"Effects of the Elder Scrolls
by Justinius Poluhnius
A thesis on the four different types of readers of the Elder Scrolls
It is widely known among scholars that the Elder Scrolls entail a certain hazard in their very reading. The mechanism of the effects has, at present, been largely unknown - theories of hidden knowledge and divine retribution were the subject of idle speculation with little investigation.
I, Justinius Poluhnius, have undertaken to thoroughly document the ailments afflicted by the Elder Scrolls on their readers, though a unified theory of how they manifest continues to elude me and remains a subject for future study.
I have grouped the effects into four, finding that the avenue of experience depends largely upon the mind of the reader. If this is unclear, I hope that a proper dichotomy will lay it plain.
Group the First: The Naifs
For one who has received no training in the history or nature of the Elder Scrolls, the scroll itself is, effectively, inert. No prophecy can be scried nor knowledge obtained. While the scroll will not impart learning to the uninformed, nor will it afflict them in any adverse fashion. Visually, the scroll will appear to be awash in odd lettering and symbols. Those who know their astronomy often claim to recognize constellations in the patterns and connections, but such conjecture is impossible to further investigate since the very nature of this study necessitates unlearned subjects.
Group the Second: The Unguarded Intellects
It is this second group that realizes the greatest danger from attempting to read the scrolls. These are subjects who have an understanding of the nature of the Elder Scrolls and possess sufficient knowledge to actually read what is inscribed there. They have not, however, developed adequate discipline to stave off the mind-shattering effect of having a glimpse of infinity. These unfortunate souls are struck immediately, irrevocably, and completely blind. Such is the price for overreaching one's faculties. It bears mentioning, though, that with the blindness also comes a fragment of that hidden knowledge - whether the future, the past, or the deep natures of being is dependent on the individual and their place in the greater spheres. But the knowledge does come.
Group the Third: Mediated Understanding
Alone in Tamriel, it would appear that only the Cult of the Ancestor Moth has discovered the discipline to properly guard one's mind when reading the scrolls. Their novitiates must undergo the most rigorous mental cultivation, and they often spend a decade or more at the monastery before being allowed to read their first Elder Scroll. The monks say this is for the initiates' own protection, as they must have witnessed many Unguarded Intellects among their more eager ranks. With appropriate fortitude, these readers also receive blindness, though at a far lesser magnitude than the Unguarded. Their vision fogs slightly, but they retain shape, color, and enough acuity to continue to read mundane texts. The knowledge they gain from the scroll is also tempered somewhat - it requires stages of meditation and reflection to fully appreciate and express what one saw.
Group the Fourth: Illuminated Understanding
Between the previous group and this one exists a continuum that has, at present, only been traversed by the monks of the Ancestor Moth. With continued readings the monks become gradually more and more blind, but receive greater and more detailed knowledge. As they spend their waking hours pondering the revelations, they also receive a further degree of mental fortitude. There is, for every monk, a day of Penultimate Reading, when the only knowledge the Elder Scroll imparts is that the monk's next reading shall be his last.
For each monk the Penultimate Reading comes at a different and unknowable time - preliminary work has been done to predict the occurrence by charting the severity of an individual monk's blindness, but all who reach these later stages report that the increasing blindness seems to taper with increased readings. Some pose the notion that some other, unseen, sense is, in fact, continuing to diminish at this upper range, but I shall leave such postulations to philosophers.
To prepare for his Ultimate Reading, a monk typically withdraws to seclusion in order to reflect upon a lifetime of revelations and appoint his mind for reception of his last. Upon this final reading, he is forever blinded as sure as those Unguarded ones who raced to knowledge. The Illuminated one, though, has retained his understanding over a lifetime and typically possesses a more integral notion of what has been revealed to him.
It is hoped that this catalog will prove useful to those who wish to further our mortal understanding of the Elder Scrolls. The Moth priests remain aloof about these matters, taking the gradual debilitation that comes with reading as a point of pride. May this serve as a useful starting point for those hoping to take up such study.
Dictated to Anstius Metchim, 4th of Last Seed in the 126th year of the Second Era"
The fields and hills were green and spurling with rich wildlife. It was a nice change from most of Skyrim. Sadly, once they reached the mountains, the landscape returned to a much familiar snowscape.
Heading west, they came upon a familiar sight, to Cura.
A burned down city lay on the end of the path; Helgen. Its wreckage could be seen beyond the tattered walls. Cura stared at the burnt gate and took a couple of steps forward, and stopped in her tracks. She had forgotten it was in these mountains; most of the scenario she'd hoped to have expunged from her memory by now.
