A deafening silence filled the room for a tense second as both sides sized each other up, waiting for the other to initiate. The dragon priest made no move, eyeing the two intruders curiously from beneath his ebony mask. The anticipation was smothering. Saya's knuckles whitened under her gauntlets when the priest finally moved - even though the motion was but a bemused head tilt.
"I cannot hear you," he said. Saya and Serana both blinked. Whatever they expected him to sound like, their expectations were wholly averted. Though bearing a very thick Nordic accent, he sounded just like any other living person. It was almost more unsettling than any other voice they could've imagined. "You have broken the seals. We call to you, but your mind is silent. How have you done this?"
Serana shot a nervous glance towards Saya, who was all but shaking in her boots. The words of the priest echoed in her ears. There was a look of nervous recognition in Saya's eyes, a fear that Serana recognized on an instinctual level. She knew in that moment that Saya had seen something - or someone - like him before, and she was not ready. Stepping in, the vampire turned to the priest and, with as even a voice as she could muster, asked: "Who are you?"
The dragon priest turned to her, watching her silently for a few moments before he replied: "Skathrald was my name, though I can see you do not know it," he said. Despite his words, he spoke with no malice - only a mild curiosity. "If you are fellow acolytes, know me then as Zahkriisos."
Sword-blood. Blood blade? Saya translated in her mind. Despite the priest's lack of immediate hostility, his past words brought a lingering unease that she couldn't shake off. Gratian wrote plenty about hearing voices in his head, and apparently she was supposed to hear them as well, now? With a shaky hand, she took the Bloodskal Blade off her back. "Is this yours, then?"
Zahkriisos turned to her once more. For another few silent seconds, he stared at her wordlessly. Then, his shoulders shook in quiet laughter. "Most curious." He lifted his arm, stretching out his pale fingers in a beckoning gesture. Immediately, Saya felt an invisible force rip the sword from her grasp and it flew straight into his hand. As the pair watched on in quiet panic, Zahkriisos seemed to pay them no mind while he examined his weapon. "Most curious, indeed. It appears my followers have neglected to feed the blade properly. A shame. Perhaps I will discipline them myself, when I have the time."
Saya's hand instinctively reached for the sword on her hip when Serana caught her by the wrist. Saya looked at her with surprise and the vampire gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before she stepped forward. "We have no quarrel with you. Our mission here was only to investigate this passage and return. We do not wish to make enemies."
"Do you, now?" Zahkriisos lifted his gaze off his weapon. Despite its weight, he seemed to have no trouble holding it in one hand. "Yet you had no qualms about killing my followers as you descended here. Perhaps Miraak would see it fit to forgive this trespass…" Saya visibly flinched upon hearing that name. "…but you do not ally with him either, do you?" He stared at them knowingly, neither of them having a response. Then, he lifted his blade and pointed it at them. "You reject our blessing, kill our believers, and trespass upon our domain. Give me a single reason not to punish you accordingly."
Serana tensed up, struggling to keep her composure. Zahkriisos was growing impatient. If they were to avoid confrontation, she would need to think quickly. And yet, her mind was blank. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to articulate a single word. That was when she felt Saya's hand lay heavy on her shoulder as the Dragonborn stepped forward.
"Because we're not going to make it easy for you," she hissed. In a quick motion, she took Hevnoraak's mask off her belt and put it on, activating the ward while she reached for her sword. Zahkriisos' flashed with recognition and he almost seemed to grin behind his mask.
"Good."
With that final word, he grasped Bloodskal with both hands and swung, cleaving an arc of radiant red that spanned nearly the whole room. Serana dropped down to one knee and placed both hands on the floor, raising a wall of ice to block the wave of energy. Though the wall stood, it audibly cracked from the impact and the pair backed away just in time for Zahkriisos to burst through it, his entire body crackling with red lightning. Saya's eyes widened at the sight.
"Get behind me. Now," Saya said and moved in front of Serana before she had any time to protest, holding Stormblade at the ready. Her hands were shaking around the weapon, whether with fear or rage she did not know. Fortunately, Serana did not argue and moved up the stairs, taking a higher position with her ranged magic. Unfortunately, their opponent understood this tactic just as well.
Zahkriisos' mask briefly flashed as electricity crackled around his body and he took a step forward. There was a bright flash, and Saya felt the hairs stand on her back as Zahkriisos suddenly appeared right in front of Serana, his blade already mid-swing. The vampire dodged his strike by a hair as she dropped down and tumbled back down the stairs. Once she regained her footing, she placed a hand down on the ground and a burst of ice froze the priest's blade to the floor.
Pressing the advantage, Saya quickly whipped around and slashed at Zahkriisos, yet the dragon priest merely took one hand off his blade and used it to catch hers. Her eyes widened as she watched him turn to face her and chuckle. "Not enough." His grasp around Stormblade suddenly tightened and she could've sworn she saw his mask flash again. Immediately, an arc of lightning shot over from his body and ran down Saya's weapon - only to then stop right there.
Zahkriisos looked down, puzzled that his counter didn't work. In that moment, Saya pulled her weapon back from his hand and thrust it in his torso. Stormblade released the stored lightning back into the priest's body, sending shocks and convulsions through his flesh. Zahkriisos groaned with pain and for a moment, Saya almost felt like she had struck a nerve. The very next second, she felt the air leave her lungs as Zahkriisos struck her with his bare fist. She could've sworn she saw her ward shatter when the rebound came and she was sent flying back into a nearby wall.
"NO!" Serana cried as she sent out a volley of ice spikes toward Zahkriisos. The priest took it as a warning, breaking the ice encasing his blade and deflecting each of the haphazard projectiles with almost performative ease. Then, as though responding in kind, he lifted his free hand and shot a bolt of electricity towards her. Serana barely managed to remain standing as the shock traveled through her body and she glared at him with crimson eyes, her healing factor kicking in.
If Zahkriisos weren't masked, they would've seen his eyebrows lift in surprise. "A vampire? How unexpected," he said with mild amusement. "I have already forgotten how undead flesh tastes." He lifted his blade on his shoulder, his body once again crackling with magical shocks as he prepared to lunge. Only this time, his advance was interrupted as he heard a sudden gust of wind come from behind him. He quickly turned to see the cause of it when he felt a hand press to his back.
The next moment, a large flaming explosion erupted with Zahkriisos as its center. Ravenous flames ate away at his robes and the smell of burning flesh stung Serana's nostrils as the priest recoiled, now truly in pain. "You've done it now, you sniveling rat!" The vampire watched as he turned around, trying to swat Saya away with another aimless blow only for her to duck beneath his arm and sink a dagger into his shoulder. Golden magic glimmered at the wound, searing his flesh even further as Saya readied herself for another blow.
His mask flashed again. Once more, arcs of lightning suddenly erupted all around his body and the Dragonborn recoiled, the magic dancing across her armor and sending painful twitches throughout her whole body. Then, just as she thought she was out of range, she felt a powerful kick land square in her stomach and she felt the lightning truly surge. Serana barely had the time to catch her friend as she slammed back-first into her, her knees giving out and her muscles refusing to listen when she tried to stand.
"Breathe. Breathe," Serana told her as he saw the Dragonborn's chest heaving under her armor. Her eyes lifted towards Zahkriisos, who grabbed the dagger from his shoulder and tossed it aside before he moved on to his flaming robes.
"His mask," Saya wheezed. The vampire looked down at her with confusion. Saya lifted her head. "He's not like him. His mask flashes every time he uses his lightning. It's protecting him from his own magic," she said, standing up on wobbly legs. "Think you can get it off?"
Serana looked at the priest once again. Having ripped off most of the burning cloth from his torso, she could see now the massive wound in his side, dripping with blood. She reached back into her pouch, pulling out a small silver ring encrusted with a pristinely cut ruby, and glanced back at Saya. "I can."
The Dragonborn nodded and touched her mask again. A brief shimmer cascaded around her body from it as the ward reconstructed itself. "Then let's go. On my signal," she said and turned towards Zahkriisos-
-just in time to see him grab her by the head and slam her face-first into the floor, her ward immediately shattering with a piercing noise. The dragon priest slowly lifted his head to look at Serana, his eyes burning with rage under his expressionless mask. "You have some nerve, scheming right in front of an opponent. I should cut your tongues out." He picked Saya up as he spoke, lifting the Bloodskal in his other hand to run her through.
Serana put on the ring and within an instant, she was already in front of him. In one swift motion, her silver dagger left its sheath and cut across his exposed abdomen, blood spraying out of the open wound only to go still in the air, suddenly flowing straight into Serana's hand as the gem on her ring gleamed red. Continuing the motion with unprecedented speed and strength, she stuck the blade in his wrist and twisted it, forcing Zahkriisos to release Saya.
The Dragonborn dropped down and immediately yanked the weapon out before sticking it into his armpit. As another spray of crimson flowed from his veins, Zahkriisos roared with anger and his mask flashed with a bright light. Serana took the cue and pushed away from the dragon priest, leaping back out of range while Saya readied her Stormblade, holding it out in front of her. Just then, Zahkriisos released his magic and lightning coursed through his body, arcing outward in chaotic bursts.
"Now!" Saya screamed the moment his frenzy subsided. Zahkriisos whipped around with inhuman speed, Bloodskal Blade glowing in his hand as he wound up for a massive strike. Only suddenly, he felt a weight upon him as Serana leapt onto his back, one hand holding onto his shoulder and the other - ripping the mask off his face. Beneath it, the Dragonborn finally saw his face: a pale man with greying black hair, a strong jaw covered in a thick beard, and two eyes with twice as many pupils.
"NO! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK!" Skathrald shrieked, completely forgetting about the opponent in front of him. The mask Serana had taken seemed to be the only thing on his mind as he stopped in his tracks and looked back at the vampire. In his eyes, there was only mindless rage.
That was when he felt a sudden chill go down his spine. Like the breath of someone hanging right above your ear, an ephemeral cold that makes your hairs stand on end and your body shudder involuntarily. Those were the things he felt as Saya drew breath and in a low, gravelly tone, she said a single word:
"Krii."
The next thing Serana saw, Saya plunged her glowing sword straight into the priest's heart and pushed him into the waters. In the blink of an eye, Stormblade released the lightning it had captured tenfold. The black waters in the pool were alight with energy, the liquid both within and without Zahkriisos coming to an instant boil as his flesh peeled and bubbled. His lungs filled with the murky, bloody mixture as he shrieked and thrashed about, the Bloodskal Blade in his hand flashing red with each scream to leave his throat, until he finally went still and the weapon inexplicably shattered into pieces.
Saya and Serana watched this unfold for a few long, uncomfortable seconds before Saya figured she'd had enough. With a gesture, orange magic wrapped around Stormblade and pulled it out of the motionless corpse. Saya held it for a few moments before her nose wrinkled. "Ugh… well, that's certainly a smell," she mumbled, wiping the curdled blood on the edge of her cloak.
Serana crossed her arms, not sure whether to laugh or not. "After all that, your first worry is the smell?"
Saya chose not to respond.
That's one ancient danger taken care of, I would say. I'm guessing probably some draugr that we missed along the way, but I think the guard can take care of it if they ever go this deep.
As for me, the first order of business was to check out the word wall. I think I understood most of the contents, though I'm not quite sure what to make of it. One thing I can say for sure is that Zahkriisos was not the one to put the wall here, especially since it begins with the words "Here lies the traitor Skathrald Blood-Cleaver". It says he was an exile from some kind of pagan tribe, and that he was struck down for turning on his dragon masters and attempting "to steal their power by devouring their flesh"… Some fellow, this one.
As for the word of power, it is "Mul", so "Power" or "Strength" would be the translation. I would meditate on it, but honestly I'm not sure where to even start. It just feels so… generic. Maybe I'll get lucky and we come across a dragon kind enough to part with its soul for me so I can have some kind of baseline, at least.
Oh, and one more thing: behind the word wall, Zahkriisos had a small vault or altar of sorts. It was a tiny room with almost nothing in it - except for a pedestal with a big black book. Normally, I'd jump at the chance to read it but Serana said she had a bad feeling about it, so I decided to humor her and wait until another time. Hell, maybe someone back in town knows what it is.
Ah, how I missed the fresh, ash-filled air above ground! Not that much, to be honest. But it does beat the rotted stench down in the catacombs.
Serana and I split up almost immediately after getting topside. She went to find Aphia - and by extension, Crescius. Meanwhile, I went straight to Councilor Morvayn to notify him of their little undead pest problem. By the time Serana came back with Crescius, there were already some talks of reopening the mine now that the unidentified dangers it posed were no longer an issue. I think that even if the old man was unhappy about his grandfather, the joy of hearing that the mine was going to open again probably overshadowed it all.
Speaking of overshadowing things, Serana and I also got rewarded for our little contribution to this. Five thousand gold, all in all. I insisted Serana keep it, but she gave most of it to me and only kept a portion for herself, saying that I'm the one spending money all the time and all. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling bad that I'd be spending money that doesn't exactly belong to me. We'll have to figure it out later, I have too much of a headache to argue right now.
The last thing I asked was about the book we found. Nobody on the council recognized it, but Captain Veleth mentioned that during his brief visit to Raven Rock some time ago, Neloth of Tel Mithryn was asking about "black books". Which… matches the description, I guess. It's certainly a book, and it's certainly black. Oh well, I suppose I was going to visit him sooner or later. I'll file that under "worries for tomorrow Saya".
Right now, I need a drink. And some dinner. Maybe crab. Do they have crab here?
Middas, the 14th of Morning Star, 4E202
I have… an absolutely BITCHING headache right now. And somehow, I get the feeling I only have myself to blame, especially with the look Serana has been giving me all morning.
The way she told it over breakfast, I got a bit tipsy yesterday evening and decided to tell Geldis about what happened at the mine. Word went around, and within a couple hours I was buying people rounds and nearly cleared out his stock of brandy. She had to all but drag me to bed, and I supposedly threw up sometime during the night. Thankfully, into a bucket that Geldis had the foresight to put next to my bed. I gave him an extra tip this morning as thanks.
Unfortunately, I can't bribe Serana quite that easily, so I'll be feeling that glare of stern disappointment for a little while longer. If she's trying to get me to go sober for a few days, it honestly might just work… though on the other hand, at least I didn't have any nightmares tonight. I suppose we'll see.
The road to Tel Mithryn felt a lot longer than it really was and I don't feel bad about it in the slightest. You will not believe what we just came across. Guess what it was. Go on, guess. Did you try? Well, if you guessed anything except a fucking SILT STRIDER, then you are WRONG and I don't even blame you.
I have no words. I feel like a little kid right now. Shit, I haven't even seen a silt strider since I was… five? And then here it is, an honest-to-Vehk silt strider, here of all places! Her name is Dusty, and her owner, Revus, brought her here from Vvardenfell while she was still a tiny cocoon. Sadly, he says she's a bit too old for travel now, and none of the other eggs from her batch survived so finding a mate isn't an option. He even says she might be the last of her kind, so he's been making sure to take good care of her.
That sobering thought aside, I wish I could bottle the look on Serana's face when she touched Dusty's carapace and she started humming. I think she had a religious experience there just now. I should bring mom here someday. She would love this.
Serana noticed the outline of Tel Mithryn long before it properly came into view. It was a gargantuan mushroom tower that grew on the very edge of Solstheim's southeastern coast, its parasol-like cap so massive it kept that side of the beach in near-constant shade. The thick bulbous stalk had a texture that at a glance seemed like something between bone and metal, while its base disappeared into the ashen soil. Threads of root-like mycelia stretched out from the ground into a handful of smaller 'mushroom buildings', more akin to huts or small houses than the tower they stemmed from. Each and every one of them had the same round wooden front door, equal parts comical and foreboding.
A few minutes of following the road later, the pair could see Tel Mithryn in its full glory. In the left corner of her vision, Saya could barely see another one of those monoliths, akin to the Earth Stone she found in Raven Rock. A similar shrine was being constructed around it, though the progress was notably less impressive. To her right, meanwhile, a trail led straight to the tower's courtyard, where Talvas was arguing with a Dunmer woman dressed in common Telvanni robes.
"-I already told you, I need the ashy soil for this to work. Master Neloth knows what I'm doing," Talvas said in a quick, curt tone. From his expression and the spellbook he was holding in his hand, it seemed that he wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over. "Just… no need to bother him about it. He's quite busy at the moment."
The woman's eyes narrowed as she looked the apprentice up and down. She didn't seem to be much older than him, though she certainly had an air around her that gave Talvas a bit of pause. "Well, whatever happens - it'll be on your head. Remember that." She crossed her arms as the two exchanged a silent glare. Then, she appeared to notice the two newcomers as Saya waved at her, and so the woman assumed a more dignified pose. "Ah, greetings. I'm sorry you had to see that."
At that point, Talvas also turned around and his grim expression shifted to one of pleasant surprise. "Oh, it's you two. I- I didn't expect you would come so soon," he put away his book hastily with an awkward laugh. Saya raised an eyebrow.
"We're not interrupting something here, are we? Lover's quarrel?" She chuckled, watching the two Dunmer exchange a glance and immediately recoil in disgust. Serana stifled a giggle at their reactions. "I'm Saya, and this is Serana. We were hoping to see the magister…?" She trailed off, looking between the two of them. The woman took the cue, stepping forward.
"Welcome, Saya, Serana." She smiled, giving each of them a small bow. "I am Varona, the steward to Master Neloth. We don't usually get many visitors here, are you his associates by any chance?" Talvas snorted at the question.
"Relax, you. They're the two that helped me with the ash spawn problem." He nudged Varona unceremoniously, interrupting her usual steward routine. Then he turned to face the pair, asking: "I assume you two are here on some kind of business."
Saya shrugged. "More or less. I take it he's in the, uh…" She gestured vaguely in Tel Mithryn's direction, moving her hand up and down in less than proper motion. "…'tower', somewhere?"
Varona broke into a surprised cough at the comment while Serana bumped her friend's side with her elbow. "Saya!" She hissed, her tone equally embarrassed and indignant.
"What? It's not my fault every other Telvanni tower looks like a-" The vampire nudged her again before she could finish her sentence, this time more forceful as the poor girl looked more flustered by the second.
Talvas' valiant attempt to suppress his laughter finally failed as he snorted from behind his fist and then quickly cleared his throat to try to hide it. "He's uh… yes, he's inside. Follow me," he said with a strained voice, gesturing them to come.
Varona, having recovered from her stupor, suddenly processed what he said and called out: "Wait, didn't you just say Master Neloth was busy?" Talvas waved her off dismissively, completely ignoring the question as he pushed the door open and the pair followed him into the tower.
Inside, they were met with a tiny vestibule with little room to stand, let alone sit. Talvas didn't seem at all fazed by this, leading them to stand inside a small circular chamber on the back end of the room, where complicated glyphs lined the floor. The moment all three of them stepped in, the glyphs lit up with a purplish hue and an invisible platform lifted off the floor, taking them up the tower.
"A levitation glyph," Talvas explained, seeing their surprised faces. "Telvanni Magisters don't normally provide this kind of luxury to outsiders, but seeing as how he's the only mage around here who can levitate on demand, we eventually convinced him to provide everyone else with a means to get in."
"Wouldn't that be a security risk?" Saya asked him while Serana stared in wide-eyed wonder at the glowing platform, illuminating the web-like mycelia inside the tower's stem.
"Not really," he said. "It doesn't work unless Master Neloth marks you with a spell as one of his own. It's a pain, but he figured it was easier than teaching the proper techniques to us 'magically-impaired simpletons', as he put it."
