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Chapter 42 - Confrontation and Aftermath

Yssha had been badly shaken by the fight with the Titan, but now that she was home again, in bed with Marcurio, Dirsha purring between them, it was hard to be anything but contented. Her husband, her son ... the only flaw was that the Princes who hated her could and would attack again, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold them off .

She grumbled to herself, but then Dirsha decided he was hungry, and she snuggled him to her breast, cat-smiling as he nursed. Her mind wandered, from her time as a Thalmor prisoner which had made childbirth a minor discomfort by comparison, to chats with Paarthurnax, to her and Grams' dispute with Delphine, and even back to her escape from Helgen with Hadvar.

Saarthal and Ancient's Ascent, Miraak and Hermaeus mora, Molag Bal and his Mace ... the Markarth orphanage ... Dirsha. She had to protect him, and that meant doing something about the Daedra, something more than the Dragonfires she'd rekindled.

As her son nursed, she began to drowse off, her mind going to the Aurbis she'd studied so much about, to so little end. As she'd been warned, study had been practically no help, and her meditations had been little more productive.

But here, in bed with her husband and nursing son, the Aurbis took on more reality. Nirn was the hub of the Aurbis, but ...what was the hub of Nirn?

As you went from Void to Aetherius, to Nirn through the spokes separating the realms of Oblivion, things got smaller.

Nirn was the hub, the smallest part of Mundus ... but was it, really? Or did things get even smaller?

She nuzzled Dirsha, beginning to groom him as he nursed, and it happened.

Physically, yes, things got a lot smaller, to a tininess she couldn't comprehend ... but in what the gods found truly important, the smallest unit was mother, father, and baby.

CHIM. Family. That was the core, the meaning. The true reality. To her, at least ... others could have other core realities, another reason CHIM was unteachable. You had to connect it to your personal core, and for her, it was family.

She bared her fangs, in a feline smile of triumph.

She shifted into both her dragon form and her Oblivion realm of Sanctuary, and summoned the Daedric Princes before her. They were segregated into three groups, with a single indivihual standing aside, and she addressed them as they had earned.

"Azura, Meridia, and Hircine. You are Patrons of my friends and family. You do not threaten any in Mundus, so you may continue as you wish. Sanguine and Malacath, while you are not patrons, you are also not threats to the people of Nirn, so you may also continue as you wish."

Then she turned to the second group, her expression less pleasant. "Molag Bal. Mehrunes Dagon. Mephala. Vaermina. All of you harm the inhabitants of Nirn, simply for your own pleasure. I therefore banish you permanently." She raised both hands, glowing gold. "Hi los ni - you are not." And they vanished.

Her attention went to Hermaeus Mora. "You are a more difficult problem. You harm those you wish knowledge from, even when harm is not necessary, because the knowledge is being given willingly. Yet the knowledge you gather is invaluable. So ... you may continue your search for knowledge, but you may no longer restrict access to it, or depart Apocrypha in search of it. I imprison you there, as you imprisoned Miraak." The writhing mass of tentacles and eyes started to protest, but before it could speak, it vanished.

Then her attention went to the third group. "Boethia. Clavicus Vile. Namira. Nocturnal. Peryite. I do not particularly care for much of what any of you stand for, but so far, you have not earned my enmity, and Nocturnal's luck, I am informed, is not only for thieves, and is essential to all life. I do not choose to either alter your minds or remove you from existence, but you do not have my confidence, and your actions cannot be left unmonitored."

At last, she turned to the one standing alone. "Sheogorath, Prince of Madness. As you are now, that is, but you did not begin that way, did you? As I have been given to understand it, you began as Jyggalag, Prince of Order, but were so powerful the other Princes banded together and cursed you to become the embodiment of what you most hated, except for once an eon during the Graymarch."

The Madgod nodded. "You understand correctly, Dovahkiin. I have been cursed, but most of the time, it seems my natural state. During the Graymarch, though, when I am my true self, it is ... horrifying. While you are judging us, would you consider ... " He paused. "I don't know what I really want, you know. I can't, the way I am now."

Yssha smiled at him sympathetically. "Yes, I understand. My greats-grandmother was almost set up to defeat you as Jyggalag, freeing you, and taking Sheogorath's place as Madgod. Her distaste for Oblivion prevented that, but I am now able to remove your curse without having to become the Madgod myself. If you accept that, you will become chief among the Princes, as Akatosh is chief of the Divines."

Sheogorath twirled his cane. "Will I still like cheese?" he asked.

Yssha frowned. "I doubt it would change your food tastes," she replied, puzzled by the question.

"Then I leave the decision to you, Restorer. But either way, I would like to remember."

"Then you will do so. Return to yourself, Prince of Order."

