"I never thought I'd be here again..." Cura stated disheartenedly as she gazed upon the stone palisade of Markarth from the Stables. The gray skies that hung above them like a noose were most unwelcoming to the accursed city. Cura shivered. "At least we're not going inside. I'm grateful for that. Nothing good ever came from this place. Nothing!"
"I can feel the Daedric energy here." Serana stated. "Molag Bal is very powerful in this city."
"Believe me, I know." Cura said flatly.
"This place has more curses in it than a dead Voodoo doll!" Inigo cringed. "I do not like it. I agree with Cura. There are no happy memories here. We should go."
"But isn't Markarth where you found Stendarr's Hammer?" Lucien asked as he recalled the tales he'd heard.
"Yes, after being skewered in Dwemer ruins." Cura rained on the parade. "Just... can we go? I don't want to linger about only for the sky to fall on my head." She quickly walked down the pathway and downwards towards the bridge over the river, across from the bridge leading to the outer city Mines.
After some time along the gloomy green hills passed, and after a battle with several angry Bandits, and a couple of wolves, Serana spoke to Cura. "Sometimes, I kind of wish that we weren't so... how do you say this..." She was losing her train of thought as she tried to describe how she was feeling as of late, but the words corrected themselves, "Well... renowned. At this point, most of Skyrim has heard of your name, and half of it is trying to kill us. It seems like it's almost impossible to have a nice, leisurely stroll outside city walls, without getting pounced upon or attacked."
Cura shrugged. "It can't be helped. What would you rather of our group?"
Serana began. "Not to be known or seen as heroes, or great warriors, but as simply country folk, really. I'd like to move to another province; buy a small cottage somewhere and relax."
Lucien chuckled gleefully. "Sounds all right to me! I'd much love to spend time in a villa by the ocean, sitting on a porch, reading a good book."
"That sounds like my dream life, honestly." Cura remarked with pleasant surprise as she wiped some blood off of her mace. "Sitting on a comfortable chair under the warm sun and baby blue skies, but up in the greener mountains, perhaps with a nice Cat or Dog under my foot that I can caress while I enjoy retirement..."
"I can lie down if you'd like, and we could sit on that porch near Lake Honrich!" Inigo exclaimed ironically.
The group thought about it for a second and began to laugh, Inigo included.
What a silly Khajiit.
"Well, Inigo, if you're so eager to be a rug, why not pick a good spot on the floor?" Lucien laughed. "Like beside the fireplace?"
"Are you crazy?" Inigo snapped. "I would not want soot in my fur! Do you have any idea how difficult that will be to wash out? Sheeesh!"
"Probably much worse than cleaning soot from your hair. And I have been there." Cura proposed as she climbed over a jagged rock to gain elevation on the craggy mountainside.
"I have no arguments to counter that." Lucien mused fearfully. "Do... do you think we'll face a Dragon? I still haven't seen one."
"Would you like to see one?" Cura offered in a friendly manner, as there was something she wanted to try out,
"What?" Lucien raised his brows. "Here? Right now? I don't..."
Serana realized what Cura was getting at. "Sure, Cura, why not?"
Cura nodded at Serana, and Inigo backed away slightly. "You're not turning into one, are you?" He asked nervously.
"No, but I did make a promise to one; I think I'll honour it." Cura confessed as she looked towards the sky. "DUR-NEH-VIIR!"
Suddenly, a purple torrent of light spun on the ground before the group, and eventually began to take the shape of the decomposed Dragon.
"EEEK!" Lucien squeaked and jumped behind a rock instinctively.
Inigo leaped backwards and readied himself to fight in the event of an attack.
"Ah! The free air of Vus at long last." Durnehviir looked to the skies with great jubilation, and then back down to Cura, who kept her word after all. "You have kept your side of the bargain, now let me fulfill mine. As promised, I now teach you the first word of Soul Tearing: "Rii" - the essence of your enemy's life force."
"Rii."
"Essence."
The very being of a living creature; their soul, that which powers them. Tethered to the mortal realm, and part divine in its origin, this celestial force that dwells within all living things.
Durnehviir was not yet finished. "Hear now the second word of Soul Tearing: "Vaaz" - meaning to tear your enemy's soul from its living vessel."
Lucien's jaw dropped. "Say what, now?! Words can do such a thing?!"
"Not just words; the Thu'um." Serana reminded Lucien of what Cura was capable of.
Cura herself listened to the word, and meditated upon it, as was the Way of the Voice. "Rii, Vaaz." She repeated.
Durnehviir nodded, and allowed Cura some time to process. The Dragon was impressed by the speed with which this mortal picked up on their tongue. She truly was Dragonborn.
"Vaaz."
"Tear."
To rip something asunder. Like a sheet of parchment, gripped in two powerful hands and twisted in two opposing directions, so too would the spirit be driven from its mortal coil; shredded from the natural fibers and released from its divine bonds. A dreadful fate for any living creature to endure.
