In a land of fire and death, I laid on flat black stone, spikes through my legs keeping me nailed to the spot. Any movement resulted in the pain worsening.

Out from the side, I saw a dremora approaching, one of the head torturers ready to begin on me once again for no purpose but to hear my screams and drink in the blood spilled until my death ended the current session. I could never go to the distant Aetherius; my very soul was trapped in the Deadlands.

Despite the extra pain, I shook around, trying to escape. After all, the pain in my legs was nothing compared to what the dremora would exact upon me. And yet, of course, as always, I failed in my attempt. I held my breath to no end, the agony shaking me to my core. Scars upon scars, gashes upon gashes. Finally, my life ended there on that rocky slab, and my soul began to rise into the sky without pain, only a warm joy.

I never reached the edge.

Yanked back down into my body, smooth and without flaw, the torturer laughed at his blank canvas to once again create his wicked art upon.

This was my life, all because of Nade's accursed deal. This torture would never end because of Nade's deal.

Nade.

"Back away, Zivirr." Terror as I'd never felt before nearly stopped my heart, the gravelly voice sickeningly familiar. The tower's top was thrown to the ground, rubble raining down and increasing the number of wounds I'd suffered. Up ahead, the demonic face of the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon stared down at me. Horns black as the void, eyes of fire, skin red as blood, and four arms protruding from his torso all came together to form the Daedric Prince of Destruction himself.

Mehrunes Dagon.

The Prince bared his teeth in what could almost be called a smile. "It is my turn to break this soul of Shor."

...

"Let me go!" The scream burst unwillingly from my lips, hair drenched with sweat while the tortured scars crisscrossing my body felt just as fresh as when they'd been created. Hugging my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut in a futile attempt to prevent the tears from falling. I was back, back in the Deadlands where I'd been tormented, experimented upon, and damaged beyond belief for an entire year. I'd even undergone the personal perdition made by Mehrunes Dagon himself, the Prince of Destruction, depravity embodied as a hellish beast.

I jumped, startled, as the door slammed open to reveal an angry Bishop. However, it didn't seem his anger was focused on me. "What's going on?" he demanded, golden eyes sweeping the area. When there was no visible threat, he turned his sharp gaze to me. "What happened?" Karnwyr's head was tipped in confusion as I tried to slow my broken breathing.

An awkward silence passed as I tried to gather my thoughts with the ranger walking over to stand next to me. "I... I had a nightmare," I whispered, hugging my knees to my chest. The memory was still fresh in my mind, as was the pain in my body. I fought the urge to touch the old wounds. I didn't particularly want to discuss it, and the movement would certainly raise his curiosity.

After a moment, Bishop's gruff expression began to lift, and he sat at the edge of my bed. "So did I," he said quietly.

I watched him, surprised by his reaction. "What do you mean?" He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"I mean I had a nightmare, princess. What else do you want from me?" I remained quiet, wanting to know what his was about, but I didn't want to violate his privacy- in addition to the certainty that he'd ask for mine.

"They weren't ordinary nightmares." A Dunmer in tan robes stared at us from the doorway with something akin to pity. An Amulet of Mara hung from his neck while a dagger sat at his side, but judging from its shiny appearance, it likely wasn't often used. However, he was certainly a mage, meaning he was all too possibly a threat.

Bishop had come to this conclusion far quicker than I and had shoved the Dark Elf male against the wall, dagger against his ash-gray throat. "Who are you?" the ranger demanded through clenched teeth. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

The mage appeared entirely unbothered by Bishop's display of strength and stared straight ahead. "I am Erandur, priest of Mara. To answer your question, they were manifestations created by the Daedric Lord Vaermina."

Bishop let out an irritated sigh and dropped his dagger, but still kept a wary eye on the intruder. "What, more Daedric Princes? Two in one town is a little much for me, thanks." He waved me on. "Come on, ladyship. We're not staying here, Nade or not." The Dunmer stared at us while I glared at Bishop.

"That won't stop them, not now," the Elf said. "You'll be plagued with the nightmares forever, or as long as Vaermina wants them."

I already have nightmares... but every night, the worst of my life...

"Well, shit." Bishop held his head in his hands. "And we just had to come here, just had to come to visit this gods-awful town in the asshole of Tamriel." The Dark Elf said nothing while I scooted next to Bishop. Though I wouldn't say it, I shared the same sentiments as the ranger.

