A/N: This chapter marks the end of the daily updates, because today was my first day back to school. :/ I'll try to post once every week from here on out, but once homework and everything starts, it may be less often than that. We'll see. And...on to the notes. For those of you who don't know this, the Daedric Princes are neither male nor female, so when Vaermina is referred to as a Prince and then directly after that as a she, that's what's up. Many thanks to my beta reader (and sister) GrowlingPeanut. Reviews are appreciated.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It all belongs to George R. R. Martin and Bethesda Softworks. Specifically, almost all of Erandur's dialogue is from in-game (therefore belonging to Bethesda) but I did tweak it and add stuff and manage to kinda make it my own (I think).
Rating: M for language, dark themes and the consumption of alcohol.
It was nearly dawn when Arya arrived at the Windpeak Inn, weary, irritable, and trying desperately to find an escape from the inner demons biting at her heels. The latter she found in the form of a strong, red wine, ordering a flagon when she arrived and slumping down onto the nearest bench with an audible sigh.
Her solitude lasted only a moment before a Dark Elf wearing the robes of Mara seated himself beside her and peered at her from beneath his hood.
"What brings you to Dawnstar?"
Arya snorted and took a long drink of wine straight from the flagon. "My destiny."
"Ah...then our reasons for being in this accursed place are the same."
Glancing over at her companion, Arya raised an eyebrow and prompted him to elaborate. "What is it that the gods have in store for you?"
He sighed sadly. "That, I am not sure. You see, the entire town is being plagued by horrible nightmares. They're in serious danger but I'm afraid there's little I can do about it. And yet I must stay until Mara shares her wisdom with me and I am able to be of service for the tortured souls who live here."
"I've heard of this curse," Arya admitted, filling her tankard and watching the bubbles rise to the surface. "Though not of its cause."
"These dreams are manifestations created by Vaermina," the Dunmer began solemnly. "She has an awful hunger for our memories. In return, she leaves behind nightmares, not unlike a cough marks a serious illness. Somehow, I must end her terrible influence over these people before the damage becomes permanent."
Arya fought the chill that passed over her. "Vaermina? The Daedric prince?"
"Aye. Vaermina resides in a strange realm known as Quagmire...a nightmarish land where reality shifts upon itself in seemingly impossible ways. From her citadel at the center, she reaches forth to collect our memories, leaving nothing in return apart from visions of horror and despair. What she does with them, I do not know, nor can I say that I truly want to. Perhaps she collects them for display like works of art in a nonsensical art gallery. Whatever the case may be, her intentions are far from benevolent."
She thought about that for a moment and couldn't help but wonder if the destiny that Jaqen H'ghar had spoken of might intertwine with that of the priest of Mara. 'Jaqen H'ghar is of an order far older than that of which you speak. An ancient guild only recently restored to its former glory.' Could he even be a priest of Vaermina? Was it her destiny to destroy the Daedric prince or to help her?
Pushing the thought aside, she took another drink of wine and then sighed. "And how do you intend to solve this problem?"
"I need to return to the source of the problem, to Nightcaller Temple. Perhaps you'd be willing to assist me in that regard?"
Arya looked at him in sudden suspicion, her eyes narrowed. "You said, return..."
The Dunmer priest looked around furtively and then lowered his voice. "I've already said too much. If anyone overhears what we're saying, it could start a panic. I would simply ask that you trust me and help me end Dawnstar's nightmares."
Arya hesitated. If it would somehow end her own nightmares, and at least grant her a momentary peace during her stay in Dawnstar, she was willing to try. "Alright. I'll do what I can."
"Oh, Mara be praised! Nightcaller Temple is only a short walk from Dawnstar. Come, we must hurry." He stood up and pulled her up after him, hurrying her toward the door.
"You must be the sign from Mara that I have been waiting for," he said, his red eyes shining in excitement. "Tell me, child, what is your name?"
"Arya. Of House Stark."
If he was surprised, he didn't show it and instead merely offered a hand to shake. "Well then, pardon me, Lady Arya. I was so caught up in your arrival that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Erandur. I am a priest of Lady Mara, may She guide us on our quest."
Any attempt to respond on her behalf was cut short as he began to speak again.
"That tower on the hill is our destination. The people here call it the Tower of Dawn. I'm not familiar with its history, as it was built long before my birth, but I do know that it was deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established inside. Even when the temple was active, the priests would rarely be seen in Dawnstar. They preferred to live a solitary existence. Anyway, the temple's been abandoned for decades now. Ironic isn't it...a ruin within a ruin?"
He glanced toward Arya and she nodded in agreement.
"There's a small shrine to Mara I established inside the tower's entry hall. I was hoping to seek spiritual guidance from Her. I do believe my prayers were answered and your reason for stumbling across Dawnstar is more than a mere coincidence. Follow me, it's this way."
They began the short trek up the hillside toward the tower and Erandur took a deep breath. "It feels good to finally have a chance to help these people. Helplessly watching them suffer has been difficult."
The heavy wooden door to the tower yielded under his touch with a groan and Erandur's words took on a warning tone as they entered into the darkness before them.
"I would advise caution as we continue, child. Years ago, this temple was raided by an orc war party seeking revenge...they were being plagued by nightmares just like the people of Dawnstar."
"Were they successful?" Arya asked absently as she took in the small makeshift shrine to Mara in front of her.
"No. Knowing they could never defeat the orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call 'The Miasma'."
"And what exactly did that do?" From the way he was said it, she assumed it was nothing good.
"The Miasma was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep." He continued speaking as he walked toward the back wall of the room they were in. "Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process."
"So how is that a danger to us? If they're all asleep, they won't cause us any trouble."
Erandur frowned. "Well, I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll awaken; both orcs and priests alike." Before she could answer, he raised his hands to the wall and spoke an incantation. A flame sparked to life between them and then roared from his outstretched fingers in a powerful stream. After a moment, the stone yielded and he walked through to the other side, Arya following close behind.
"Now I can show you the source of the nightmares," he said grimly, leading her to the edge of the walkway they were on and gesturing toward the object in the area below them.
"Behold the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it." His tone lightened a bit and he put a hand to her elbow. "Come, there's no time to lose."
They hurried further along until they found their way blocked by some sort of magickal barrier. Erandur swore.
"Damn it. The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released."
Arya sighed, becoming increasingly unsure of her place in the events unfolding about her. "It certainly looks difficult to breach," she commented sardonically.
"Impossible actually," Erandur replied absently, studying it with a careful gaze as he stood before it and then suddenly breaking his contemplative silence. "Hmm...I wonder..." He turned toward her and narrowed his eyes. "There may be a way to bypass this barrier, but I must check the library to confirm that it can be done."
Arya regarded him suspiciously and held up a hand to stop him as he tried to move past her. "You seem to know an awful lot about this place, Erandur. Is there anything else that you think I should know, or should I just turn around and leave you to face this task on your own?" When he hesitated, she turned away.
"Wait. Don't go." He sighed heavily. "I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer. My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina."
Arya turned back to face him and raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"What would you have me say? That I'm sorry for following the misguided teachings of a mad Divine? For stealing memories from children?"
"That would be a good start."
Ignoring her reply, he continued, more to himself than to her. "When the orcs attacked, I was only concerned for myself. I...fled. And left my brothers and sisters behind to die." He was quiet for a moment before raising his gaze back to hers. "I've spent the last few decades living in regret and seeking redemption from Mara. And by Her Benevolence, I will right my wrongs. Now...make your choice. If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. This may yet be something I must face on my own."
All too familiar with the daunting task of facing one's failures, Arya felt compelled to stay and nodded to the library door by way of reply. "Let's go."
The half-rotted door to the library opened with a creak before allowing them passage into the musty and ransacked room that had once housed row upon row of books, tomes, and scrolls. Now, all that remained was the wreckage of the fight between the orcs and priests: burned books, shredded scrolls, tattered tapestries and lying unscathed about the room, bodies.
Just as she caught sight of the first one, it began to move, rising from its unnatural slumber and grasping for the sword at its side. Moving quickly from her spot behind Erandur, Arya beat the orc warrior to its weapon and drew her blade across its throat, earning a spray of blood that caught the Dunmer's attention.
"It seems my fears were founded," he murmured, gazing past Arya to something on the level below her.
She turned just in time to see three more bodies rising from the ground and regaining their bearings as they looked about at their surroundings. Erandur raised his hands and they sparked with an electrical crackle as he moved past her toward his former brothers and sisters.
"I'll take care of them; you try and locate the information I need." Before Arya could protest, he continued, glancing sharply around at the few remaining shelves with intact books. "We're looking for a book of alchemical recipes called The Dreamstride. The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover." He sighed sadly and kept one eye on the fight that had erupted beneath them between the recently awakened priests and orcs. "This library used to be filled with arcane volumes. Now look at it; almost everything's been burned. I certainly hope the tome we need is still intact."
With that, he left her to her search and she scrambled over the piles of charred books toward the only relatively unharmed section of the library.
The tome bears the likeness of Vaermina on the cover. Not for the first time, she wished she had paid closer attention to her lessons as a child. The days of her youth when she was supposed to have been with Sansa learning about the various deities of Tamriel were usually spent gazing out the window toward the training yard where their brothers fought with wooden swords. Arya had always longed to fight alongside them rather than having to endure another lesson from Septa Mordane.
Thankfully, her lack of attention as a child didn't hinder her progress as the first book she came across, lying dusty but unharmed on a pedestal, had the likeness of an exotic looking goddess on its deep purple cover.
"I think I found it!"
The sounds of the fighting below ended with one last scream of pain and after a tense moment of silence, Erandur appeared at the top of the stairs and hurried toward her.
"Let me see it." He took the book from her hands with a sort of cautious reverence and gingerly opened to the first page before breathing a sigh of relief. "Mara be praised!" His eyes scanned the pages for a few minutes before he gave a curt nod and closed it again. "There is a way past the barrier to the inner sanctum. It involves a recipe for a substance known as Vaermina's Torpor."
Arya raised her eyebrows. "Vaermina's Torpor? Is that some type of potion?"
Erandur nodded and tucked the book under his arm as he began to lead her back out to the door they'd entered from. "Yes. The Torpor grants an ability the priests of Vaermina called 'The Dreamstride.' It uses dreams to travel distances in the real world."
Arya frowned. "That's impossible."
"Oh, no, I assure you that it's not. The Dreamstride is well known in Vaerminian Lore." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Sadly, I have yet to see it function in person."
Sighing, Arya followed him back out into the main corridor. This is complete madness.
"Now, as a sworn priest of Mara, the elixir won't work for me," Erandur continued. "The Torpor will only work for Priests of Vaermina, or the unaffiliated."
"Me, I assume?" Arya asked drily. "And what exactly will this 'Dreamstride' feel like?"
Erandur shrugged slightly. "I'm not entirely sure. You'll be viewing the memory of another through your own eyes and supposedly, with your own body, though that point is widely debated. Whichever the case, those around you will perceive you as normal but you will find the words you utter may not be your own. Thanks to all of these odd principles, there is quite a lot of debate as to whether this is really a dream or just the machinations of Vaermina. As I said, I've never actually seen it attempted."
Arya sighed again. "And where is this Torpor supposed to be?"
"I believe there is a laboratory in the east wing," Erandur replied matter-of-factly. "If we proceed there, we should be able to locate a sample."
The door was quickly reached and Arya made sure to set the parameters for entry before Erandur could send her off to find something she knew nothing about. Not even dear old Septa Mordane could have prepared her for the likes of this.
"If there's anyone in there, I'll fight them. Since you know what this Torpor is supposed to look like, you begin searching. I'll help once the laboratory is safe."
Erandur nodded in agreement and let her go first, heading straight for a row of potions on the opposite wall as Arya drew her sword and plunged it into the heart of the first orc in her path before it even had the chance to awaken.
The next two were on her before she had a chance to turn and she whirled about, meeting them strike for strike as she fought against both steel and spells alike, everything Vilkas had taught her in the training yard coming back with startling clarity. Ducking beneath a well-aimed blow to her head, she pushed one of the orc warriors into the path of a devastating stream of fire before pulling her dagger from her hip and plunging it deep into the throat of the priestess that had cast it.
"You're dead," she muttered, yanking it free and reveling in the familiar feel of having a bloodied blade grasped firmly in her hand.
She looked up to see Erandur watching her with unmasked admiration. "Well. Now that they've been dealt with, we still need to find the Torpor. I have yet to find anything matching its description. It should be in a small bottle, very similar to any other potion I suppose. I believe I'll know it when I see it."
Arya looked around and grabbed the first bottle she saw, a thin maroon tinted one that was sealed with a cork. "Like this?"
Erandur peered down at it and then raised his eyebrows. "Exactly like that. I have to admit, I'm amazed you discovered a bottle intact; this place looks as though it was ransacked by the orcs." He traveled down the stairs to join her and squinted at the thick liquid sloshing about in the bottle.
"If I could do this myself, I would, but..." He looked down at her and then gestured toward the Torpor in her hand. "You need to guide us the rest of the way. Drink."
Uncorking the bottle, Arya hesitated for a moment and Erandur firmly urged her to continue.
"Dawnstar's fate rests in that tiny bottle. The longer we wait, the more damage Vaermina could be doing to those poor people. I understand your hesitation, but I promise you that it works."
Arya nodded slowly and then looked back up into his deep crimson eyes. "How will I know when to wake up?"
"I don't think you will," he admitted. "But I will watch over you as you slumber to ensure your safety. If I deduce anything is amiss, I will use my arts to bring you back. Otherwise, I am uncertain what will end your Dreamstride. Perhaps when Vaermina's curious appetite has been filled."