Durnehviir could see the familiar spark of clarity within Cura's eyes, and felt a source of pride within, having been able to pass on his Thu'um. There was one last step. "You learn very quickly. Feel the last word of Soul Tearing within yourself: "Zol" - the unlife that results when a soul is imprisoned in dead flesh."
"Wait... like a Zombie?" Inigo shivered as images of Draugr and other similar Undead flooded his mind. "Oh, please, my friend, promise me you will never use it!"
Cura could not hear anything external from her own heartbeat.
"Zol."
"Zombie."
A terrifying, necromantic creation, formed from the trapping of one's soul within an item and used to power and animate their dead body. Unthinking, unbending, and unreasonable minions of any dark wizard, unable to think, or to betray their master. An accursed existence, and the bane to all things the Vigil of Stendarr advocated for. An exceedingly cruel fate to force upon a person; whether they be guilty or innocent.
She resolved that if she ever had to use Soul Tear, it would only be in a last resort situation, and she would only use two of the words; not to disgrace her foe with undeath.
Cura's heartbeat slowed could faintly feel the familiar, friendly presences of Lucien and Inigo, who stood some distance away, blocked from her by Durnehviir's large frame. And then, to her surprise, gicen her status, she felt something from Serana; her spirit that dwelt within her undead frame, and the Dragon Soul that whirled and gnashed within Durnehviir himself, which resonated with her own as they stood in close proximity.
"Can you feel it, Qahnaariin?" Durnehviir asked Cura. "The souls that surround you. They are yours to do as you see fit. I thank you for giving me this opportunity to fly the skies of Keizaal once more. Perhaps someday you will join me." He pushed himself up off the ground and hovered momentarily before flying upwards into the skies.
The Dragon soared joyfully, and flew in loops and twirls above the mountains above, like a gleeful Raven. He knew his time was short, so he would relish in the beautiful blue skies while it lasted.
Lucien cautiously emerged from behind the crag. "You... would you care to explain?" He asked nervously.
"Cura defeated him in the Soul Cairn." Serana explained. "That was when my Mother gave us the Elder Scroll. Before that, we had to fight Durnehviir in a large arena-like area. Cura was fantastic!" She turned to look at the Dragonborn and pointed at her with both open hands. "I won't be shy in praising you there; that was one of the most incredible duels I have ever seen. You did amazing."
Cura blushed and turned away her face. "Er, thanks." The flattery overcame her.
"I wish I was there to see it!" Inigo cursed his inability to enter the realm of the dead. "Damn it! ...Well, maybe you will do some of these cooler things in the next Dragon fight, yes?"
"For you, Inigo, anytime." Cura promised her friend.
Inigo clapped his hands together gleefully. "All right! Yesss! I cannot wait, my friend! You could talk a Dragon into setting itself on fire! Maybe try that next time."
The Breton snorted and shook her head. The amusing remark brought a grin to her face, and she continued to lead the way on the trek to the Darkfall Cave, When she took out her map, she studied her surroundings and determined that it was not too far ahead.
"I wonder how old that cave is..." Lucien pondered. "Has it been formed since the last thousand years, or has it existed for thousands more?"
"It's probably been around since my era." Serana informed. "At the very least since then. So yes, I would say it's been around for a very long time."
"It's going to take us to the Forgotten Vale." Cura explained. "A small pocket region in High Rock - and there we will find Auriel's Bow."
"A pocket region in High Rock?" Inigo seemed to perk up. "Hey, you said you always wanted to go to High Rock, Cura! Now you can say you have!"
Cura had expressed this to her friends before, so it came as no surprise. However, it wasn't exactly what she was looking for. "It's not really High Rock, though. It's only within their borders, past ours. It's called 'Forgotten' Vale for a reason."
"But it is still on Breton soil, yes?" Inigo asked.
"Well, technically, but it's not like we're going to Evermore or anything." Lucien explained. "I highly doubt we'll be seeing any Bretons there. At the very least, alive. There could be dead explorers there we can loot."
Cura had her reservations about looting corpses. Ones made through fair combat, fine. But ones that have been dead for a long time and are nothing but withered bones? It just seemed indecent. It would be best to avoid doing so, out of proper respect for the deceased. Perhaps that's the Nord in her talking.
Serana noted her silence to the suggestion, and instead called attention to a cavern ahead of them. "Your fantasies are all well and good, but I think we've made it." She extended a finger and pointed to the crevice in the ancient, weathered stone wall ahead of them, surrounded by ice vapour that rose into the sky.
A hollow wind escaped from within, spreading uncertain warmth upon the group. Lucien exhaled. "Agmaer may have gone blind so we could do this... so let's do this, shall we?"
Cura went ahead and raised her shield, preparing for inevitable struggle within. Serana stood beside her and Inigo and Lucien followed behind, keeping their crossbows at the ready.
"I really hope there are no Draugr in there... those things make my skin crawl." Inigo shuddered as he took a step into the darkness.
"Don't worry, Inigo; they can't be worse than what we've already had to contend with." Lucien exhaled as he followed discreetly.
Inside the entrance there was a winding passage and a frostbite spider lurking about. It hadn't noticed the group yet, and Inigo took the chance to snipe it, the expert marksman he was. The bolt penetrated right between its second set of eyes, marking a bullseye.
"Wow, nice shot, Inigo!" Lucien exclaimed in surprise. "You not only met your mark, but did so under the veil of darkness! Excellence at its finest!"
Serana turned around to speak to the Imperial. "Um... he's a Khajiit. They have Night Vision, like Cats do. And as we do. It wasn't much of extra effort taken on his part."
"So what? It has earned me some flowers! Keep throwing them, Lucien!" Inigo puffed out his chest proudly.
Cura continued walking onwards, taking the passage directly behind the spider. She cleaved through a host of webs that obstructed the path using the hooked ridges of her Elven Mace, opening the way for the group. At the end of the short tunnel past the Frostbite Spider's carcass was a bridge that was suspended over a dark chasm, and lead to a flat, dead end with a table, a pickaxe, and two glistening ore veins; likely Moonstone in its make.
As soon as Serana reached the ledge beside Cura, a loud, resounding Snap! was heard, and the rickety old bridge began to collapse. Inigo and Lucien picked up the pace, and Inigo leapt for the ledge, catching it with his hand and Lucien grabbed onto his leg before falling.
"Inigo!" Cura shrieked as she lurched forward to catch her feline friend, but lost her footing and fell off the ledge. "Hwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh..." Her voice shrunk the further she descended. Then a faint splashing noise resonated from below the blackness.
"CURA!" Serana and Inigo cried out in unison, and Lucien strayed, crying out in desperation, "CANDLE, NO!"
After reaching this point the group realized there was no turning back.
"No... Inigo..." Lucien shook his head in protest as he recognized the daring expression on the Khajiit's face, fearing his next move.
"My friend, I am coming!" Inigo released his hold of the ledge, causing himself and Lucien to follow the Breton, plunging into a rapidly flowing stream below.
Serana used her vampiric powers to fly down safely, and she flew inches above the stream, tracking Lucien and Inigo, and Cura further down the raging river in the darkness.
The stream swiftly carried the Dragonborn and her cohorts deeper into the cave system, eventually bringing them into a frostbite spider den. One of the arachnids spat a web at Cura, but she evaded it by ducking down under the water allowing the web to form a soft net above the waves. Unfortunately, Lucien swam right into it.
"Eugh! Ew! No...!" Lucien's face coiled in disgust as he attempted to pull the wet webs off his shoulders and face.
Serana blasted the Spider with an Ice Storm, freezing it in place, and Cura grabbed a natural ledge and pulled herself out of the water. She quickly rushed towards the frozen Spider and smashed it into several pieces.
Inigo leapt out of the water, though was weighed down a little by his wet fur. He leapt forward and impaled another Spider with his Ebony Sword from the shadows before it could jump onto Cura's back.
Lucien cast a Fireball at one of the other spiders, and the light created from the flame illuminated the cavern, revealing many, many more Spiders on the ledges around the walls. They began to run down and spit their webs at the group.
Serana resurrected the corpse of the Spider Inigo had stabbed and set it upon its cousins. "Come on, this way!" She directed her allies westward down the tunnels, following the remainder of the river.
Cura was diligent, and allowed her friends to get ahead of her. Before they reached the tunnel exit, she looked up towards the stalactites on the ceiling and Shouted. "FUS RO DAH!"
When her vocal shockwave collided with the ceiling, it caused the earth above to shift and collapse over the tunnel behind. Rocks crushed many of the swarm of angry Spiders, and barricaded the way, buying Cura and her allies time to escape.
When the quartet made it to a slope, which directed them further into the cave, they stopped to catch their breath.
"That... huff... that felt personal." Lucien coughed lightly. "Do you think we'e angered the gods in some way?"
Cura shook her head. "No; I guess that was just bound to happen. Perhaps it's how the cavern was dug. Maybe we were meant to come down here by natural ramp, but... it collapsed over the years."
"Oh, that's nice." Serana muttered. "To think we could have walked into the Spiders dry instead of soaked to the bone." She noted the water that had splashed up onto her robes with irritation.
Cura wrung out the bottom of her robes, allowing the water to depart the fabric onto the floor. "Yes, but I am glad I was in the water when it fired its webbing at me. It was a convenient location, if nothing else."
"Speak for yourself!" Lucien cried out in disbelief at his own misfortune. He was still frustratedly prying wet silk out of his hair.
"We still have some distance to cover, whether to reach the Forgotten Vale, or just to get out of this cavern." Inigo surveyed the area. "Let us go."