"Why did you stop?" Serana asked, nothing the abruptness of Cura's decision.
"This was the city... where I was supposed to be executed." Cura pointed at the wreckage.
Agmaer looked at her with great surprise. "You were going to be executed in Helgen?"
Cura nodded solemnly. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. The empire was in the process of capturing the Stormcloaks, and Ulfric himself. My ally, Vigilant Bruna and I were at Darkwater Crossing when it happened. She was slain, but I was captured, stripped of my belongings and placed on a cart. I sat beside Ulfric Stormcloak. Was it fate, or chance? I can never figure it out."
Inigo understood what she meant, but decided not to add any input.
Cura scratched her chin. "If you don't mind, I'd like to see the wreckage. I need to put this behind me once and for all." She walked on ahead and pushed open the ruined gate.
There were small stone tower piles built over burnt corpses and much of the wreckage was cleared. It seemed as though Skyrim was already beginning to move on, almost one year after the destruction.
So why couldn't Cura?
She looked up towards the keep, which Alduin landed upon and Shouted into the skies. "His voice rocked the land, like thunder." Cura recalled aloud as she stared at the spot.
"Who's voice?" Serana asked.
"Alduin's." Cura explained. "His Thu'um... it was like nothing I have ever seen before... even now."
"What was that like, being in front of the World-Eater?" Agmaer asked.
"It was like seeing your death replayed over and over again in the span of ten seconds, in various different and very gruesome ways." Cura shivered in the cold. "Every time I recall it, I become that scared girl again. How can I compete with that beast?"
"Well, you handled Durnehviir very well." Serana stated. "Don't lower yourself."
"Alduin is nothing like the other Dragons." Cura stated. "He's a beast of his own. A god among Dragons. There's no wonder Durnehviir tried to bargain for more power. His own was nothing next to Alduin."
"My friend, you can do anything!" Inigo reassured her. "Do not-aggh!" He quickly grabbed hold of his head.
"Inigo, are you all right?" Cura observed his sudden shot of pain and leapt forward to his side. She softly laid her hands on his upper arms.
"Oooh... I think it must have been those Sweetrolls..." Inigo massaged his forehead. "That's better. Phew."
"Be careful with those, or you'll turn into a Sweet Troll!" Agmaer said with a little chuckle. "My mother always used to warn about that."
"I suppose I'm fortunate to be undead." Serana mused. "I can enjoy them without regret."
"Lucky." Inigo scoffed. "Let's move on."
Cura agreed and continued to walk through the condemned town. She walked around the other side of the keep and saw the carriage entrance. "The Thalmor were right there, with Elenwen. They were trying to stop the execution of Ulfric Stormcloak, but General Tullius wasn't having it."
"Don't the Stormcloaks and the Thalmor hate eachother?" Serana asked. "I'm new to this era, but I'm pretty sure that's all I've been hearing about; a war between the Empire, the Stormcloaks, and the Aldmeri Dominion."
"You heard right. They do, as organizations. But individuals can be different." Cura stated cryptically.
Serana stared at Cura for a moment, studying her green eyes. "You know something about it. I can tell."
"Well, I won't." Cura responded smugly. There was no way she was going to tell them about Ulfric, Elenwen, and herself.
Inigo giggled. "No, that's our little secret. Sorry."
"Inigo..." Cura put up her index finger and pointed at him as if to warn him.
"Do not worry, friend! Your secret is safe with me!" Inigo promised.
"You said that the first time, too." Cura reminded him with a pout.
"It proved most beneficial in the end, though." Inigo reminded her that it got her name cleared in Markarth.
"Still! Shhh!" Cura hushed him with a finger over her mouth.
Agmaer and Serana both smirked and Inigo rolled his eyes.
"Was it here that you first discovered you were Dragonborn?" Serana turned to Cura.
The Breton shook her head. "No, that was in the fields of Whiterun. Before I joined the Companions. This was where my journey of discovery began, though. On the final day of Last Seed."
"And now here you are again, with us." Agmaer examined. "I guess a lot has changed in almost a year."
"I can't believe we're already in Sun's Height." Cura scratched her forehead. "Well... let's get moving. The sooner we get that Scroll translated, the sooner we can embark to wherever it directs us next."
Agmaer lowered his head and continued to trek around the ruins and down the hill. "I hope it goes smoothly."
"It is for a good purpose." Inigo reminded him comfortingly as they continued to trek westward into the mountain's outer border.
