I stared at the spot where Sheogorath had been only moments before. Divines have mercy, that was…

"He is gone, but hope is not lost," Haskill said quietly. "We have a rare opportunity here, but I hesitate to do what must be done."

I looked at him. "Anything."

"If the Throne of Madness remains empty when Jyggalag storms the palace, he will prevail. But there is a chance the throne may not be empty."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm not a Daedric Prince."

"True, but perhaps you can hold the throne… provided that you possess the proper symbol of office. Namely the Staff of Sheogorath. The Staff is the symbol of power in this Realm. He who rightfully holds the Staff may hold the throne of the Shivering Isles."

Or she, in my case.

"Unfortunately," Haskill went on, "when Sheogorath faded, the power of the Staff faded with him. It must now be remade. However, the secrets of its construction are lost."

I rounded on him and spat, "Lost? You said there was hope!"

"That which is lost can be found again," he told me, unfazed by my outburst. "There is one being in the Shivering Isles who may be able to assist you in the construction of a new Staff. The ruins of Knifepoint Hollow once served as a great library. There, you will find a door. Behind that door, you will find the answer you seek. Although…"

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"I hesitate to guide you towards this path. The secrets of the past will surely aid Jyggalag, but I fear that we have no other choice." He let out a long sigh. "Be mindful of what you find there. The library is a thing of Order, and it will still serve that end. Take this crystal. It contains the power to open the sealed door. Inside, you will find the final remnants of the library."

The steward handed me a small crystal. I held on tightly to it, feeling the faceted edges cut into my palms. This was the last chance.

"How do I find this Knifepoint Hollow?" I asked.

"It is near the core of the Shivering Isles. Follow the setting sun to the border of Mania. Climb the cliff there to the top. At the peak, you will find Knifepoint Hollow."

A Mazken rushed in at that moment, her eyes wide.

"Your Grace! What–"

"I want a troop sent to guard Fellmore. Keep the armies of Order out at all costs. Now!" I barked at her. She hurried away and I said in a quieter voice, mostly to myself, "I have a Staff to rebuild."


Following Haskill's instructions, I found myself at the base of an old, dead tree. Crawling beneath the roots, I found an old door at the very bottom. With some effort, I pushed it aside and quickly slipped inside.

After walking for several minutes, the root tunnels let out into an ancient ruin that looked like it hadn't been touched in millennia. It was so dark that I could barely see where I was going.

At the end of one passage I found a sealed door that hummed with magic. It must have been the one that Haskill spoke of. Pulling out the crystal, I set it into a slot in the center of the door. The moment I did, all the magic drained away and the stone instantly crumbled. Drawing my bow, I stepped inside.

Beyond the door was a tiny chamber that was practically empty, save for a withered man sitting on a crumbling wooden chair at the very center. He stared down at his hands, which rested folded in his lap. I approached warily, my arrow trained on his head. Slowly he looked up at me with dead silver eyes.

"I have been waiting for you, Mara Fides," he said in a voice as cracked and dry as ancient bones.

I drew back the arrow. "How did you know I'd come?"

"This day, as all days before and after, is well known to me. There are no surprises to Dyus of Mytheria. Sheogorath has fallen and you seek the means to foil the machinations of the Prince of Order. You seek the Throne of Madness. However, no mortal may sit upon the throne without the Staff. So here you are in my prison, seeking to supplant the one who placed me here. If you wish to take the place of Sheogorath, then ask me what you will."

I lowered my bow slightly. "Who are you?"

He sighed. "You were expecting a book. An ancient tome filled with the secrets that you seek. But, instead, you have found me. The last remnant. Individuality is an illusion. The details of my existence are no more important than the history of a stone. However, if you insist: I once served as the keeper of the great library of Jyggalag. Contained within its walls were the logical predictions of every action ever taken by any creature, mortal or Daedric." He sounded almost bored. "Every birth. Every death. The rise of Tiber Septim. The Numidium. Everything. All predicted with the formulae found within Jyggalag's library."

"Then what happened to this place?"

"When Sheogorath discovered the library he had it burned, insisting that it was an abomination and that personal choice defied logical prediction. I am all that remains of the knowledge contained within the great library of Jyggalag."

"I've heard enough," I snapped. "Tell me how to rebuild the Staff."

"I can create the physical shell of the Staff, but the divine essence must be gathered elsewhere. But apotheosis is no simple matter and the creation of the staff is no simple task." He shook his head at the thought. "I will require two sacred items in order to complete it."

More things to fetch. Great. "What are these… sacred items?"

"The Shivering Isles hold many secrets, but few remain unseen by mortal eyes. The Staff is a tool of great vision and thus requires the eye of one who has witnessed on of these unseen secrets firsthand. Ciirta resides in the Howling Halls of Mania. Find her and bring me the eye that has seen that which no other has."

"And the other?"

"The trees and branches of this Realm feed from a deep font of madness and mystery. One of the oldest trees, named the Tree of Shades, lies in the halls of Milchar. Milchar is a place of ruin, root, and mania. Go there and bring me a branch of this tree, but be warned: the tree will not surrender its secrets to one who has not earned them. It is said that the tree feeds from waters of the Grove of reflection. The grove can show men who they truly are. Only after facing the truth will the Tree of Shades give up its branches to you."

"So you're saying that, if I get you these things, you can rebuild the Staff?" I asked slowly.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Only then can I create an appropriate vessel to hold the power that is inherent in the lord of this realm. The Staff may allow you to occupy the Throne of Madness, but understand that such a feat has never been attempted. All sources indicate that you will fail. It is a certainty. However, I also predict that this will not stop you from trying."