The group walked along the clammy, dirt-covered path further into the cave, which immediately forked to the east and the west, providing two parallel paths around a natural rock wall.
"Oh. I love these sorts of gimmicks." Serana scoffed. "Just like the books I've read."
"Oooh, if this is like 'Inigo the Brave', then you should see attackable stalactites and an Ogre!" Inigo clapped his hands excitedly. "Choose wisely, my friend."
"It's up to you, Candle." Lucien looked to their leader. "Wherever you go, I'll follow - unless it's too dangerous, then I'll run the other way. Sound good?"
Serana and Inigo gave him a dirty look, which confused the sheltered Imperial. "...What?"
"I'll take the western path; it leads to higher ground, it seems." Cura noted the ramp further off beyond an orange glow. When she approached the light with her weapons ready, she saw a camp, occupied by a dead Breton, who held a Note in his hand.
Cura took the note and glanced over it.
"Sister, I know that you'll come find me, but it will be too late. If you find this letter, get out of this forsaken cave as soon as possible. We were fools to think we could live so close to such creatures and live peacefully.
I should've headed back to camp with you after we placed the torches down here. I thought these trolls would be different, that they would somehow understand that we didn't want to hurt them.
I am now cornered and it's only a matter of time before one of the trolls decides to finish me off. I hope it is a quick death.
Farewell, my dear sister."
Cura shook her head and pocketed the Note. What nonsense was that? Who would ever think it a good idea to live in close proximity to Trolls? Nearby, she saw the body of a Breton woman, dead from an undetermined cause. Maybe they were fleeing court drama in High Rock and thought this would be a safer place. How very sad.
In the back of that camp there was a bed, and behind the mattress was a pull-chain. Cura tugged it, and opened a path directly to the end of the cave. Cura's allies tread lightly over the bodies and the camping supplies and followed Cura into the new chamber, where they saw what appeared to be a large golden emblem depicting a stylized sun sitting upon a gold chess Pawn base jutted out of a pond nearby.
"I guess we picked the right path." Cura turned to see Inigo sneaking by. "The eastern path may have lead to Trolls, according to the note." She held up the Note she'd taken from the deceased Breton.
"Thank you, S'rendarr!" Inigo wiped his forehead dramatically.
Serana headed towards the statue, ignoring the shadowed figure lurking around a stalagmite nearby. "What's that? I can feel some kind of power from it..."
"Serana!" Cura tried to warn her of the approaching figure, and the group readied their weapons in case they were an attacker.
"Come forward. You have nothing to fear here." the figure expressed as he walked into the light shining above the statue, revealing his face to the group. The man was an elf of sorts; pale, taut, and exotic in his appearance, with white hair. He wore white, elegant armour and bore an Elven Mace, much like Cura's, except it was white in colouration, matching his all.
"That can't be-" Lucien's jaw dropped. "A... a Snow Elf?!"
"I am Knight-Paladin Gelebor. Welcome to the Great Chantry of Auri-El." the Elven man bowed forward graciously disregarding the open shock towards his appearance.
"This cave is a temple to Auriel?" Inigo was surprised, though, seeing the Solar emblem, he realized that he probably shouldn't be.
"Auriel, Auri-El, Alkosh, Akatosh... so many different names for the sovereign of the snow elves." Gelebor stated.
So, Akatosh and Auriel really were the same entity! The God of Time, Father of Dragons, creator of Dragonborns, was also maker of the Sun.
"So you're a Paladin as well! How interesting!" Cura exclaimed, excited to see another of her ilk, even if he were of a different cloth. And a foreign elf, to boot! How fascinating an encounter this was! Gleefully, she clasped her hands together. "But... wait... you're a Falmer? You look..." Cura asked. The word meant Snow Elf in their language, after all. Though, the last time she had seen them, they were gnarled, Goblinesque monstrosities. If he were related, it was good to see that there were some who weren't as such.
"I prefer "Snow Elf". The name "Falmer" usually holds a negative meaning to most travelers. Those twisted creatures you call Falmer, I call the Betrayed." Gelebor corrected them morosely.
Lucien nodded, having known this from his studies already. He knew that a rift formed in the last days of the Snow Elves, but to learn how it occurred would be great for History. He leaned his head forward, so as to ensure he heard every last syllable.
"I apologize. I meant no offense." Cura lowered her head humbly. "Who were your people? I would love to learn more about the Snow Elves!" She even looked to Lucien, who already had his journal and one of his many quills in his hand. He was sketching the Statue of Auri-El, and readying to take notes on the side. Serana's eyes tracked his quick sketching; the boy really had artistic talent; capturing the shrine before him with near-flawless accuracy. She envied that.
The refined Paladin spoke earnestly. "We were once a wealthy and prosperous society that occupied a portion of Skyrim. Unfortunately, we were constantly at war with the Nords who claimed the land as their ancestral home."
