen until that point. He held it low and out to the side. One look at his eyes and it was clear that he really wanted to use the cudgel. "Such is a crime against the Great Empire of Tiber Septim and his Imperial Majesty Uriel Septim IV."

"Uriel Septim died some two hundred years ago," I explained bluntly. The man didn't seem to believe me. "And his Empire died five years ago. The war with the High Elves crippled it beyond repair." He continued to ignore me. "In the name of Emperor Lucius Ashcroft Atmoran, first of his name, Protector of Tamriel, Blood of the Dragon, Alduinbane, Ysmir, Rightful Emperor of Men, Mer, and Beastfolk, Knight of Auri-El, and the Last Dragonborn... I order you to surrender." I hoped that the whole official title thing would ensure that this long dead man, who was obviously still consumed by duty, would listen to my orders. I even added in the brand new ones that the Graybeards had conferred upon me when they had learned what Thera's plans were. The old men begged my forgiveness a dozen times over before the ceremony.

I saw Dorthe begin to position herself behind Falx in case he didn't stand down. "The Empire needs warriors to fight in the new war with them. Your command over these... creatures -"

"They are not monsters!" Falx snapped, eyes glowing red. That was... worrisome. "These are my men. They have stood guard with me for centuries against intruders and liars like you! I will destroy any traitors who would ally with the Dark Elves stealing the Empire's land! I will kill all of y-" He was cut off when a katana shattered the stone in the cavity on his chest. The light within the meteor hissed and bubbled for a moment as the magick within it died out. A moment later, he fell to the ground, dead.

"He was going to attack you," Dorthe explained in her defense before sheathing her blade.

"I know." I glanced down at the body and frowned sadly; this was a man who was so loyal that he had stood guard alone for over twenty decades. If he had not been driven insane by his isolation... I sheathed Dragonbane and walked over to the corpse, pocketing the fragments of the stone that had kept him alive. Even lost as he was, Carius deserved the words for the man he had once been. I tried to say them, but I just could not find the will to do it.

Dorthe did it for me when it became abundantly clear that I could not: "Talos guide you, General Falx Carius." I stood up and glanced over at Dorthe, deciding I would eventually send someone for the man's bones. That was the least I could do for him. "We have a long ways to go, Your Grace. We best start walking now." I allowed myself a moment alone with my thoughts, then walked with her towards the back entrance.

When we were both outside of the Fort, I turned and grabbed her shoulder. "We part ways for now, Dorthe," I said.

"Excuse me?" she asked, getting ready to draw her blade. "No. I'm already likely dangerously close to being tried for treason by Delphine -"

"Charges I will inevitably drop," I countered, though it did little to dissuade her from arguing the point.

"- and you expect me to just let you go gallivanting off by yourself?" Dorthe laughed dryly and grabbed the collar of my coat, pulling my face down to her level. "I will snap your knees and drag you back to Cyrodiil before that happens."

"You sound more and more like Delphine every day. That's not quite the compliment you would expect," I said, brushing her hands off and chuckling. "And if you could keep me from doing things, we wouldn't be here on this ash covered wasteland, now would we?" She just glowered at me instead of responding, the look in her eyes capable of shattering the Eye of Magnus itself if given enough time.

I sighed and rested my left hand on my saber's hilt. "Veleth deserves to know that Falx is dead," I told her, gazing off towards Raven Rock somberly. "He'll be able to put more men on the walls... and I hate to admit it, but I would rather not leave him worrying about an attack from out here when there is likely other threats they should deal with. First Councilors make as many enemies as friends, and the Morag Tong have only grown stronger since the Dark Brotherhood was absorbed into the Dominion."

"My duty is to stay with you," Dorthe retorted.

"Your duty is to protect the interests of the Empire. Ensuring that we have a way off this island and back home is the best way to do that," I countered authoritatively. "Morvayn is important, to the Empire... and to me. Do this for me."

"Come with me." Dorthe frowned and gestured toward the settlement. She said, "I won't let you out of my sight, Emperor. Not for that long."

I sighed and considered my options. Then the solution presented itself. I raised my left hand and summoned a stream of magicka to my open palm. The air pulsed and appeared black as the night sky for a moment, stopping when it revealed a figure I had come to really appreciate over the past years. The creature was a horse, one made up of deep purple flames and bones. "Good boy, Arvak," I said, happily scratching the creature's chin as it cantered over to me and nuzzled against my shoulder. I raised his gaze to mine and smiled. "Can you take Dorthe to Raven Rock for me? She needs the fastest horse in any plane." The horse neighed excitedly and trotted towards the young woman. "Is this good enough, Dorthe? Arvak can get you to Veleth quickly, and maybe even get you to the Temple before me if you're lucky. And, if you're not, I'll be able to get into a fight without you cutting it off early."

"I'm stuck with you. How lucky could I be?" Dorthe asked dryly. She grabbed the fiery reins of the horse nonetheless, and pushed herself up to his back. "If you try any of those stupid plans going through your head right now, I'll cut your legs off." She stared at me, hoping I would get the message, then pulled on the ethereal horse's reins and they galloped off.

I let her go for a few minutes, waiting until I was sure she wouldn't hear. "Time for a stupid plan. Durnehviir," I shouted, though the noise was barely louder than a whisper. The air trembled for a moment and the mostly dead dragon appeared beside me in a whirlwind of purple magick.

"Drem yol lok. Greetings, Lucius, it has been too long," the dragon said, bowing his head deferentially. He sniffed the air and a hiss erupted from his throat. "I thank you for bringing me wah vus – to Nirn – but this place is... dur naal vulom. Greatly cursed."

"I think I'm starting to get that," I muttered, glancing at the ground.

"Miraak killed many of my brethren here. It is no place for Dov."

I looked up at the dragon. "Wait. What? You know Miraak?"

"As much as any Dov. He is like you, kiir do Bormahu. A child of Akatosh," Durnehviir explained, shifting his weight anxiously from wing to wing, terrified even though his Soul could no longer be taken. "Though more akin to the Vampire than to you. Why?"

"He sent people to kill me," I explained. I looked over and bit my cheek for a moment and mulled over what he had said. "Now that I know what this is about, I feel worse for asking you this favor."

"No. Ask, Thu'ri," the dragon commanded with a smile. "Please, my friend."

"I need to go to his Temple, a few miles north of here," I explained. I bowed my head slightly to my friend. "Please, take me there."

Durnehviir nodded and lowered his head to the ground. "I would gladly take to the skies with you, Thu'ri. It is not often that I get a chance to bo voth zeymah. Let us soar – quickly, before your shadow returns from where you sent her."

"You know too much for your own good," I told the dragon as I pushed myself up to sit atop his neck, gripping the spines that seemed to solidify as I neared them.

The dragon laughed, the sudden movement nearly throwing me off. "That is as good an explanation of my fall as any, Dovahkiin." Then his wings began to beat, and we took to Kynareth's domain. Then the dragon did something that made me regret summoning him around a few bards. "Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red who went -"

"Oh, by the Nine!"