"You're damn right it won't."


Getting Ciirta's eye had been easy enough. She only had the one, right in the middle of her forehead. It made my skin crawl to look at it. I'd cut it out and hurried on my way, wanting to be out of the Howling Halls as quickly as I could. The odd paintings scattered around the temple were… unnerving.

I walked along a long, ruined wall and passed through the first opening I found. Supposedly Milchar was somewhere nearby. When I saw the giant tree, I instantly made my way toward it.

Like Knifepoint Hollow, the tree had a system of tunnels between its roots. Keeping to the shadows, I avoided the few elytra that I saw skulking about. A cluster of thick roots at the very center led down a hole and even deeper into the ground. Grasping them firmly, I climbed down.

Jumping down the last couple of feet, I made my way down the tunnel at the bottom. It was narrower than the others, barely wide enough for me to walk without having to squeeze through. In the distance I thought I heard the steady sound of dripping water. Turning a corner, I saw a dim light ahead.

The tunnel led out into a large, domed hollow filled with plants. At the center of the hollow water dripped down into a shallow pool. In the middle was a standing stone covered with glowing runes. A short tree covered with scraggly branches grew near the edge. That was what I was looking for, I was sure of it.

I cautiously took a few steps forward. My foot had barely touched the water when an explosion of light ripped from the stone. There was a loud roaring sound as the light flew to land on the pool's bank. As it did, a cloud of black smoke rose from where it had made contact. The smell of burning filled the air. I coughed.

"Well, well, well," a voice said from the smoke. "If it isn't the little heroine."

The voice was familiar. Too familiar. The woman who had spoken was still hidden by smoke and shadows. My eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" I asked.

Even when she finally stepped out into the light, she was shrouded in a thin sort of darkness. But I could still make out the thick, wavy red hair that fell around her pale face and over her shoulders. The gray eyes that stared out at me from the gloom. My breath hitched.

"I'm you," she said. "Or, more accurately: a better, stronger version of you."

She stalked around me. I drew my sword, turning to keep her in view. She laughed coldly and spoke several words in a language I didn't understand. And yet… they sounded so familiar, almost like a half-forgotten memory. Why? She flicked her wrist and suddenly her hand was filled with blazing fire. I froze, staring at her in shock. I couldn't… I couldn't do that.

"You know nothing," she sneered. "You're weak. Powerless."

Snapping out of my daze, I raised my sword and growled, "We'll see about that."

I dodged the fireball she threw at me and it exploded against the wall. Ducking through the plants growing around the hollow, I tried to keep her in sight. But she was just as fast and quickly slipped away into the shadows. I crouched low, waiting.

Her voice rang out from somewhere nearby, "You are such a failure. Da is dead because you were stupid and wandered too far from home. Ma is trapped here because you wouldn't help her. Martin is dead because he had to fall in love with you. Love is a weakness. It destroyed him, and it will destroy you."

"Shut up!"

I jumped out of the bushes just as the fireball struck where I'd just been standing. Whirling to face her, I stepped into a defensive position. My shadow just shook her head, almost pityingly.

I was suddenly knocked backward by an invisible force and landed hard on my back. My sword flew out of reach. As I lay there, gasping for breath, she appeared over me. Kneeling down, she gripped the front of my raiment and dragged me up into a sitting position.

"Don't you understand?" She said. Her voice – my voice – was harsh and low. "After all that time in the Guild, after what happened during the Crisis, after what's happening right now. I am what you were always meant to become. You can't run from it. You can't fight it. I am your inevitability!"

"Never," I spat.

When I swung my fist at her she caught it. I wrenched her arm around and swung my leg, knocking hers out from underneath her. Rolling out of the way, I snatched up my sword and staggered to my feet. She did as well. Before she could respond, I stabbed her.

Everything went silent, save for the dripping of the water droplets falling into the pool beside us. She stared at me. Then a smile crept onto her face.

Leaning in closer, blood dripping from her grinning lips, she sneered, "It begins."

She crumpled, her sightless eyes staring at the ceiling of the cavern, before fading back into shadowy smoke once more. I stood there, shaking. Dyus had said that the grove would test me by showing me what I truly was, but that couldn't be…

Taking a deep breath and shoving the thought from my mind, I sheathed my sword and snapped a branch from the tree. That was what I had come for. That was all that mattered.


When I returned to Knifepoint Hollow, I saw that Dyus hadn't moved from that spot, despite the door still being unsealed. I suddenly wondered if the man could walk at all. He had to be ancient.

"You have the items," he said. Somehow, he seemed almost surprised. Almost. "Contrary to all prediction. Once again, you defy the path set out before you. However, what comes next is now unclear. If you wish to confront what is to come, I shall create the Staff for you. Afterward, you must take it to the seat of power in the Shivering Isles: the Palace of Sheogorath. There, imbue the Staff with power from the Font of Madness. Soak the Staff in the waters of the land, and it will open its full power to you."

He took the branch and the eye from me with pale, trembling hands. As he worked, he murmured to himself, "You have defied the expected and accomplished something that defies all logic. I must contemplate the error in my calculations…"

"My choices are my own."

"Perhaps you are an irregularity," he mused.

"A mistake, you mean," I snapped.

"Yes. Now…" He held out the finished Staff to me. "Take your treasure and leave me."

I snatched it away from him, grimacing when I saw the bloody eye. Trying hard not to look too closely at it, I left the ruins of the library.