Emmy Moriel found herself climbing the steep, rocky, and treacherous path up to the Temple of Miraak: and not for the first time that month.
No, she'd taken the journey four times already since she had last been to Apocrypha, but only in the dead of night. This was the first time she was going in the morning, at the crack of dawn.
Emmy sighed throwing a glance at the sunrise behind her bathing the world in a dusty pink purple colour. She felt lonely watching the sun begin to rise and cast its golden rays of early light on the mountainside, so very alone.
The Dragonborn shook her head and continued pushing forward through the snow and ruff winds.
Once at the temple she quickly spotted cultists and ducked behind a pillar, resting one hand against her chest to control her breathing she began allowing the blueish-pink invisibility spell to build up in her palm.
For two months it had been like this, she'd climb the mountain and turn invisible, then slip by and go inside where she could feel . . . she knew if she killed them that someone would notice and she couldn't afford for that to happen.
After another few minutes the spell finished building up and Emmy quickly, but quietly cast it over herself. Then, slipping from behind her pillar she darted down the stairs and slid through the iron doors without a sound.
It wasn't until the last Dragonborn found her way to Miraak's old throne room that she finally allowed herself to relax.
He was watching her, he had missed her nonsensical talking . . . he supposed.
He stared down at the bowl as her features caused the water to ripple across the surface of the mirror.
Emmy turned, her candlelight casting a gold and silver light to shimmer around the room. Between the light of her aura and the shadows she looked delicate, the shadows making her mahogany hair look even darker, while the light gave her skin an almost golden glow.
"I know you're there," she said coming toward his throne with a candle in hand, she knelt down placing it on the third step before standing straight again with an arm folded against her stomach.
"Well, not necessarily there, but I can feel you . . . in a way," she bit her lip as her gaze turned to the stones beneath her feet.
Emmy looked around at the ancient carvings that decorated the hall, and not for the first time, she found herself wondering what the story was behind each one. Did they tell of what exactly happened to Miraak? Did they tell of his walk through Nirn?
She stepped away from the throne and toward a pillar with what looked to be a screaming dragon with a sword driven through its neck carved in the stone.
She ran her fingers along the edges as delicately as she could without disturbing the stone, a fine layer of dust fell away though causing her to sneeze.
Emmy let out a soft laugh and shook her head, "what did you do?"
Miraak watched as she walked around his throne room studying the carvings on the walls and whistling sweet toons to herself.
He couldn't help but be fascinated by her.
"You know," she said coming back before the throne, she seemed to act as though he were there . . . on it. "You were quite the rebellious one," she smiled as she said that, "but I do disapprove of enslaving an island of innocent people."
Miraak sighed running a hand along his mask, the annoying part about this thing was he could see and hear her, but she couldn't see and hear him.
"But I can't judge you for something I don't completely understand."
"Miraak," she whispered his name after a long moment of silence, "I don't belong here," she said looking up with sapphire tears in her eyes.
The Atmoran just stared as she leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees and letting her head hang low, her hair falling around her face like a curtain.
"People expect me to be some big strong warrior, but I'm not, I'm me. They want me to save them, and bring them honor, but I can't. I am Emmy Moriel, a lost mage girl from Wayrest," she looked back up her face wet with tears.
He just stared into the rippling water with nothing but endurance for her, but he couldn't ignore that strange feeling . . . no, pull? He was unsure.
"I know you don't care just as I know you can hear me," she croaked out running a slender hand down her face, "I'm sorry," she whispered.
As she lifted her head, the candlelight reflected off her eyes creating a silvery reflection in the deep blue. "If I went now this would be just as long as the others before, but," her voice trailed off as she looked down yet again tracing her fingers along the stone floor.
"But something makes me want to stay, even if I get caught."
Emmy's blue eyes traced their way back over the room again. "I long for the stories this place holds," she said to an empty room, "Miraak?" She was on her feet in seconds, she felt it, the faint touch of his presence leave her.
Mora, she thought bitterly: he was behind it, every bloody time.
There she was, it had been so long.
He watched her from his bowl as she entered.
Emmy walked into the throne room smiling, but today, or tonight? She wore a white floral nightgown that swirled around her ankles as she approached the throne with her candle in hand.
"Hello," she said in a soft voice setting the candle on the third step as always, "I assume you are well?" She stood her long hair falling down around her to frame her face.
As she stepped back the silvery light of her spell caught off her skin making her look Altmeri, he wondered about her.
Emmy tilted her head back still smiling. "I told Master Neloth that I felt as though I had once lived before, he told me I was nuts and made me leave," she was laughing, but in a way, it sounded forced.
Miraak hadn't laughed in sentries.
Emmy's blue eyes traveled over the room, nothing had changed from two weeks ago, not even the layers of dust she had touched.
The next part of the plan was wearing heavily on her mind, they . . . the Skaal needed her to-- she had begged Storn to give up their secrets to Hermaeus Mora, she still felt terrible after the fact.
"They want me to kill you," she said keeping her back turned as she sank to the cool stones below, "I know what Mora wants, I am no fool, he wants to replace you with me."
After a long while of silence, her soft voice filled the void again. "I understand why worship is necessary. . . but . . . sometimes it feels- . . . selfish."
He had heard those words once before from a Nedic woman, lady Aquila: he had forgotten her first name . . . last name? All he remembered after she ranted about the gods and worshiping she became an avatar.
That's when Miraak leaned forward gripping the sides of his mirror and watching her closely. He was unsure, he had heard of Dragonborns being reincarnations of gods or divine heroes, or even . . . she had said something about feeling as though she had lived already before. Was she? Could she be? Was it possible?
"I will not serve a Daedric prince. I will not fall victim to the knowledge I hunger for," she turned, a look of determination written across her face, "we all wonder about the Dwemer, don't we? But I doubt even Hermaeus Mora knows what happened at . . . at Red Mountain with the Heart."
As her gaze came level with a carving of a wolf behind the throne, a frown was creasing her brow.
Miraak shook his head, he didn't care. In order for him to be free he had to kill her, and he would do so, nothing would stop him.
"I wonder," said Emmy as she bounced her ball of light between her hands casting silver light and darkened shadows to dance across her face, "oh-h," a slender hand went to her mouth as an aha expression crossed her features, "I have an idea!"
The candle at her feet flickered before going out as a cold draft entered the room.
Emmy smiled, the silvery gold light making her face glow. "When we meet next, we will be enemies, I suppose," she shook her head at herself, "not that we stopped. I do hope you can hear me."
Miraak watched as she released the light from her palm to float above her head as she slipped in between the pillars as silently as she could.
The next time they met she'd fight him to the death while trying to scheme against Hermaeus Mora, with Goldbrand in one hand and the fate of Tamriel in the other.