Cura nodded, understanding this place in History. "And Ysgramor and the Nords won the war." She recalled the History of the Companions, and the battleaxe, Wuuthrad, lethal to Elves by its mere touch.
"In a manner of speaking." Gelebor was not excited to admit it, but he continued. "We had always maintained an uneasy alliance with the underground-dwelling dwarves, and when faced with extinction we turned to them for help. Surprisingly, they agreed to protect us but demanded a terrible price... the blinding of our race."
How awful. Though, it explained why the Falmer were blind. It certainly wasn't the caverns, as evidenced by Gelebor's fully-functional eyesight, even after all these centuries.
"There was no way that everyone could have possibly agreed to that." Serana swept the idea away. It was absurd.
"There were splinter groups that resisted the agreement, and even some that sought alternate alliances. But when it was all said and done, those elves were either slaughtered, vanished or gave up and took the Dwarves' bargain." Gelebor hesitantly admitted to the folly of desperation that overtook his people in those days, and Lucien wrote down as much as he could. Now, this was a side of History he never would get from books written by speculative Imperial Professors.
"What turned your people into the Betrayed?" Cura asked, her voice laced with sympathy. She knew it had to be worse than just the blindness to reduce a creature as graceful as the Knight-Paladin into the meandering goblins they were now. Those Dwemer had no mercy. The more she considered it, perhaps their disappearance did more good for Tamriel than harm. If the Dwarves would have turned against Humanity, who knows what they would have accomplished, with the Civil War raging on? With their technologies at their disposal and clear conscienceless endeavours. Cura shuddered at the thought as memories of the Ballista piercing her side with a javelin.
"I've often asked myself that very same question." Gelebor admitted. "The blinding of my race was supposedly accomplished with a toxin. Certainly not enough to devolve them into the sad and twisted beings they've become."
The beings Cura was familiar with. Memories of Nchuand-Zel returned to her. Oh, how she wished Lydia were here right now to meet him!
"That's tragic and all, but why weren't the snow elves here affected?" Lucien pointed to the cavern around them.
"The Chantry is quite isolated, so it took some time for word of the dwarves' offer to reach us here. By the time the compact had been completed, it was too late for us to even attempt to intervene." Gelebor sighed sadly as he recalled the fear in his peoples' eyes when their hour came.
"Is that why you had retained your sight?" Lucien asked.
"Correct. We only numbered perhaps a hundred at a time, so our presence remained a secret to the Dwarves and the Nords. Ironically, our undoing came at the hands of our own people." Gelebor's tone elevated, prompting them to recognize the twist.
"You mean the Betrayed." Cura pointed out.
"Yes. They swarmed the Chantry in vast numbers until we were completely overrun. We never really stood a chance. I assume that the Arch-Curate was corrupted by them when they found a way to breach the Inner Sanctum." Gelebor pondered his fate at the time. "I presume he continues to lurk among them, even now."
"Wait... there are others here still like you?" Lucien asked.
"Arch-Curate Vyrthur and myself are the only two Snow Elves that remain." Gelebor admitted disappointedly.
Cura's expression fell. She could not fathom how he must feel, to be of the last members of his uncorrupted race. All that remained of his people were those grotesque monsters. It was tragic.
And to think, the Nords complain about their situation regarding the Empire. She had no doubt they would turn on Knight-Paladin Gelebor if he ever reared his head in Windhelm.
Though, there were always more than one side to every story, and the Snow Elves were not exactly blameless, themselves.
It seemed as though Man and Mer were like Oil and Water from the very beginning.
So where did that leave the Bretons and other Half-Elves?
Serana cut to the chase. "I imagine you know why we're here."
"Of course. You're here for Auriel's Bow. Why else would you be here?" Gelebor pointed it out as if it were obvious from the start. "I can help you get it, but first I must have your assistance."
Cura was surprised by the accuracy. "How did you know?"
"For the thousands of years I've served as the Chantry's sentinel, there hasn't been a single visitor here for any other reason." Gelebor seemed unimpressed as he recounted the general script he'd been accustomed to. "They request Auriel's Bow, and I request their assistance. It's been repeated so many times, I can't imagine it any other way."
"What type of assistance do you need?" Cura offered happily. He was a Paladin, so perhaps it was something of divine nature. In that case, she would be honoured to help him.
Knight-Paladin Gelebor hesitated for a moment, but collected his bearings. "I need you to kill Arch-Curate Vyrthur... my brother."
That was unexpected.
"Kill your brother?! Why?" Cura's devastated shock expressed itself. She could not fathom the idea of killing a family member; it was wrong on so many levels, even if there were times when it were necessary.
Gelebor was not fond of the idea, himself, though he viewed it as most important, almost on par with a holy mission. "The kinship between us is gone. I don't understand what he's become, but he's no longer the brother I once knew. It was the Betrayed... they did something to him, I just don't know why Auri-El would allow this to happen."