The dapper man with a cane transformed into a giant armored knight, who bowed to Yssha. "I thank you, Restorer. I promise you that you will have no further need to intervene in Oblivion, though you will always be welcome in these realms."

"Thank you. That is a major relief." Yssha sighed. "I ... hesitated to intervene, even by eliminating only four Princes and their realms, and imprisoning a fifth. Just insure I do not have to remove any of the marginal ones, and I will be happy. At least the Balance is restored."

"Indeed," Jyggalag replied. "I foresee only minor problems, none requiring your intervention, for at least three or four millennia." He, or it, sounded like he was smiling. "Go raise your children, Stormcrown, dance your skydances, and care for your Sworn Ones and their partners. I will keep the remaining Princes from any more interference than the Divines allow themselves."

Yssha willed herself to Stormhaven while she considered what, if anything, further she should do. Now that she had CHIM, there was nothing to stop her doing anything she could conceive of, and some of it was incredibly tempting. But it also let her understand why the Divines normally interfered only rarely, and almost always indirectly even then.

So. Keep her promise to Jarl Brunwulf to make Skuldafn visible from Eastmarch, while maintaining its inaccessibility by ground travel. That would take only minor touches here and there on a couple of the view-obstructing peaks, without appreciably changing their visible shapes.

It would be nice to restore Morrowind to its condition before the Red Year, but ... no. That could be as devastating, physically and socially, as the Red Year itself, totally changing the topography and ecology of that entire province. Better to leave it as it was, what people, plants, and animals had adapted to. Maybe a special form of grass, able to thrive in the ash as well as trama root and scathecraw, to let the Dunmer begin a much slower process of reclaiming Morrowind for themselves ... yes, that should be acceptable. She hoped. "Zeymahi?"

"Geh, briinahi?" Talos appeared beside her.

"Am I acting as you and Bormahu would wish?" She sounded plaintive to herself, and didn't like it, but ... she did need to know.

"You're doing fine, little sister." Talos grinned. "Though I suppose that's not appropriate, any more, since you can be bigger than I ever was."

Yssha chuckle-purred. "Yes, thanks to Bormahu. But ... given my most recent decision, I am most curious. Did you really alter Cyrodiil's climate, as your priest in Whiterun insists? Am I wrong in not restoring Morrowind's?"

"No to both," he assured her. "Cyrodiil's change was due to the White Gold Tower, not me - it started long before I took the throne. And you are quite correct that you shouldn't alter Morrowind's, except in the introduction of invasive grasses you're thinking of."

"Ah. Perhaps I should not have made some of the others I did? Though Bormahu Himself gave the twins the Shout I used to restore the Betrayed ... "

"You did all those as a particularly gifted mortal, then immortal, not as CHIM. And that's not something you achieve, as you've found out ... it's something you actually become. So tell me, briinahi ... what will you do with the Aurbis, now that you control it totally?"

That was easy. "Very little, and that only rarely, as you Divines do. Return home, to my family, and live as normal a life as I can, which has always been my desire. If I can find out how. At least until Dirsha is prepared to rule and I am free to abdicate my Jarldom. At that point, I will move the Greater Mirmulnir Throne to the place Seridur will have for it at Skuldafn, and create a reproduction from bonemold for him and his descendants."

Talos smiled. "How does CHIM do anything else? Simply will it, and that things return to normal. Of course, that'll also mean no one will remember any of the disruptions caused by you ridding this universe of four Daedric Princes and exiling a fifth ... "

"As long as they remain gone, and Herma-Mora remains in exile ... yes. Thank you, zeymahi. I return home." But before she did so, Akatosh joined them.

"One more thing, my youngest daughter," the flaming dragon said. "A thing I cannot do, but you now can, if you choose it."

"And that would be what, Bormah?" Yssha asked. "I cannot imagine ... "

"Those of my other children whose souls you hold, moni. I would recommend against doing it in Mundus, because it would cause an overpopulation of dovah there - but you have the power to free them, perhaps into this realm of Stormhaven."

That was something she hadn't thought of. Except for her three soul-sibs, and Ahkrinbo recently, who was barely drowsing, they hadn't troubled her in a long time. "I think, Bormahu, that the choice should be theirs, not mine." And Numinex ... she could heal his madness, another thing she'd not thought of. She reached deep, to where he slept, and did so, very gently, then just as gently, nudged him "awake".

He "woke" slowly, then sent the impression of a smile. I am Numinex, am I not? I forgot that, for a long while. Where am I now, and who are you?

I am Dovahkiin, born Yssha, a kaaz, and I hold your soul. I would free it into my realm of Aetherius, called Stormhaven, if you wish. Bormahu and His son Talos wait here, to greet you if that is your choice.