She cocked an eyebrow. "That's reassuring. So, this will be dangerous?"
Erandur sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I will not lie to you, there is some risk involved. The last time the Torpor was imbibed could have been decades ago. But I swear upon Lady Mara that I will do everything within my power to prevent any harm from befalling you."
Nodding again, she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. If anything were to happen, he would bring her back; she had to believe that. Before she could hesitate any further, she brought the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back. The last thing she was consciously aware of was the feel of the potion sliding thickly down her throat. And then, darkness.
When she came to, the room about her seemed hazy and far too bright to be any sort of reality. When she looked about, her head spun and she had to fight to remain standing, mentally staggering over to a wall for support though her body stayed firmly in place.
"The orcs have breached the inner sanctum, Brother Veren."
The voice came directly from her left and she looked toward it, coming face to face with a tall bearded Nord. Beside him stood a stern-looking Dunmer that replied gravely to his companion's warning.
"We must hold. We cannot allow the Skull to fall into their hands."
"But...no more than a handful of us remain, brother." The Nord glanced about nervously and Arya almost expected to see him cleaved in half by an orc charging in from an adjoining corridor.
"Then we have no choice. The Miasma must be released."
"The Miasma? But, brother..."
"We have no alternative," the Dunmer replied fiercely. "It is the will of Vaermina." With that, he turned and looked directly into Arya's eyes. "And what about you, Brother Casimir? Are you prepared to serve the will of Vaermina?"
Brother Casimir? Before she had the chance to respond, she felt her throat contract and a familiar voice issued forth from her lips.
"I have made my peace. I am ready."
With a start, she realized that the Dreamstride had placed her inside of the memories of none other than Erandur, formerly Brother Casimir, Devotee of Vaermina.
"Then it's decided," Veren continued. "Brother Casimir, you must activate the barrier and release the Miasma. Let nothing stop you." He turned back to address the Nord at his side. "Brother Thorek, we must remain here and guard this Skull with our lives if necessary."
"Agreed," Thorek replied grimly. "To the death."
Veren nodded and looked back toward Casimir. "Then let it be done. Farewell, my brothers."
He turned away and Arya stood still for a moment, unsure of where to go next. It seemed her hesitance was unnecessary as she was carried swiftly through the winding halls of Nightcaller Temple on Casimir's legs, moving unscathed past various battles between his brothers and the invading orcs before reaching the area just beyond the barrier that Erandur had sought to destroy.
Somehow, she managed to gain control of his limbs and upon catching sight of a chain just above a soul gem emitting a faint purple glow, she moved toward it and pulled with all her might, watching the magickal artifact spark to life just as the world around her dimmed and she was once again plunged into darkness.
"Arya! Arya!" Erandur's face came slowly into focus above her and Arya groaned, reaching a hand back to cradle her aching skull. At the first signs of life, the Dunmer's face lit up and he smiled widely. "It worked! Mara be praised!"
Arya blinked slowly and then sat up, looking around in confusion and subtly holding one hand out in front of herself to ensure that she had returned to her own body. "What happened?" she asked groggily, her voice coming out as a hoarse croak.
"You vanished after drinking the Torpor and materialized on the other side," Erandur responded, urging her to drink from the wineskin he was pushing to her chapped lips. "I have never seen anything quite like it."
"Neither have I," she managed to reply, pushing aside the wineskin and wiping away the bit that had trickled down her chin as she drank. "And yet it happened. Plain as day." She squinted at their surroundings and took the offered hand as she struggled to her feet. "Can we reach the inner sanctum now?"
Erandur nodded. "Yes. And reach it we must." He hurried off toward the steps down to the lower level, slowing only when he noticed how far behind Arya was. "We're so close I can taste it!"
The only thing Arya could taste was the sour reminder of the wine on her tongue and she hobbled after him, trying to get used to the feel of her own body again.
They reached the inner sanctum only to realize that they weren't alone. Arya was just as startled as Erandur was to see a familiar Nord and Dunmer standing in front of the Skull.
The priest of Mara approached slowly, as if in a trance.
"Veren...Thorek...you're alive!"
"No thanks to you, Casimir," Veren replied icily. Arya drew her sword.
"I no longer use that name," Erandur responded, his voice tinged with sadness. "I am Erandur, Priest of Mara."
"You're a traitor," Veren spat, his eyes shining bright with fury. "You left us to die and then ran before the Miasma took you."
Arya bristled with the strange need to defend her companion's honor. Something about living inside of his memories made her feel as though they had a connection. Almost as though she was now, or had always been, a part of his past.
"No. I...I was scared. I wasn't ready to sleep." She wasn't sure whether she or Erandur had spoken, but no one paid her any mind so she assumed it was the latter.
"Enough of your lies!" Veren shouted, his hands sparking to life. "I can't allow you to destroy the Skull, Priest of Mara." He spat out the title as though it were venom on his tongue.
Erandur's own hands emitted the familiar crackle of charging magicka and he stared down his former brothers with steely resolve. "Then you leave me no choice."
Before Arya could move to his aid, Veren and Thorek were enveloped in a cloak of flame and only the beating of her own heart drowned out the sound of their tortured screams.
When their cries finally died, Arya rushed to Erandur's aid, supporting him as he fell weakly against her side.
"I...knew Veren and Thorek," he began quietly. "They were my friends. Is this punishment for my past? Is it Mara's will to torment me so?"
Arya couldn't help but find herself wondering the same questions as the blasphemous priest. Was Vilkas' death some sort of punishment devised by the gods? Was that what Jaqen had sent her to learn?
"They may have been right," she mused in a whisper. "Perhaps...perhaps we shouldn't destroy the Skull..." Perhaps they could use it as a way to get revenge upon the gods that had served them as nothing more than divine torturers. Perhaps, that was their shared destiny.
"No." Erandur's voice regained its strength and the conviction in his tone shook Arya from her own trance.
"You mustn't listen to them. They speak only lies and deception. Had we aided them in releasing the Skull, they would have used it to wreak havoc upon Skyrim. They...they had to die." He took a deep breath and then turned to face the grotesquely grinning staff.
"It is time. The Skull must be destroyed. If you'll stand back, I'll perform the ritual granted to me by Lady Mara."
As Arya backed away, Erandur fell to his knees and touched his forehead to the ground, laying his hands out before him. "I call upon you, Lady Mara! The Skull hungers. It yearns for memories and leaves nightmares in its wake. Grant me the power to break through..."
His voice began to fade and Arya was suddenly aware of a whisper echoing inside the confines of her mind. "He's deceiving you. When the ritual is complete, the Skull will be free and then Erandur will turn on you. Quickly! Kill him now. Kill him and claim the Skull for your own! Vaermina commands you!"
Arya staggered backward with a cry of alarm, her hands grasping fruitlessly at her head as the voice continued its urging. "You are no stranger to my realm, Arya of House Stark. I sense great torment in you. Take the Skull and it will erase the pain of your memories."
Falling to her knees, she began to sob, shaking her head wildly and screaming for the voice to leave. Instead, it only increased in volume, breaking her will and bending her fractured mind to its desires.
"Look at him," it hissed. "Look at him!"
Arya lifted her tear-streaked face to see Erandur standing before her, concern written across his sharp elven features.
"Into his eyes..."
The worry inside his blood red eyes slowly shifted to a look of twisted delight and when she looked back to his face it was the sadistic sneer of the man who had tortured Vilkas that met her gaze. Nearly blinded by her own fury, she felt her hand move to her dagger as Vaermina pressed her to take action.
"Kill him! Now!"
Fighting against the grip on her mind, Arya wrenched the dagger from her own hand with a last burst of strength and tossed it aside, managing to gasp out a command in Erandur's direction. "Destroy it!"
"No! You fool! Vaermina commands you—"
A bright burst of light banished the voice from her mind and Arya fell onto her side, gasping for breath and fisting her hands in her hair as she shook from the aftermath of Vaermina's invasion.
"Are you alright?" Erandur asked softly, kneeling by her side and placing the back of his hand against her forehead.
Arya nodded meekly and dragged herself up to sit against the wall, her arms wrapping protectively around her knees. "I just need some time," she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head back in an attempt to soothe its pounding.
Erandur sighed and she felt his hand rest gently on her arm before he stood. "I had constructed a meager shrine to Mara in the antechamber where we entered, intending to spend the rest of my days here, burying the past and paying for forgiveness. Instead, I wish to offer my services to you. If you ever wish for my companionship, I'll be here." He hesitated briefly and then added, "What say you?"
Arya was silent for a long moment before opening her eyes and looking up to meet his gaze. There was only way to know for sure if this is what her path was meant to be.
"Innocence, my brother."
Erandur furrowed his brow in confusion. "I'm sorry...but, I don't understand."
Sighing, Arya buried her face in her hands and gave a muffled reply. "I need to be alone right now, but if I ever need someone by my side, I promise I will not forget you."
A brief moment of silence passed before she heard Erandur's retreating footsteps and she was left alone in the inner sanctum of Vaermina's temple, her mysterious savior's words echoing softly through her mind.
"Farewell, Arya of House Stark. Until we meet again."