Cura looked away. Those were familiar words. Replace "Auri-El'' with "Stendarr", and she'd asked it a thousand times the year past - nay the last six months alone.
"What exactly did the Betrayed do?" Lucien asked. He had said they attacked, but there had to be more to it than that. More importantly, how could they have bewitched the Arch-Curate.
"They swept into the Chantry without warning and began killing everyone without pause." Gelebor relived the horror as he explained it. Though, the pain was low and hollow, passed by centuries of recollection. The Elf was numb to it at this point.
"Didn't you fight back?" Serana nearly chastised him.
Cura shook her head. "I don't think he would risk bringing a large platoon into such a small Sanctuary."
"The Chantry was a place of peaceful worship. I led a small group of paladins, but we were no match for the Betrayed's sheer numbers. They slaughtered everyone and stormed the Inner Sanctum where I believe they corrupted Vyrthur." Gelebor reiterated.
"You don't even know if he's alive." Serana looked unimpressed.
"He's alive. I've seen him. But something's wrong. He never looks as though he's in pain or under duress. He just... stands there and watches, as though waiting." Gelebor seemed a tad paranoid as he spoke of his brother.
"Have you tried getting into the Inner Sanctum?" Serana asked, finding this all hard to get herself behind.
"Leaving the wayshrines unguarded would be violating my sacred duty as a Knight-Paladin of Auri-El. And an assault on the Betrayed guarding the Inner Sanctum would only end with my death." Gelebor admitted.
Inigo began to look around. "What wayshrine?"
"Yes, let me show you." Gelebor placed his hands onto the ground beneath the pond and recited a prayer in his ancient tongue.
Suddenly, the earth below began to tremble and water began to shift and pour down in a central crevice as an arched building slowly raised itself from underneath the sun statue, which was revealed to be the central spire on the magical building.
"Holy cow! Those look like the Ayleid Wayshrines in Cyrodiil!" Lucien's jaw dropped as he racalled the similarities in the architecture.
"The only way to get to my brother is by following in the Initiates' footsteps and traveling from wayshrine to wayshrine just as they did. The first lay at the end of Darkfall Passage, a cavern that represents the absence of enlightenment." Gelebor generously explained the motions.
"So this is snow elf magic. Incredible." Serana watched in awe as the wayshrine settled in place, finally. She had heard tales of the power of the Snow Elves, but to see it for herself was something else entirely. It was as if she were transported back into her lonely bedroom with her history books again, as a child. The sights before her were wondrous, to say the least.
Gelebor explained for the uneducated. "This structure is known as a wayshrine. They were used for meditation and for transport when the Chantry was a place of enlightenment. The Prelates of these shrines were charged with teaching the mantras of Auri-El to our Initiates."
Serana pointed towards a font in the center of the inner shrine, catching Cura's attention to it. "What's that basin in the center signify?"
"Hmm... yeah..." Cura wondered. Was it Holy Water or some kind? That would be incredibly useful against the Vampires, for certain. She recalled Carcette telling her about the Chapels in Bhoriane, where they sold Holy Water for the adherents to use in the face of Vampires or other Undead. It was a shame that Skyrim didn't have such temples within. Perhaps the one in Solitude might do it, but she was unsure.
Gelebor laid a hand on the structure. "Once the Initiate completed his mantras, he'd dip a ceremonial ewer in the basin at the wayshrine's center and proceed to the next wayshrine."
Serana scoffed, the magic wearing off, as it would seem, becoming replaced with cynicism. "So these Initiates had to lug around a heavy pitcher of water. Marvelous. How long would they have to do that?"
Gelebor scratched his chin. "Well, once the Initiate's enlightenment was complete, he'd bring the ewer to the Chantry's Inner Sanctum. Pouring the contents of the ewer into the sacred basin of the Sanctum would allow him to enter for an audience with the Arch-Curate himself."
Serana exchanged a puzzled glance with Cura, and questioned the logic. "All that just to end up dumping it out? Makes no sense to me."
Gelebor rolled his crystal blue eyes, not having expected them to discern the meaning behind it. "It's symbolic. I don't expect you to understand."
Serana crossed her arms and tilted her head. "So let's get this straight. We need to do all that nonsense to get into the temple, so we can kill your brother and claim Auriel's Bow?"
Gelebor had nothing to hide, and nothing more to proclaim on the matter. "I know how it all sounds, but if there was another way I'd have done it long ago. The only way to get to my brother is by following in the Initiates' footsteps and traveling from wayshrine to wayshrine just as they did. The first lay at the end of Darkfall Passage, a cavern that represents the absence of enlightenment."
Lucien raised a hand. "How many more wayshrines are there?"
"There are five in total, spread far apart across the Chantry." Gelebor made an overarching sweeping movement with his arms as if to convey the region.
Serana was surprised. "These caves must be massive."