There was what felt like a long silence, then, I do not think I wish to know how I ended up in a Dovahkiin, or how one gained a realm in Aetherius. But yes, I choose the freedom you offer. Thuri.

So be it, then, Yssha told him with a smile, freeing his soul and watching it emerge in the form of a blood dragon. "I am sorry I could not revive you as I have so many others, but when you died, however it was, the location of your remains was lost, except for your skull. That is now buried in a proper mound outside my capital of Helgen."

"Oh, Olaf killed me when I ceased to amuse him," Numinex said. "I heard him ordering that I be dismembered and my remains scattered, as I died. How were you able to recover even my skull?"

"I hate to say so, but he mounted it as a trophy over his throne. There is a duplicate still there, which I exchanged with the current Jarl so he would let me have your true one and give it proper burial. Please do not hold that exchange against my fahdon Balgruuf; that skull had become a traditional part of the Dragonsreach Great Hall."

Numinex snorted a laugh. "Since you ask, thuri, I will not. Your fahdon had nothing to do with either my death or my skull's trophy status, so there is nothing to forgive him for. Now may I fly, myself again?"

"Fly free, fahdoni ahrk vahriini [my friend and my sworn one]," she replied, and he leaped into the sky, wings beating strongly.

Once he was lost in the distance, she spoke to the others still within her. And the rest of you - how do you choose?

Almost all instantly chose independence, and she freed them the same way. When she was done, only her three soul-sibs were left, and the ... not sleeping, she now realized, but paralyzed - soul of Miraak. Had he been aware like that, and unable to communicate, since Hermaeus Mora had killed him?

Even more gently than she'd done with Numinex, she healed him, then very cautiously restored his consciousness. She was apprehensive mostly because he'd wished Mora to deal with her as the Prince had with him, and she wasn't sure how he'd feel about her being free.

He seemed groggy when he "woke". You ... Last Dragonborn. You serve the Demon of Knowledge now, do you?

"I do not, and no one will again. You are the last he was able to enslave and torment." Yssha snorted, though she wasn't in dragon form.

He looked puzzled. "Oh? And what do you mean by that?"

"I have confined him to Apocrypha, and forbidden him to emerge to extract information from others. What he did to Storn was revolting."

"You ... could do that?" Miraak stared at her. "Then you are not only the foretold Last Dragonborn. You must be ... no, that isn't possible."

"It is, and I am. You reside within me now, but I will free you if you pledge not to harm me or others."

She sensed deep thought as Miraak considered her words. Then she got a very slow and thoughtful reply. "It was not you who defeated me, Last One. Hermaeus Mora ended my life, granting you my soul. That is not the dovah way."

"No, it is not. But it was the way things between us worked out, and both of us are ... special cases. Nor was our duel according to dovah custom. I had three helpers, and you killed and took the souls of three of our kindred to regenerate yourself. Shall we call it even?"

Miraak was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "Since there is no point in another battle between us, Last One, since I cannot win it, yes. You are in your full power now, and it is greater than mine. So what would you have me do?"

"You are Nord, so I suppose you could go to Sovngarde, though I have my doubts Tsun would admit you to the Hall or Valor. Or you could remain here, if you pledge, as I said, to harm none."

"Neither sounds particularly appealing. Is there no third choice?"

Yssha nodded. "I have a realm in Oblivion, called Sanctuary. It is uninhabited, though I and any I permit - like Sanguine and Malacath - may visit."

"That also sounds remarkably unattractive. Is there nothing else?"

Yssha frowned, her ears going back. "We have a saying that beggars cannot be choosers." She was going to continue that if nothing she had to offer would satisfy him, she could always banish him from existence, as she had the four Princes, when she sensed Jyggalag trying to get her attention.

"Join us," she invited, and the huge armored form appeared. She smiled at him. "You have a better idea, Prince?"

"I do indeed," the Lord of Order's deep voice replied. "You have named me head of the remaining Princes, which adds to my responsibilities, and this Miraak was ambitious to rule the isle of Solstheim. I would have him take on the day-to-day rule of the Shivering Isles, to free me from that task so I may pursue my other duties."

Yssha turned to Miraak, who was looking stunned. "Is that to your taste, Alliance Guide who guided alliances only to yourself?"

Miraak gave her a sardonic bow. "I believe it will do nicely." He turned to the armored figure. "I am at your service, Lord Jyggalag."

At home that evening, Yssha described what she'd been doing to her family, ending with, "So it seems I get my wish at last, my loves, to retire from adventuring to raise my children and perfect my crafting. I am happier than I have been since Dirsha was born."

"Oh, in a couple of weeks, then," Marcurio chuckled.