"Are you in the mood for an improvised song, Inigo?" Cura asked her friend, earning a visceral cringe from Serana.
"Sure, my friend!" Inigo lit up. "Let's see..."
"He sings?" Agmaer asked, as it was not the first thing he'd expect from the blue Khajiit.
"He screeches." Serana said flatly.
"As we were walking along, my friend asked me to sing us a song - I thought up a tune, and then some words..." Inigo began. "And my friend wandered off and I followed along! I will follow you a-ny-where, I will main your boredom and kill your despair!~"
After an hour of walking and Inigo's singing, they came upon the location marked upon Cura's map.
"...We are adventurers tough and brave! If you fight with us you are digging your own grave!" Inigo came to a closing finish. "Theeee eeeennnnd!"
Agmaer clapped, and Cura laughed with amusement. Serana, however, finally lowered her hands from her ears. While Inigo's songs were entertaining in content, she found his voice to be quite shrill.
"Thank the gods!" Serana exclaimed. "We're finally there!"
The entrance to the Ancestor Glade was high in the mountains, above the snowline region east of Falkreath, and south of Pinewatch. A few paces to the northeast of the entrance, behind a large rock, was an old campsite with an extinguished campfire, with two pots hanging over it. Clearly others have come up here before, as well.
Agmaer looked into the gaping crevice before them and swallowed. "Here goes. I may or may not come out of here whole."
"Don't worry, Agmaer - either way, we won't leave you." Cura promised him, taking his hand into hers. "We're right here."
Inigo nodded reassuringly. "Yes! Indeed! Do not fear the Scroll - fear what happens if we cannot read it!"
"At best we'd end up in a stalemate against the vampires." Agmaer pondered. "We can't afford that. We have to be on top of them. All right, let's go in."
The entrance descended into an overgrown passage that lead the group straight into a to a dead end. Though, the path on the left followed the earthen wall, leading them across a fallen tree that was suspended over a lower pathway like a bridge, and then they headed into another short tunnel opening up to the main glade.
The cavernous area was more beautiful than anything Cura had seen before. Visions of beautiful streaming light fell upon the gorgeous waterfalls that trickled down the foliage-shrouded earth and into a shallow basin below, where natural springs ran in abundance.
Agmaer's doubts and fears were distracted by the beautiful view, and he had no words to describe his feelings towards it. He only knew that if this were the last sight he'd ever see, it would be worth it in the end.
Serana's jaw dropped as she saw the spectacular grove. "Wow. Look at this place. No one's been here in centuries. I doubt there's any other place like it in Skyrim. It's beautiful."
Stone monuments littered the pathways, and flocks of different-looking Moths congregated in well-lit areas.
"It is beautiful..." Cura witnessed as her eyes took in it all. Tears beaded in the corners of them as she absorbed the gorgeous landscape. It felt as though she and her friends had stepped inside of a very detailed, very elaborate painting, and she wished in this point of time, that she could live here forever. It would be a nice ending; Cura and her friends forego their adventure and live happily ever after among the beautiful Ancestor Moths and fairies and waterfalls.
As if.
There was no time to tarry. They had to take care of important matters and leave.
"Wow... I've never seen anything like this in all of Tamriel..." Inigo mused in awe as he ran ahead. "At times like these, I wish I could capture these beautiful landscapes forever! But sadly, I am an artist of only the musical kind."
Unseen Visions were felt throughout the open air as Cura and her friends descended deeper and deeper into the cavern.
Small, luminous fairies of many chromatic colours darted in the air above, and Spriggans sat amidst the glade, watching the group as they passed them by. Cura, noticing the fierce nature spirits, went down on one knee and made them an offering: a generous Potion of Major Magicka.
"We only seek to read an Elder Scroll. We will do no unnecessary harm to the glade, save for some tree bark." Cura informed them. "It's for a good cause, I promise."
One of the Spriggans stood up and walked towards Cura, and knelt down to retrieve the potion. The treelike spirit examined it for a moment, and simply gave the Breton a courteous nod and returned to its seat on a log in the grass.
A beautiful rainbow arched over the center of the grove, and once the group reached it, it revealed its truth as an iridescent halo above, blessing their voyage.
As they entered the main area, the wooden gate closed behind them, as if to prevent them from leaving before the deed is done.
There were many harvestable plants found in the area, and Serana made it a point to gather useful alchemical ingredients along the way.
"Well, we've got the knife... now all we need to do is track down one of those Canticle Trees." