"What do you mean?"
Sheogorath laughed. "You'll be stopping the Greymarch. Altering the course of events, breaking the circle. A fly in the ointment. A new cause for a different effect. We're going to change things. No…" He looked away, suddenly distracted. "… Things will be different this time around."
I frowned, but an instant later he was looking back at me with a grin as if nothing had happened. "You'll be my Champion. You'll grow powerful. You'll grow to be me. Prince of Madness, a new Sheogorath. Or you'll die trying. I love that about you."
I made a noise somewhere between disgust and confusion. Me? A Daedric Prince? No, no, no.
"How can a mortal even become a Daedric Prince?"
"A fair question. You won't, really. At least I don't think so." He shrugged. "But you'll have power. My power. Try not to lose it. It's a pain to replace. But, for all intents and purposes, you'll be Me. A Me to fight the Him since I won't be around. It's simple really, if you don't think about it."
I crossed my arms and regarded him warily. "Why trust me with your precious power?"
"Because you seem a nice enough sort. And you've made it this far." He laughed and added, "And if you don't, I'll swallow your soul and vomit it into the Everfilling Chamberpot of the Ageless." His face abruptly turned dark, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "But mostly because I asked nicely."
"If I do this… will you let my mother go?"
Sheogorath scoffed. "You're not exactly in a position to be negotiating. But yes. Yes, I will let the damsel go free."
I swallowed hard, knowing I had no choice.
"And where will you be through all of this?" I asked.
"Not here. Didn't I say that? I'm never here when Jyggalag walks. It's one of the Rules. I've told you too much for now. Listen to me prattle on. I can see your mortal brain straining. We'll talk more later."
"So what now?"
He pointed to one of the palace windows. "You've seen the Great Torch that burns brightly over New Sheoth? No? Because it doesn't. It should, but it doesn't. You'll fix that."
He got up and strode over to the window, looking out of it in an almost thoughtful way. His cane tapped absently against the floor.
"You'll go to Cylarne and bring back the Flame of Agnon to relight the torch. Oh… and take care with my minions there. In their eternal quest to please me, they're constantly fighting over the place. It can be tiresome. But, really, it's divine. Divinely tiresome." He clapped his hands together. "Well, that's your problem now. Off with you. I don't want to see you again until the Great Torch is lit. I wouldn't want to have to hurt you. Much."
Cylarne was little more than a crumbling ruin on a small island connected to the mainland only by a rickety bridge. Dark towers loomed above me and dead, twisted vines covered the walls. A Mazken guard was standing near the entrance. She drew her sword at my approach.
"State your business," she barked. "Cylarne is holy ground, unfit for mortals."
"I've been sent by Sheogorath to light the Flame of Agnon," I told her.
She sheathed her blade and bowed her head slightly in response to my words. "Then you are free to enter the Shrine. The Flame of Agnon is lit from the Shrine's two Altars. Once the Aureals are driven out of Cylarne, it will be our pleasure to light the Flame for Sheogorath. The Grakedrig Ulfri will explain everything. You should speak to her at once."
Turning, she unlocked a gate leading further into the ruin and gestured to the courtyard beyond. On the other side was an elaborately embossed metal door set into the wall. I passed through the gate and the door to descend a flight of stairs into the ruin. Below were a series of halls lit by sconces and chandeliers filled with emerald-green flames. I stepped around and over the large chunks of stone from crumbled places in the walls and ceiling. Another Mazken approached, blocking my way and glaring at me suspiciously.
"What is your business here?"
"Sheogorath sent me," I sighed for the second time.
"Then I am at your service. The Grakedrik Ulfri commands here. You will wish to speak to her at once, no doubt."
"Yes. Take me to her."
The Mazken led me down a hallway to a set of chambers filled with more of the guards. I ascended a set of stairs, feeling their eyes on me. A single Mazken broke away. The design on her armor was more elaborate than that of the rest. Her helmet was tucked under her arm.
"Begone, mortal," she told me in an imperious voice, "or you will soon find yourself between the Mazken and their prey. A most dangerous place to be."
"Prey?"
She sniffed. "We are preparing to wipe out the arrogant Aureals once and for all. Once they break themselves on our defenses, Cylarne will be ours, a gift for our Lord Sheogorath."
"I need to light the Flame of Agnon," I said.
Ulfri looked me over carefully. Then she smiled. "Then you have arrived just in time to help us defend the Altar of Despair. Once the strength of the Aureals is shattered, I will be honored to light the Flame as my Lord Sheogorath commands."
"What's the plan?"
"We are expecting the Aureals to attack any moment. They'll come down the main passage from the Altar of Rapture. They always do." She pointed to a doorway leading to another room. "They are overconfident, as usual. We have prepared many traps and ambushes. It will be a glorious slaughter. Once the Aureals are destroyed, I will light the Flame of Agnon for you. Will you help us defend the Altar of Despair?"
I nodded.
"This will be a glorious day! Cylarne will finally be free of the Aureals. Follow me. We're expecting the attack at any moment." Ulfri led me through into the next room, calling out as she put on her helmet, "Mazken! Into your positions!"
Everyone formed up. The archers stayed on a bridge over the hall below and drew their bows. I joined them and watched another group of archers get into place on a balcony to the right. The fighters appeared in the hall below, waiting in columns with their swords and maces ready. Several ran ahead, vanishing down the hall. Everyone watch in silence. After a few minutes I heard the sound of marching footsteps in the distance.
The air was suddenly rent with shouts and screams along with distant whirring and snapping noises. Those were traps Ulfri had mentioned. Several Aureals appeared at the end of the hall, covered in blood. I saw that several of them were already badly injured.
"The Aureals are beginning their attack!" Ulfri shouted. "Show them no mercy! Today, Cylarne shall finally belong to us!"
I fired, hitting one of the Aureals at the front of the host. The Mazken charged, shouting battle cries, and the hall descended into chaos. I shot the attackers that I could while trying to avoid accidentally hitting the Mazken warriors. Dark blood sprayed everywhere as they tore into each other. Spells flew, flashing brightly and leaving scorch marks on the walls when they missed their targets. Several of the Aureals broke through the fight and sprinted for the stairs leading into our part of the ruin. The archer abruptly ran back toward them, drawing their swords. I followed them.
Fighting broke out on the stairs leading up to where we'd just come from. One of the Aureals avoided the rest of the Mazken and made her way toward me. I swung my bow, hitting her across the face. As she staggered back I drew an arrow and quickly shot her down.
Once they were all dead Ulfri barked orders at the Mazken. Several of them ran toward the hallway that the Aureals had come from. I followed Ulfri and the rest into the Shrine. One by one they knelt down all around the chamber, clasping their hands together and bowing their heads. As I passed, I heard them humming softly. We ascended a flight of stairs leading up to the altar platform. The back wall of the shrine was lined with statues and a number of old urns. Even more of the Mazken huddled around the altar itself. Ulfri stopped and turned to look at me.
"Victory is ours. I have already instructed my subordinates to kindle the Altar of Rapture. It is my honor to sacrifice myself on the Altar of Despair at Lord Sheogorath's command."
I stared at her, shocked and more than a little horrified at the prospect.
"Sacrifice yourself?" I asked her.
She nodded proudly. "The Altars which feed the Flame of Agnon can be kindled only by the willing death of an immortal. I have hoped for this moment since I took command of the Mazken at Cylarne. I return my soul to the embrace of Oblivion's dark waters. Farewell."
I watched as she passed through the throng, the other Mazken reaching out to touch her as she passed, and stepped onto the Altar. Turning, she drew her black sword. Her gaze lifted skyward and she raised her arms over her head. The humming from the Mazken grew louder, becoming a chant. As it reached its peak, Ulfri plunged her sword into her stomach and sank to her knees.
Dark blood dripped onto the Altar. A column of green fire flared to life, consuming her, and roared up into a hole in the ceiling.
I left the suddenly quiet crowd, going back through the ruin and out into the courtyard. A tower at the center of the ruin was filled with a roaring flame of orange mingled with green. The Flame of Agnon, obviously. I stared at it, not quite sure what to do.
"Take the Flame in your hand," the Mazken guard from earlier said. "Take it, and bring it to the Sacellum Arden-Sul in New Sheoth."
Closing my eyes and bracing myself, I reached out to touch the fire. It stung as it licked over my fingers. I winced. Opening my eyes, I pulled hand out of the fire to find it undamaged, but coated in the twisted, dual-colored flames.