"Huh. A real charmer, isn't he."
Talvas chuckled sardonically. "You don't know half of it."
About a minute passed before the three of them had finally reached the top of the tower. Inside the mushroom cap, as it turned out, there was a number of various rooms. One of them Saya suspected was Talvas', while the other, judging by the quantity of security glyphs disguised as adornments on the door, likely belonged to the magister himself. The pair followed Talvas as he led them to the room directly ahead of them, which had no door to speak of but nonetheless possessed a doorway, which he politely knocked on.
"Excuse me, Master Neloth? You have visitors," he called out. Serana couldn't help but notice just how meek he sounded, the previous cheekiness all but vanished from his voice in his master's presence.
The three of them entered the room. It was a very spacious chamber, its shape vaguely reminiscent of a squished sphere. Numerous tables, cases, desks and shelves littered the interior, filled with components magical and mundane, containers of questionable contents and so many staffs and tiny enchanted baubles that Saya had no doubt in her mind were all but forgotten by their creator.
Neloth himself stood at the far end of the chamber, just outside a magical bubble wherein a large chunk of heart stone was floating around, releasing its arcane energies in violent bursts. He was a deceptively old Dunmer, bald and with bushy eyebrows almost permanently knitted into an irritated sneer. His wrinkled face was sharp and angular, with a large aquiline nose and a triangular beard where one could just barely spot a couple grey hairs sprouting hiding among the brown ones. His outfit consisted of luxurious garnet red robes, adorned with golden thread and spiky pauldrons imitating the silhouette of daedric armor, and completed with a vermilion scarp draped haphazardly over his shoulders.
"Talvas," he said without so much as a glance. His voice had an authority to it, a kind of nasal articulation which clearly communicated that the speaker wasn't very fond of not being the most important person in the room at all times. "What part of 'Do not disturb me during my studies' is too complicated for you to understand?"
After those words, Neloth finally deigned to look at his apprentice. Talvas immediately straightened his back, as though he were zapped with an electric shock. "I- I apologize, Master Neloth. It's just- as I said just now, you- you probably didn't hear me…" He babbled, trying to formulate an excuse when Saya patted him on the shoulder and walked around him.
"I think I can handle the introductions, Talvas. Thank you." She flashed him a small smile and then turned to Neloth. "Magister," she said, bowing in greeting. Serana mirrored the gesture with a curtsy of her own. "I'm Saya. I believe I have something that-"
"Who is this woman, Talvas?" Neloth interrupted her curtly, raising an irritated eyebrow as he turned to his apprentice. Talvas, who was just on his way out of the study, suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around with all the grace of a spooked mammoth.
"T-They are the two that helped me with the investigation you sent me on. Do you remember? The ash spawn attacking Raven Rock?" He stammered out and Neloth nodded, vaguely recalling such a task.
"Hmm. Yes, I do remember that." The magister stroked his beard as he stepped away from his experiment and walked towards the newcomers. Saya, by this point, felt quite off her game. She was somewhat startled when the older Dunmer bent down to take a closer look at her. "And why did you bring them here, exactly?" He asked, red eyes still affixed to Saya's face.
"One of them said they had business with you. I- I did not ask what kind." Now that he said it out loud, Talvas felt quite stupid - a comment Neloth would've surely voiced if he weren't busy examining the two new faces in his study, surely taking mental notes as he did. When he was done with Saya, he vocalized an ambiguous 'hmph' and approached Serana, performing the same procedure.
"And what 'business', exactly, might be worth bringing a mongrel and a vampire into my home?" He asked, his eyes now peering directly into Serana's to the point where she felt them burrow into her very soul, completely ignoring Talvas' surprise at the word 'vampire'. This was thankfully only momentary, as he was soon distracted with the rustle of Saya taking off her backpack and pulling out the object of her interest from within.
"The kind of business that we know you're already conducting." Neloth turned around and Saya demonstratively held out the black book in front of herself. His expression shifted slightly, a hint of intrigue sparkling in the magister's eyes. "We found this buried in a Nord barrow deep under Raven Rock. I've been told you were searching for similar objects, and so I wanted to hear what you have to say about this one - what it is, what it's for, and what it has to do with the mind-controlled lunatics that have been trying to kill me for the past five months." There was a biting poison laced into the last words she spoke, one that made both Serana and Talvas flinch a bit when they heard her speak.
For better or worse, however, Neloth was no stranger to such poisons and simply took the book out of her hands. He inspected it for a few long seconds, though never actually opening it and looking inside, and then cast a curious look upon the so-called 'mongrel' before him. "What was your name again, you said?"
The tiny elf put a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes. "Saya. And my friend is Serana. A pleasure to meet you, Magister Maryon," she hissed. Neloth allowed himself a surprised chuckle at that.
Then, after a few moments of silence, he said: "Talvas, out. I want to hear what these two have to say."
Talvas was never happier to oblige.
Yeah, he's about as much of a stuck-up pissant as I thought. What is it with this island and cranky old men? What happened to kindly grandpas with funny stories and illegal but nonetheless very useful life advice?
Although, maybe Neloth has got the illegal part down.
He made us wait for another five minutes or so until he finished his experiment. Took his time, too. Then he moved on to looking the book up and down and finally decided to talk to us.
What we found is something called a "Black Book" (a wholly uninspiring name, if you ask me), one of many others like it. They are artifacts of the Daedric Prince of Forbidden Knowledge, Hermaeus Mora. He asked me if either of us read it and seemed almost disappointed when the response was a resounding "No", though he did offhandedly mention that most people who try to read them end up going mad and turn into raving lunatics. So that's nice.
I filled him in on the details of how and where we got it, as well as why we're here to begin with. For a change, he actually recognized the name "Miraak". He also told us that we didn't make any sense, because Miraak "has been dead for thousands of years". I started listening a bit more attentively from that point on.
Neloth came across his name once or twice when researching local legends dating back to the times of the Dragon Cult, though most of them simply referred to him as "the Traitor" or "the Betrayer". He was once a powerful dragon priest that ruled Solstheim who gathered a big following both among the common people and his fellow clergy. Eventually, his lust for power outgrew his station and he turned to Hermaeus Mora for mentorship, plotting a rebellion to overthrow the dragons. Unfortunately for him, one of the other dragon priests, known now as "the Guardian", discovered this plot and personally sought out Miraak to strike him down for his betrayal, presumably killing him.
"Presumably", because he evidently didn't succeed. Or he did, and now I'm being hunted from beyond the grave. Riveting, either way.
So, armed with that knowledge, we decided that it might be best to go straight to the source for any information Miraak. He was Hermaeus Mora's champion, and right now I have one of his artifacts, often said to give people the knowledge they seek. They're also said to break people's brains irreparably and turn them into babbling maniacs who claw their own eyes out and forget their own names.
I knew there was a reason I always disliked gambling.
"Just to be clear: what's supposed to happen once I read this, exactly?" Saya asked, trying not to let the anxiety show in her voice as Neloth handed her the book and stepped outside the ritual circle. He muttered some kind of incantation and snapped his fingers, and a powerful magical barrier immediately sprung up around Saya - the same kind as the one she saw when she first entered. Needless to say, it didn't instill her with confidence.
"Most coherent enough to be questioned after reading a Black Book say they find themselves in another place," Neloth said as he stopped and turn around, looking at her from outside the ward. Serana stood next to him, watching her friend with no small amount of worry in her eyes. "Your body will remain here on some level, but your consciousness and soul will travel to Apocrypha, the daedric plane of Hermaeus Mora. Once you're there, it'll be up to you to decipher whatever secrets the book holds, in whatever manner it may present them."
Saya raised an eyebrow at his peculiar wording. "On some level? What do you mean?"
"It means that your body and soul are inextricably linked," he sighed, saying that as though it were the most obvious of truths that even a child should know. "Your physical body reading the book is what allows your soul to travel to Apocrypha. As your corporeal vessel, it will remain here, appearing to simply read the book. As your point of entry, however, it will be completely intangible to anyone on the physical plane. Any objects you find in Apocrypha will be brought over here once your consciousness returns. Any injuries your soul sustains will be reflected upon your physical body. And of course, if your mind should perish while you're out in Apocrypha…"
Saya nodded. "Then my body kicks it as well," she finished. Serana's posture grew just a bit more tense at their words. Saya gave her a reassuring look, smiling as best as she could given her own nervousness at the situation. Then she took a deep breath and said: "Alright. Let's see what this whole thing is about…"
With those words, she opened the Black Book. In spite of her reflexively squinting and half-turning away, it looked just like any other old tome she had seen in her life. She relaxed somewhat, her eyes gliding down to the title: 'The Winds of Change', by Liesl Grey-Heart. The rest of the page was empty. She turned the page.
It was then that she began to hear a voice speaking in her mind. Not quite clear at first, but growing more and more pronounced with each syllable, each spoken word:
During the reign of Elgryr, I took notice of the various patterns in the thoughts and behaviors of a troubled populace, and undertook a humble plan to comprehend and, in the end, affect them. Being of ordered mind, I began my taxonomy in the lower classes, which divided evenly into those who were born within the city walls and those arrived from outside…
Saya lifted her head and blinked. Despite knowing it would happen, she was still surprised to see that she was no longer in Tel Mithryn, and that the watchful eyes of Serana and Neloth were nowhere to be found. Instead, they were replaced by the snow-covered streets of a vaguely familiar city. She saw people walking around her, past her, even through her - going about their daily lives, paying no mind to her whatsoever. As though she wasn't even there.
…familial connections were the next order of priority. Those in the populace who frequently interacted with other people naturally provided ample opportunity for expanding mnemonic control. However, I saw fit that the experiment should begin with only a single specimen that could be easily found in isolation. This would ensure that the subject's condition is easy to monitor and any changes to the environment could be administered with little risk of side effects…
The voice inside her head was male. A Nord, judging by the accent. Educated, judging by the diction and vocabulary. Her eyes darted around as she walked through the crowd, trying to find its source. Something in the back of her skull tickled when her gaze traveled across a man in grey robes, walking through the streets and mumbling something to himself. Every once in a while, he would stop at one of the houses and draw a symbol by the door with one of his fingers.
…I have chosen the Snow Quarter as the starting location for my project. Due to the district's proximity to the Windhelm docks, many of its residents frequently interact with fellow workers and possess little education beyond the basics. This meant that there would be little interference by way of magical protections and reduce the factor of risk of backlash after initial exposure, while still ensuring none of the subjects were completely illiterate. In adherence with my classifications, as attached below, I passed from house to house marking them in order of availability. After settling on a subject, I returned to the laboratory to take care of any last minute preparations…
Saya watched the vistas before her gradually warp and shift around the man as his voice reverberated in her ears. Seconds, minutes, hours passed and days blended together as he wandered from home to home, leaving his arcane markings at every single one. It felt like time itself followed the man's narration, its tempo stilted and inconsistent, stuttering along in inconstant bursts and crawling at a snail's pace. The sun came and went, the stars - mere flashes in the corner of Saya's eye.
Until eventually, it was all gone and she found herself inside a cramped stone basement. Esoteric patterns covered every inch of the floor, geometry melding with biology in shapes that felt odd to look at, as though they didn't want to be beheld. The door behind her slammed open and Saya flinched, turning around to see the robed man walk in. In his arms, he carried an unconscious Nord man of relatively strong physique, thirty to forty years of age.
…once my next subject was chosen after weeks of deliberation, I waited for him at his house. Having the advantage of surprise, I promptly cast a spell to put the subject to sleep and transported him to the laboratory. After the first experiment resulted in a violent reaction and destroyed some valuable equipment that ultimately proved to be unnecessary, a decision was made to move the ritual site to a more controlled environment, where the subject's ability to resist could be appropriately restricted…
The robed man carefully placed his 'subject' into a sturdy chair at the center of the room, a series of clicks following as he locked the manacles around his wrists and ankles. A series of leather straps were then wrapped around his legs and torso to further restrict his movement. Once that was finished, Saya watched the man finally remove his hood. He was a tall Nord of weathered complexion, with long grey hair tied back to keep it out of his eyes. His pallid face displayed no emotion except for subdued scientific curiosity, and a light five o'clock shadow gave him the look of a man who hadn't slept properly in a long time.
…the subject's reaction upon regaining consciousness was predictable and nearly identical to the previous. Initial disorientation and confusion were quickly succeeded by fear bordering on panic, as well as repeated inquiries as to our location. Overall, subject two proved to be much less aggressive and so was more receptive to reason. In hopes of avoiding having to use illusion magic like last time to pacify the individual, I introduced myself and attempted to persuade him into following my instructions, promising to release him afterward. The attempt proved to be successful…
Saya watched the two men briefly converse as the robed one - Liesl, as he identified himself - asked his captive various questions. Some of them, such as 'What's your name?', seemed to serve no practical purpose beyond calming down the bound man. Others, like 'How long do you sleep on average?', appeared to be more deliberate in purpose. After a few minutes of back-and-forth Liesl stepped away to a nearby desk, searching for a specific object. When he brought it into the light, Saya's eyes widened in recognition: it was a large tome with a featureless black cover, just like the one she had just read.