"Caves? Oh, no. The Chantry encompasses far more than a few caves, as you'll soon discover. But before I send you on your way, you'll need the Initiate's Ewer." Gelebor walked inside of the wayshrine and pulled up what appeared to be an ornate ivory-crafted pitcher of sorts from within the font. He gently handed the simultaneously heavy and fragile-looking object to Cura.
Cura stared at the ewer in her hands, observing the intricate designs on it. "So I need to fill this at each wayshrine?"
Serana was unimpressed by the pitcher's appearance. It seemed like a hindrance, if anything.
"Once you've located a wayshrine, there will be a spectral Prelate tending to it. They will allow you to draw the waters from the shrine's basin as if you've been enlightened." Gelebor stated.
"We'll be off, then." Cura stated, readying to pass through the portal. They've stood around and talked enough, she felt.
Gelebor halted her in that moment. "This may be the last time we're able to converse. If you have any questions before you leave, I suggest you ask them. Otherwise, all I can do now is grant you my hopes for a safe journey." As he approached and laid his hands on her shoulders, Knight-Paladin Gelebor looked into Cura's eyes and noticed something rather different within them. "Hmm. How fascinating! You are a child of Auri-El. You have his gift upon you, to do battle against the Wyrms."
Cura nodded. "Yes, I am called Dragonborn."
"A hybrid between a High Elf and a Nord, who is also a blessed Child of Auri-El. I can see his fire burning behind your pupils." Gelebor seemed both awestruck and a little bewildered as he studied the Dragonborn's eyes with closer inspection, causing Cura to shy away lightly. "You are truly a special case, indeed. Perhaps your existence means to bring the conflict between Man and Mer to a conclusion. I suppose only time will tell."
"And time is another of Auriel's spheres." Cura stated, recalling Akatosh once more. "So, I suppose it really will."
The sun truly was "the eye of the Dragon."
"Err, ah, excuse me? Can you tell me a bit more about the Chantry of Auri-El? Sorry to interrupt." Lucien raised his hand and pointed to the wayshrine as his thirst for knowledge consumed him.
"This is, or was, the epicenter of our religion." Gelebor was more than proud to begin to explain. "Most of the Snow Elf people worshipped Auri-El. The Chantry was constructed near the beginning of the First Era to provide a retreat for those that wished to become enlightened."
"'Most' Snow Elves?" Lucien inquired further. "Not all?"
"Our empire had temples to some of the other deities: Trinimac, Syrabane, Jephre and Phynaster rounded out the rest. But those temples paled in comparison to the glory of the Chantry and its wayshrines." Gelebor humbly bragged, throwing his arms up into the air enthusiastically.
Bretons followed Jephre and Phynaster. Those were names Cura was familiar with when she had asked Carcette about High Rock in the past. Though Trinimac hated Humans. That one concerned her a little. Perhaps it was the adherents to Trinimac who engaged the Nords first, and in typical Nord fashion, they retaliated against anything that looked like an Elf in response.
"The... wayshrines are part of the Chantry then?" Lucien asked.
Gelebor began to pace back and forth through the shallow pond. "Oh yes. They were an important part of the process here. They represented the steps the Initiates took on the path to total enlightenment. Sadly, the magic used to construct these wonders were lost long before I arrived here." He cleared his throat. "Though, there lurk now ghosts of the snow elf priests - the prelates I've mentioned - that tended the wayshrines before being slaughtered by the Betrayed. Through the grace of Auri-El they were restored to their spectral form to enable them to continue their duties."
"Good, they should be able to help us." Serana mused.
Gelebor shook his head. "I'm afraid in their current form, they still believe the Chantry to be an active center of worship. They won't respond to you in any way other than believing that you're an Initiate and you're undertaking the journey to the Inner Sanctum."
"I suppose I can try and pass for an Initiate." Cura wondered. "Do you think I could pass for a Snow Elf?"
"If you wear enough powder, maybe." Inigo joked, causing Cura to smirk in response.
"Well... whatever the case, it is a kind of enlightenment I seek." Cura stated. "I'll simply express my desire to connect with my Elven heritage." It wasn't a lie, per say. Cura was more than fascinated by this alien culture. Perhaps she could learn a few things and even bring them up to Elenwen at some point if she decides to yake her up on the offer to visit her. Only time will tell.
"May the light of Auri-El illuminate your darkest hour." Knight-Paladin Gelebor blessed the group.
Cura walked inside first and noticed a faint image of what appeared to be the interior of a cavern behind the white bricks. She touched the surface, causing it to ripple, and held her breath as she stepped through.
Serana confidently passed next, and then Inigo, and then Lucien, who was finishing his note-taking as he walked. "I've collected so much new insight! The people back home will never believe this! Say, Candle, do you think I could keep the Ewer when you're done?"
"When we're done, we shall see." Cura stated. "I don't know if it's allowed or not."