The Dunmer sat in the chair opposite the bed and crossed his legs. "She has an awful hunger for our memories. In return, she leaves behind nightmares, not unlike a cough marks a serious illness. I must end her terrible influence over these people before the damage becomes permanent."

Bishop took his head from his hands, golden eyes blazing. "Permanent? Dreams aren't even real." Erandur cast his gaze aside regretfully.

"In any other circumstance, I'd agree with you," he said, tugging on the rope from his robe. However, these aren't normal dreams. The Daedric Lord Vaermina's voracious hunger for memories is responsible for these visions. The nightmares are an echo of her presence as she feeds." His words alone left an echo in my head. The only sound for at least a few minutes was the crackling fire out in the main hall.

"Well, she can have my memories," I muttered. Bishop turned to me questioningly and I shook my head. "But why bother, priest? This isn't your problem, is it?"

Erandur seemed shocked. "Turn my back on these people when their lives could be at stake? I should say not. Those dreams are not just visions. As I said, they're a footprint left by the Daedric Lord Vaermina as she drains you all of your memories!"

I sat up. "What's your plan?" Bishop's eyes widened.

"What are you doing?" he scolded.

"Getting rid of the nightmares," I responded lowly, my chest resonating with fear. "We can't keep this up."

Bishop considered my words for a few seconds before sighing reluctantly. "Whatever you say, ladyship." His iron gaze returned to Erandur. "All right, priest. You heard her. What's your plan?"

The Dark Elf appeared unaffected by Bishop's harsh words and tone. "I need to return to the source of the problem, to Nightcaller Temple." He lifted a brow. "I take it you'd be willing to assist me in that regard?"

Bishop tensed once more. "What do you mean, 'return?' You've been there?" His jaw clenched, and it was obvious suspicion ran thick through him. Meanwhile, the priest at last looked nervous.

"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 problems."

"We can't trust you." Erandur and Bishop both looked at me. "You're hiding something. I don't want any more nightmares, but something's up with you."

Erandur stood and faced the door, his next words rueful. "Your concerns are understandable; trust is a very difficult commodity to come by these days. I can only give you my word as a priest of Mara that my intentions are honorable." He waited for my response, and I elected to talk to Bishop.

"What do we do?" I hated feeling unsure and helpless.

"Priest of Mara?" Bishop spat, borderline hostile as he turned to glare at Erandur. "If I'd have known he worships that... that..." I unconsciously rubbed at his head, trying to calm him. He whipped his face around with his lips pursed in annoyance.

"Stop treating me like a doll."

I shook my head. "Sorry, sorry. I was..." Doing what? Do I even know what I was doing? "I guess we go to Nightcaller Temple," I evaded. I could tell from the stare Bishop fixed on me that he wasn't fooled, but didn't press it further. He took a deep breath, eyes closing. His long lashes fluttered against his cheek. "We don't have a choice, do we?" I asked softly.

He lifted his lids and watched me with an odd look in his eyes. "I don't think so," he answered remorsefully. His attention turned to Erandur, and when he spoke, his tone was less than respectful. "You, priest. Anything else you can tell us?" Erandur beckoned for us to come with him.

"I promise to answer all of your questions. Follow me."

"Guess we're going." My voice was barely more than a murmur.

Bishop cleared his throat. "Can you let me go, sweetness? It's nice that you've become so attached to me, but if you really want to get rid of these nightmares and prance around helping everyone, then I'll need my arm back." I became aware that I'd been clutching Bishop's arm this entire while.

My face grew hot, and I just about threw him off. "Sorry," I muttered, turning away. A chuckle came from his direction.

"Oh, no, ladyship. You are absolutely forgiven." He took my hand and helped me up before slowly bringing it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it and gave a smirk. Immediately after, he strode away, leaving my wide-eyed self behind him. Karnwyr wagged his tail and looked up at me with a wolfy grin.

I stared down at the red-furred canine. "Your master is impossible," I grumbled. "You know that?" A low bark was all I received in reply. Karnwyr let out a bark as if to say, "I know" before loping off to join Bishop. I slowly followed, clutching my hand. Somehow, some way, I could still feel the scratchy stubble on my hand, warm lips that graced my skin ever so softly, and finally, the amber eyes that had stared me down, mischief gleaming within. We'd shared tiny moments of affection before, but... why had they begun to affect me so intensely?

...

The way up the path was difficult to see through, powdery snow blowing every which way. Erandur, unfettered by the snow, began to run through it. I ran just behind him with Bishop trailing me. "Follow me, it's this way. It feels good to finally have a chance to help these people. Helplessly watching them suffer's been difficult." The priest had to raise his voice to be heard. "The tower on that hill is our destination. People around here call it the Tower of the Dawn. I'm not familiar with the tower's history, but it was deserted for quite a long time before Nightcaller Temple was established inside." I was only half-listening as the Dunmer continued, barely registering his words. "When the temple was active, the priests would rarely be seen in Dawnstar. They preferred to live a solitary existence. The temple's been abandoned for decades now. Ironic isn't it... a ruin within a ruin?"

"Uh huh," I said absentmindedly, thoughts still somewhere else.

"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 shook my head, forcing myself back into the present. "Tell me about Vaermina." My voice was barely audible through the thick wind and snow that attacked us up the path.

"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." He sounded frightened, and frankly, I couldn't blame him.

Bishop's ensuing snort turned into a cough while he shielded his face. Even Karnwyr whined on the walk. "Sounds fun."

"I would say that 'fun' is quite the opposite word to describe it, my child."

I couldn't see him, but I knew Bishop well enough to know that he was rolling his eyes. "It's called sarcasm, priest."

"Forgive me, I am rather focused on the seriousness of this task." Bishop quieted, and I wondered why there was no snarky remark.

I decided to break the awkward silence that had settled upon our little troop. "What does she do with the memories?" I shouted, hoping my voice would carry.

"Who can say?" Erandur called back. "Perhaps she collects them for display like works of art in a nonsensical art gallery." He paused. "Whatever the case may be, her intentions are far from benevolent. There!" He ended his sentence with a relieved sigh. "It's up there." I squinted, trying to see through the snow swirling around.

"Finally," Bishop muttered, clearly annoyed. "Let's go."

Erandur led us up the steps to the door of the temple. Instead of entering, he turned around and eyed us. "Before we enter, I must warn you about the dangers that could be lurking within."

Bishop let out a false gasp. "What? Danger? No!" Erandur still seemed ignorant of Bishop's satirical tone.

"Indeed. 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?" I interjected, unwilling to let Bishop continue to mock the priest. Erandur shook his head.

"No. Knowing they could never defeat the Orcs, the priests of Vaermina released what they call "The Miasma," putting everyone to sleep."

"Then why is it dangerous if they're asleep?" I queried, curiosity threaded through my voice. "What does the Miasma do?"

"One question at a time, please." Erandur motioned to the temple. "First off, I'm concerned that when this place is unsealed, the Miasma will dissipate and they'll awaken- both Orcs and priests alike." The Dark Elf laid a gentle hand on the door. "As for the Miasma, it was created by the priests of Vaermina for their rituals. It's a gas that places the affected in a deep sleep. Because the rituals would last for months or even years, the Miasma was designed to slow down the aging process."

Bishop snapped his fingers a few times to garner attention. "This is interesting and all, and I would absolutely love to hear the rest, but can we go inside?" He looked my way. "My guess is that she's cold as shit right now."

I shivered. "He's not wrong." Erandur lifted a brow, likely at Bishop's profanity, before dipping his head and opening the door. "Language," I muttered to Bishop while we walked into the temple. He merely shrugged, unbothered by my disapproving manner. Clearing my throat, I addressed Erandur once more. "Is the gas dangerous?"

The priest's shoulders slumped. "Sadly, yes. The longer an individual is exposed to the Miasma, the more the mind can become damaged. Those who've been under the effect of it for extended periods of time have been known to lose their minds entirely. In some cases, a few never awoke at all." He gestured to a blank wall. "Once we get through, all will become clear. Oh, and I never caught your names."

"That's because we never gave them to you," Bishop blurted, lips curled up in a snarl.

I set a hand on Bishop's shoulder. "This is Bishop, and I'm Alessia." Erandur brightened up ever so slightly.

"Alessia? You share your name with-"

"Saint Alessia, yes." Erandur gave a smile and faced the back of the room.

Bishop and I watched as the priest walked over to the small shrine of Mara he had erected. The ranger beside me growled ever so softly, speaking words I had to strain to hear. "Goddamn Mara." I didn't have time to ask him what he meant as Erandur stood and spoke again.