Liesl then turned the book around and opened it, a single word of command dropping from his lips with such intensity that it sent a shudder down Saya's back: "Read."
For the first few seconds, nothing happened. The bound man hesitantly complied, his eyes slowly taking in the page's contents as he muttered them out loud under his breath, obviously not very used to reading works of such complexity. After the first few lines, there was finally a reaction - a barely noticeable twitch in the left eyelid. Liesl's expression changed slightly, but he made no comment as the man continued reading. Another minute passed before he abruptly stopped mid-sentence.
Liesl's brows furrowed. "Are you done? Shall I turn the page?" He asked, his tone growing increasingly impatient as his captive stared at the book, slack-jawed. He almost didn't seem to be breathing, only the slight twitch in his eyelid hinting that the man was alive at all. The mage frowned. "Dyrnar. I asked you, are you done with this page? Shall I-"
The breath got stuck in Liesl's throat as his subject finally looked at him, and Saya felt immediately that something was wrong. It was something minute, something so tiny that she didn't even see it until she got so close she was practically looking around Liesl's shoulder. Then the realization hit her like a zap of electricity: in Dyrnar's left eye, there were two pupils. Then four. Then eight.
Liesl backed away in horror as he watched the twitching black apertures flood the whites of his prisoner's eyeball until nothing remained but an orb of solid black. He dropped the Black Book to the floor without another thought, reaching for his research log to start frantically writing down his observations.
…subject two is exhibiting profuse polycoria that is rapidly intensifying in spite of any biological limitations. No discomfort appears to be present on the subject's behalf aside from an involuntary neurotic convulsion of the upper left eyelid. Ocular hypertension is observed as the affected eyeball appears to have visibly swelled up in size, though lack of discernible blood vessels makes it impossible to accurately record the expansion rate and effects on the orbit…
A low, pained moan finally distracted Liesl from his writing. He turned around sharply to see Dyrnar's eye inflating like a balloon, soon surpassing the volume of a human head. "Help… me…" Dyrnar groaned, his whispered words barely audible through the agonized, wheezing exhale. Visibly panicking, Liesl grabbed the quill one last time and scribbled down one last sentence.
Experiment aborted due to loss of control over the subject.
Saya then watched as Liesl grabbed a knife and drew it across his palm, spilling fresh blood over the rune circles at his feet. The splattered shapes lit up with energy in response and within moments, a protective ward very reminiscent of Neloth's sprang up between Dyrnar and his captor.
Everything froze.
Saya blinked, confused. It took her a moment to realize that it was not her imagination, and that everything around her did indeed stop. She took a step forward, looking around the room. She saw Liesl's face, a panicked scowl of a man terrified for his own safety. She saw the glyphs on the floor, warping and fusing with one another until the individual shapes were barely recognizable. She saw Dyrnar, struggling against his bindings, crying out in unimaginable pain as his eyeball spilled from his skull into an amorphous globule of pure, all-consuming blackness that reflected not even the blinding light of the wards that surrounded him.
And then, it burst, and Saya's vision was filled with complete and utter darkness. There was no Liesl, no Dyrnar, no chair. No basement, no laboratory, no cold stone houses with holes in the roof, no snow-filled streets. Saya was alone, staring into a pure, endless void.
The void blinked and stared back at her with a single, double-pupiled eye.
In her head, Saya heard a single word, echoing in every language known and unknown to her, every voice possibly imaginable, reverberating off every corner of her mind that seemed at once so vast and boundless and so horribly, claustrophobically small.
"Welcome."
Like a cocoon, the darkness slowly unfurled and Saya felt air flowing in from all sides. She released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and drew a sharp inhale, the taste of metal and sulphur on her tongue. The ceiling and the walls and the floor that had until now completely blended together suddenly became separate once more, and Saya lifted her head to see the sky above, a black abyss strewn with web-like capillaries of sickly green and bile yellow. Her eyes moved down and she witnessed an endless expanse of pale fog above an ink-black ocean, with arching protrusions that looked like bones poking out from the impenetrably murky waters.
The blinding darkness around retracted, and soon nothing of it remained except a tiny platform of what appeared to be ink-soaked roots bent into shapes that at once seemed geometric and organic, flowing beneath her feet. More and more of these tendril-like shapes emerged from the waters, forming a path that beckoned her eyes to follow. She turned around, and behind herself she saw one of those malformed constructions hidden in the waters, the roots beneath her binding with one another into a bridge for her to step across.
"...why couldn't I have just gone to the Skaal," Saya muttered and began to walk.
Apocrypha, Apocrypha… In all my years of exploring, I've never actually had the chance to go to a daedric plane. Or a good enough reason to. So far, I have to say I'm not exactly… thrilled. There's certainly part of me that's a little excited but it's mostly outweighed by the fact that everything around here is trying to kill me, be that intentionally or by accident.
After doing a bit of looking around, it seems to me that most of the realm is kind of isolated. Or at the very least, the part of it that I'm in sure seems isolated. Whichever. The point is, there's these massive stretches of… water, ink? It's black, so it might be ink or tar, but it burns like hell to the touch, and it's bloody everywhere. For experiment's sake, I tossed an empty potion bottle I forgot to throw away in there, and by the sizzling sound I'm fairly sure it just dissolved completely. So unless there's some kind of anti-Apocrypha boat somewhere on Nirn that I manage to bring in here, I'd wager there's no way for me to swim across to any of those other islands.
Then again, I'm not sure I would even want to. Getting lost in Oblivion sounds horrible.
Something I noticed while walking around is that everything here seems to be made out of books, or something related to books or writing. Those pillars I see all around? Books, letters, and other such stuff stacked on top of each other and connected with some kind of solid black sap. The floor? Looks kind of like pages pressed together and folded into shape, I can even see letters on them if I squint. The bridges and platforms? Pretty sure those are roots or some kind of weird black wood. Some of the shapes off in the distance kind of look like trees, too.
Either way, wherever I'm going seems to be the right way, because I ran into something and it tried to kill me. That generally means I'm either going where I should be going, or I'm somewhere I'm absolutely not supposed to be - which rather often turns out to be the same thing. Anyway, the things I ran into weren't too threatening, though I don't think they were exactly meant to be fighters either. I'm guessing they're some kind of lesser daedra in Mora's service, probably his janitors or something. I think I saw some eyeballs floating around as well, and they had little tentacle arms too. I tried to pet one but it ran away.
Alright, I think I'm getting the pattern now. Apocrypha is supposed to be the realm of knowledge, right? Well, ever since I started looking around, I've been wondering why all the stuff I've been finding around here follows some kind of common theme. And that's when it hit me: I entered Apocrypha through a book. I am inside the book. This part of Apocrypha? All the writings here? It's all just stuff directly adjacent to the book that I read. And every time I get past a certain section of it, I'm "reading" the book back on Nirn. Why couldn't Neloth just explain this shit properly?
Still, that little revelation is probably the most exciting thing to happen here. I've ran into some puzzles blocking the path to some "treasure" (which was usually just more books, though I did find a handful of soul gems and a couple of scrolls), but they were usually more tedious than difficult. After the first few, I stopped really paying attention to them. My head is starting to hurt from all this green.
Saya breathed an audible sigh of relief when she finally saw the coveted pedestal with a Black Book resting at the other side of a wide open chamber. Of course, she knew what a trap looked like and this room had that word written all over it - maybe even literally, if she looked very closely at one of the walls - but by this point she was far too tired to let that dissuade her. With a spring in her step and a blade in her hand, she walked into the room and barely flinched when the gates slammed shut behind her.
The sound of bubbling water caught her attention. Her red eyes scanned her surroundings - three identical pools of black liquid formed a triangle around the room, two hidden away at the corners and another right before her. Soon, a figure emerged from each of them and congealed into a floating shape that had by now become familiar for Saya - a vaguely aquatic creature with four spindly arms, the head of a monstrous squid, and a body of mouths and tentacles covered in a cloak that looked like skin. Without a moment's hesitation, she sparked a fireball in her right hand and sent it flying towards the first, blasting it back into black slime before it could even form.
By the time she turned around, the other two seekers had already leapt out of their pools and began to move in frantic fashion. Saya's eyes narrowed as she struggled to keep her gaze focused. A wave of energy struck her from behind and she hissed, jumping back as she rubbed her shoulder through the armor. After the first few encounters, she figured out that the creatures were not exactly heavy hitters, and that their main way of combat was to slowly sap away the strength of their opponent until they simply dropped dead of exhaustion. It wasn't a terribly grievous injury, but it certainly left an unpleasant tingling sensation wherever it landed.
She blinked once, twice. Finally she realized why her eyes were struggling: both of the remaining seekers had each created a doppelganger that floated just nearby, each and every one of them sending out wave after wave of attacks in her direction. Saya twisted into a handspring to dodge one of the projectiles and grasped the other with her hand, her rippling Atronach ward absorbing the magicka harmlessly. Still there was the matter of the decoys…
"Laas," she whispered. Immediately, she sensed the wisps of energy around her - otherworldly, foreign, but distinct enough that she recognized the flicker of life in them. Another flaming orb congealed in her hand and she whipped around, throwing it directly into the chest-maw of one of the seekers. Then, she broke into a mad dash and plunged her sword right in the middle of the last one's head, the blade all but tearing through the boneless flesh with barely any resistance.
For a moment, she almost thought it was over and stopped to catch her breath. It was then that the pool opposite of the room entrance began to ripple once more. Saya was ready to groan internally, preparing for more of the octopus-like creatures, but the breath stuck in her throat when she saw a massive arm reach out of the waters. She watched with eyes wide in shock as a humanoid daedra the size of a giant lumbered out of the pool, its purplish black skin glistening with scales that turned to bone-like armor and two bulbous, milk-white eyes staring at her from a facsimile of a fish head.
The lumbering daedra roared and Saya's fight response immediately kicked in. She rushed to close the distance and get an early hit in when the creature stomped its foot down and an explosion of inky tendrils pushed her back, the black splatter burning her like acid. The pain had almost been enough to distract her from the daedra's approach, Saya ducking a heavy swing of its clawed arm by a hair and sliding between its legs.
One cut became two and the monstrosity roared again as it fell to its knees, unable to stand on crippled legs. Then, it felt a sudden weight on its shoulders as Saya jumped onto its back and grabbed Stormblade with both hands, plunging the weapon straight into the back of its neck before all but tearing out in the messiest motion she could muster, black blood splattering onto her armor. After another moment's struggle, the hulking daedra finally went still.
It was then that Saya heard a gate swing open behind her and she lifted her head. Her eyes focused and there she saw her coveted prize - the Black Book, lying on its final pedestal. Or at least, whatever she hoped would be the final pedestal, as the burning in her lungs and the ache in her muscles left her with little more than a desire to leave. She cast a final glance on the corpse before her before she wiped the sizzling blood off her face and stepped away towards the book.
The tome flipped open on its own before she even touched the cover. Though a little startled at first, Saya approached it and lowered her gaze onto the pages, where black lines of esoteric symbols crawled and sprawled across the paper. Like insects, they moved and weaved around one another, schematics coming to life and text forming into shapes and forms that her eyes could barely process. Saya felt a tingling sensation in her brain as she watched the symbols keep growing, black ink drowning the pages and spilling out onto the ground around her, that itch slow understanding making the back of her eyes tickle as they fluttered wide open and she suddenly realized-
She looked up. Around her was nothing but total darkness. She looked down. The book before her snapped shut and faded away, its black cover invisible against the equally black void surrounding them. She looked forward.
A single golden eye with a double pupil looked back at her.
"So, another seeker of knowledge comes to my realm. I, Hermaeus Mora, bid you welcome." The last word echoed in Saya's mind - a cordial greeting, a warning hiss, a sultry whisper - as manifold as the first time she heard it. "I have watched your progress in my realm with interest, mortal. You have completed the challenges laid before you, and so the secrets of this tome are yours by right. You have my… congratulations."
Saya felt a shudder creep up her back. Her mother was a priest, so ever since she was a little girl, she instilled into Saya a certain cautious reverence towards all deities, especially the Princes of Oblivion. Since then, one simple truth had been etched into Saya's mind: to respect without reverence was better than to revere without respect. One did not need to be a believer to know power when they saw it, and it would be far worse to slight such a powerful being by failing to show them their due.
"Thank you," she said in as neutral and polite a tone as she could manage. She fought to keep her voice from shaking in anxiety, a primal fear born from something older than the mind. The eye before her blinked, almost as though it were smiling. Saya did not know if that made her feel better or not.
"No thanks are necessary. You have taken what you have earned, nothing more and nothing less," the voice reverberated from all around her. Voices? Saya could not tell. In her mind, she understood the words the Daedric Prince spoke to her, yet her ears did not hear them - they heard only an echo, a sourceless yet omnipresent cacophony of sound and language, like a choir of dissonant whispers speaking inside her skull. "But I recognize the gleam in your eye, it is a look I know very well. The knowledge may be yours, but it is not what you came for." Saya flinched as the eye opened wider than she thought possible, peering directly at her. "So tell me, mortal. What knowledge do you seek in my realm?"
Saya's heartbeat quickened. In the blinding darkness around her, she could not tell if the eye was simply big and floating right in front of her, or very far away but impossibly large. Somehow, neither option was more comforting than the other. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. She did come here for something. Something very important.
"Miraak," she said and stared back directly into the Prince's eye. She could show no fear. Not if she wanted to get out alive and with what she needed. "I want you to tell me about Miraak."
The eye blinked again, this time more slowly. If Hermaeus Mora had a mouth, she was sure it would be twisted into a knowing smirk right about now. He hummed contemplatively before he responded: "Very well. What do you wish to know?"
Saya took another breath. This time, she was a bit calmer now that she had taken the initiative in the conversation. In practiced motion, she took out her journal and her pencil. "Everything. I know he is your champion, so you should know all about him, right?"
At her words, Hermaeus Mora suddenly stopped to stare directly at her, a predatory glint within his massive eye. Saya immediately shut up, feeling chills run down her skin. "Everything is a very dangerous word, mortal. Be careful with what you wish, for I can grant it all. The question is: what are you ready to give up in return for… everything?"
Saya swallowed a lump down her throat and nodded, nearly dropping the pencil. Okay. Okay, noted. "Then… I would like to change my request," she said in a slightly less confident voice. The Daedric Prince only looked at her with amusement, allowing her to continue. She thought for a moment, and then she said: "I want to know who Miraak is and why he's trying to hunt me down."
Hermaeus Mora seemed satisfied with that phrasing, his eye closing in a subtle nod. "As you wish." From Saya's perspective, the eye almost seemed to shrink, growing a bit less threatening as the Daedric Prince began to speak: "Miraak was my champion thousands of years before you were born. I have watched him for a long time, knowing of the potential that he possessed. When the time was right, he came to me seeking power that only I could grant him - mastery over fate itself. A desire that I suspect is quite familiar to you, Dragonborn."
Saya just barely suppressed her reflex to flinch at his words. He knew, of course he fucking knew. Bloody hell. She exhaled slowly, steeling her nerves before replying: "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."
"Do you not? Perhaps your soul has awakened to its nature too recently for you to feel its urges in full." The Daedric Prince gave her a curious look as he spoke. "Miraak knew well what it meant to be Dragonborn. By the blood of your Father, your kind seeks dominion. As the First of your kind, Miraak's desire for it was equal to none. In the end, it is what caused his downfall."
The question of what he meant already sat at the tip of Saya's tongue when she suddenly caught herself, remembering their earlier exchange. The golden eye cast a knowing look upon her. Certainly, she was learning - the question was how much. "I see. What about my other question?" Hermaeus Mora looked at her blankly. She blinked, realizing her mistake. "Uh… What does Miraak want with me, exactly?"
Hermaeus Mora stayed quiet for a while before replying cryptically: "He seeks you because he knows a true king suffers no equal in another. I know this, because it was I who taught him so." Saya's brows furrowed in confusion at his words. Seeing her reaction, the Prince quietly chuckled. Perhaps she knew even less than he expected. "You walk a path that once belonged to him. The Last Dragonborn, inheriting the legacy that the First had abandoned. He tried to stray from his fate, and fate has punished him for it. Now, he seeks to reclaim his place within this world - a place that you now occupy."
Saya's expression shifted. 'Troubled' was not a word intense enough to express how she was feeling. Hermaeus Mora's answers were incomplete - by design, she was sure - but even the crumbs she was offered revealed an entire world of questions she had never even considered before. Questions that he, no doubt, expected her to ask… She closed her eyes and shook her head. "…I see. In that case, I have one final question." She turned to him, staring straight into the golden eye with a look of determination. "Where do I find Miraak?"
Hermaeus Mora stared back at her silently for a while, squinting in a way she couldn't quite understand. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a warning undertone to it: "Do not forget yourself, Dragonborn. You are a guest in my realm, and so by my realm's rules you shall abide." Saya flinched when a large black tendril reached out from the abyss before her, reaching for the journal in her hand. She watched the pages flip on their own, every single thing she'd written down in it flashing before her eyes before the journal closed, landing in her hands again. "Knowledge for knowledge. To know you was the price for your first question, so I offered the answer freely. For the second answer, this journal shall be sufficient. Now, I ask you: what knowledge shall you give me for the third, that you have not already taken from me?"
Saya pursed her lips as she suddenly realized her predicament. Of course, she thought, the god of knowledge would want knowledge - and she had none to give. Not without offering up her very mind, and that was a line she refused to cross. Of all the writing she had on her, she had nothing to give except for the books she had found in Apocrypha itself and the Black Book that led her here to begin with. She bit her knuckle, thinking of what she could offer.
Then suddenly, Hermaeus Mora reached down to her himself, his golden eye looking curiously at her chest. She followed his gaze and saw the object of his interest - a simple chain hanging on Saya's neck, holding a ring of brass that felt oddly warm to the touch. Saya blinked. How long has this been here? She looked up and her gaze met Hermaeus Mora's, who asked no questions. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She could've sworn he was grinning.
Then, she felt the light touch of a tendril on her forehead. In an instant, she saw flashes of a vision from eyes that were not her own. A snow-covered valley hidden away among peaks she had seen before. A temple, walls stretching high into the clouds and falling down as burning rubble as the skies turned red with flame. Years passing, a distant rumble. The remains of the temple, buried in ashes that blacked out the sun. In its center, a tall obelisk - one of the stones of the Skaal.
Saya blinked, and once again found herself in the abyss with a single golden eye staring at her. "Knowledge for knowledge is the law of Apocrypha, Dragonborn. Remember that when you next seek me," he said and lifted a black tendril before himself. In the glint of his eye, Saya saw the ring that had been hanging from her neck. "Just this once, I shall permit you to borrow that which I own. When next you come, we may speak of your repayment."
"Borrow?" Instinctively, she reached up to where it used to be just moments ago, and grasped nothing but air. "What is that ring? What did you take?!" She shouted. Hermaeus Mora offered no answer, and the ring vanished into the darkness along with the tendril.
"I commend your curiosity, but I am afraid our time has come to an end," he said and immediately, Saya felt the abyss stretch before her as the golden eye before her suddenly seemed to grow farther and farther away. She reached out, though to no avail, as the Prince's words echoed around her. "Farewell, Dragonborn. We will meet again." With those words, the eye closed shut, leaving Saya in total darkness once more.
When next she opened her eyes, she found herself in Tel Mithryn, and the black book fell from her hands with a loud thud.