The group continued to walk through the shadows of the fabric of woven time and exited through to the other side; a beautiful crystalline cavern with fuchsia-hued walls and laboured glowing mushrooms along the walls and floor, as well as mystic and exotic plants that none of them had ever seen before. They were n a small chamber with the remains of a wayshrine studded behind them, and surrounded by strange glowing pink tubular plants and glowing mushrooms.
"So Cura will kill the Arch-Curate." Inigo chuckled mischievously as he emphasized the word and her name. "Eh? Eh?"
"Come on." Cura called him out on it. "You could do much better than that, Inigo. I'm disappointed."
Inigo shrugged. "I am sorry, but after that conversation, my mind is a sky without birds at the moment."
"I don't blame you; it sounded like nonsense." Serana expressed her irritation. "I guess we'd better get started then, right?"
Cura nodded. "Yes; let's fill this ewer and defeat Vyrthur - and hopefully Gelebor will tell us where Auriel's Bow is."
"Cura, I think that once we get it, you should wield Auriel's Bow." Inigo admitted. "You are a Child of Auri-El, so it only makes sense."
Cura pouted and hung her shoulders. "I'd honestly prefer it to be in capable hands. I'm not that good of a shot with Bow and Arrows. I can do it, but I'm nowhere near as precise as you, Inigo."
"Do not sell yourself short, my friend. You can do more than you realize." Inigo offered words of encouragement to his friend.
Serana nodded in agreement. "I agree with Inigo. I think the Bow will warm up to you very quickly, being from the same origin as yourself."
"To think, if I wielded Auriel's Bow, I would be a Vigilant of Stendarr walking around with a Daedric sword, a Daedric shield, and an Aedric bow." Cura mused as she continued to walk through the winding cavern. "How quaint."
Serana was picking some of the strange ingredients, and Lucien began to sketch them out. One he began to call a "Gleamblossom" - a sad, bluish bellflower. Once she tugged on a shining mushroom, a nearby flower shook virulently and released spores into the air, and Lucien dove out of the way to avoid them. "Whoa!"
"Be careful!" Serana scolded him. "I can resist it, but you can't!"
Lucien nodded. "Duly noted, ma'am!"
As they passed the halls, the environment was dimly lit by bioluminescent plants and fungi, including the glowing mushrooms and unique glowing pink plants which retracted their glowing segments as Cura and her friends walked past them. Cura admired the beauty of it all as she led the group through with Serana at her side.
A Falmer immediately dropped down on the group with a blade in his hands, roaring like a goblin. Inigo quickly burst him with a well-placed shot, and Cura smashed his face with her mace, breaking his skull.
She then continued on through the sludgy water and emerged on the other side, where the group was greeted by an incredible sight at the end of the small passage: a large, open area with more bioluminescent flora adorning the area, with a closed cavern ceiling, large, glowing blue mushrooms, shining pollen in the air, and a natural sloped environment leading down to a glowing baby blue lake below. There were also the strangest deer Cura could never have even imagined; having dark fur but having glowing yellow, green and blue patterns along their pelt. There also looked to be matching Saber Cats off in the distance, so they would have to be careful.
Torchbugs flew in the air amongst the pollen, and the entire scene proved a beautiful painting to the eyes of the group.
Truly awe-inspiring.
"Wow... I've never seen anything like it..." Cura was floored by the beauty before her. She looked around in all directions.
"Candle, do you think I could sketch a few things before we go?" Lucien asked politely as he studied the environment. "This is for the sake of science!"
Cura nodded. "Sure. I suppose we can take a moment to rest here." She decided to take the opportunity herself to rest up for the remainder of the journey, herself. It was not going to get easier, so a bit of respite wouldn't hurt.
Inigo sat in a nearby patch of grass, and Serana sat near Cura against a tree.
"You know, I never would have pictured us in this sort of environment. I'm used to caves, but as far as they go, this one is very... nice." Serana enthused about the location. "I've never seen such a beautiful cavern before. The plants themselves are very pretty, and the animals are so..." She twirled her hand as she tried to come up with the words.
"...Distinguished." Cura finished the sentence.
"Yeah." Serana nodded. "That's a good word for it."
"I never would have anticipated this, either." Cura admitted with a chuckle. "I wish that my old Housecarl could be here... I wonder what she would have thought?" No matter how much time has passed, she still found herself thinking about Lydia every so often.
"Lydia would most certainly have called Lucien a moron for pulling those plants." Inigo stated with a laugh.
"I can hear you, you know!" Lucien called out from a ledge adjacent to them.
Inigo stuck his tongue out at him, and turned back to the Torchbug he was playing with in the grass. "See, Mr. Dragonfly? I found you a friend!" He held out the jar containing the dragonfly towards the torchbug like an excited child playing with dolls.
"You are so bizarre." Lucien remarked as he continued to attempt to sketch a deer.
The respite would not last forever, but the group would enjoy it for its duration as they contemplated the road ahead.