When I stepped into the Sacellum Arden-Sul I almost gagged on the smell of mingled incense and what I thought might be rotting flesh. It was like a chapel. Rows of pews led up to the altar at the other end of the room. The stained glass windows set into the walls looked down onto Bliss on one side and Crucible on the other. As I walked inside, I had to step around puddles of blood that stained the wood paneled floor. I looked up to see corpses several corpses hanging from the ceiling. My nose wrinkled in disgust.
Really, I shouldn't have been surprised.
Two priests were arguing at the other end of the chapel: a Bosmer in red and gold hooded robes and a Nord in faded dark green robes. They looked up at my approach, their eyes fixing on the fire in my hand, and they nearly tripped over themselves to get to me first. I barely resisted the urge to draw my sword and skewer them both.
The Bosmer made it to me first, wheezing hard. "You've brought it! The holy Flame of Agnon the fire of Inspiration and Rapture!"
"No! She burns with the flame of Truth, the flickering beacon of hope in the gloom of despond!" The Nord said as he pushed him aside. "Come, light the Great Torch for Dementia. Illuminate the conspiracies! Deepen the shadows! The people of Crucible await their Hero!"
I looked between the two of them, not particularly thrilled with either prospect. But, I supposed it was only fair to give it to Dementia because of the Mazken.
"Fine. Let's get this over with," I said to the Nord priest.
He nodded and led me over to a small shrine built into the wall at the back of the Sacellum. "Release yourself to your secret fears and desires. Let them rule you, as they must in the end!" Pulling the grate covering the shrine aside, he gestured to it. "Now, light the Great Torch as a beacon for those who fear and those who inspire fear."
He stepped back and I reach in, touching the basin inside. The orange fire instantly died, but the green latched on, roaring to life. It was done. I turned back to see the Nord looking smugly at the Bosmer.
"I'm not talking to you," the Bosmer grumbled, crossing his arms.
That was when I heard the sound of someone slowly clapping. As I rounded the altar, I saw Sheogorath sitting in one of the pews. I approached the Madgod warily.
"Aren't you off to a good start!" He said brightly. "That's important. For me. Really, your work is going to save me a lot of time."
My lips pursed. "How?"
"The Greymarch is upon us, and the Ordering begins. Armies of Order sweep My Realm. Death. Destruction. Then I have to pick up the pieces." He let out a long sigh at the prospect. "And there are always lots of pieces. I don't like it, having to rebuild My Realm every era. Sometimes I forget where things go. Like New Sheoth. I can never remember where it belongs…"
He stood and walked down the sacellum, stopping before the altar.
"You'll change that. Break the cycle. You'll stop Jyggalag, and I'll have My Realm to come back to. I've never actually tried that before."
"I can stop the Greymarch?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
The Daedric Prince shrugged. "Why not? Something has to work. Once, I dug a pit and filled it with clouds. Or was it clowns? It doesn't matter. It didn't slow him down." He clasped his hands behind him and rocked back onto his heels. "To be honest, it wasn't the best idea. And it really began to smell. Must have been clowns. Clouds don't smell bad. They taste of butter! And tears."
He turned back to face me, stretching arms out to the sides as he cried, "But this is all new! A fresh idea! Something I hadn't thought of, until I did. It's sure to work, even though it might not."
Not the most cheerful thought. "So. What now?"
"Now? You'll need the respect of My citizens. They'll need a leader, someone to look up to when I'm gone. They're the backbone of any great land. Except where the backbone is an actual backbone. Ever been to Malacath's realm?"
When I shook my head he shuddered in response.
"Nasty place. But, back to the business at hand. You'll need to control one of the Courts of Madness. Replace a current Duke… or Duchess. That will command respect! The people will rally around you. You'll have their love, their admiration, their complaints!" He waved his hand in a vague gesture. "Whatever. As long as it keeps them on Our side. Once I'm gone, things usually get bad quickly. Lots of defections. Lots of carnage. But with you at the helm things will be different! This time I'll beat him. I can't stand losing. And I don't mind cheating."
"Won't the current holders of those positions be displeased?" I asked flatly.
"No. No, no, no. Absolutely not." There was a long pause as he seemed to consider the thought. "Well… yes. Absolutely. Bit of a shame for them. But sometimes you need to break a few eggs. Or skulls. There are rules, though. Even in the Isles. Rituals and rules. You need to follow them. Speak to Arctus and Dervenin, the High Priests. They can explain what needs to be done."