"All right. Give me just a moment, and I'll have this open." He carefully stepped over the gray stone rubble that laid strewn across the floor. Dust flew up where he stepped. The interesting part came when the Dark Elf set his hand against the bare wall and murmured a few words under his breath. The bricks began to shake, trembling under his glowing magic. At last, they swung out of the way, revealing hallways hidden inside the tower's otherwise inconspicuous walls. "Now I can show you the source of the nightmares. Over here."

The ranger and I exchanged a cautious glance before following the priest. Each of us was at least slightly nervous, even Karnwyr. The red wolf let out little whines every few seconds, and his ears were constantly pressed down. This was a cursed temple, indeed.

Up ahead, a light emanated from some unknown source. Erandur had already reached a barred off space to a lower level of the temple. I sped up my gait to reach him, but he didn't even react to me standing beside him. When I followed his gaze, I realized why. It wasn't the violet glow from the next level down or the aura that surrounded the bottom.

It was what stood tall within it.

At least seven feet tall, simply radiating malice and power, was a staff set with a horned demon's skull. A shudder ran through my body, and I barely felt the hand touch the small of my back. The stave, deadly and oh-so-malignant below, set my heart racing.

My staring spell was broken by the ranger speaking beside me. "I take it that's what's giving us those nightmares?" I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed at them. In the meantime, Erandur was speaking to Bishop with a grave voice.

"Behold the Skull of Corruption, the source of Dawnstar's woes. It is indeed still active after decades of disuse. We must reach the inner sanctum and destroy it. Come, there's no time to lose." Erandur headed off.

"Hey! Princess!" I forced myself to snap out of it again. "You okay? We need to follow that priest." The distaste he felt was obvious.

"Damn it!" Erandur's loud curse drew our attention, and we both followed the path he'd taken. We came upon a mystical violet barrier, and just being near it made me feel odd. From the whine that came from Karnwyr, I guessed he felt the same. I rubbed at my arms, trying to rid myself of the sensation. "The priests must have activated this barrier when the Miasma was released."

"And how do we un-activate it?" Bishop crossed his arms and leaned on the rusty iron bars. His crossed arms made it clear he'd been annoyed with this little adventure since it'd started.

"Yeah, it looks difficult to breach," I agreed.

"Impossible actually." Bishop threw his hands up into the air at Erandur's comment.

"Then what's the point? Why are we here?" Erandur made no move to give us a reply, instead scratching his chin while inspecting the barrier. He carefully reached out, the purple ward giving off a strange hum when he touched it. There was no injury to him when he pulled away. "Hmm, I wonder..." the Dark Elf priest said to himself. "There may be a way to bypass the barrier, but I must check their library and confirm it can be done."

Bishop and I once again shared a look, though it was the surly ranger who spoke up against Erandur. "You seem to know an awful lot about this place." The distrust he felt rang clear, and the Dunmer stopped in his tracks. For a moment, the only noise was the buzzing of the barrier.

Erandur gave a slow sigh and closed his red eyes. "I suppose there's no point in concealing the truth any longer," he began. "My knowledge of this temple comes from personal experience. I was a priest of Vaermina." Bishop instantly grew rigid.

"Why keep it a secret?" he growled, hand moving near his knife.

Erandur met Bishop's steely gaze readily. "When the Orcs invaded the temple, I fled. I left my brothers and sisters here to die." A few heartbeats passed, and Bishop and I spoke at the same time.

"You should have told us the truth."

"I knew it! You're a liar!" Bishop's roar of fury covered my calmer response.

Erandur held up his hands in surrender. "You're right, Alessia," he admitted. "I should have told you the truth, but I didn't know what to say. When the Orcs raided the temple, I fled. I left my brothers and sisters behind to die." He gestured to Bishop, expression hardening. "And what would you have me say? "Sorry for following the misguided teachings of a mad Divine"?"

"Are we talking about Mara or Vaermina here?" Erandur's frown turned into a scowl, though he did not directly respond.

"Do you realize when the Orcs attacked, I was only concerned for myself? I fled... and left my brothers and sisters behind to die." It was evident by both the anguished expression he wore and the repetition of that phrase that he regretted his actions. "I've spent the last few decades living in regret and seeking redemption from Mara. And by her benevolence, I will right my wrongs." All three of us were quiet as we contemplated what he'd meant.

Finally, I raised my head and spoke softly, yet with utter honesty all the same. "I hope you can, Erandur. We all have wrongs that need to be righted."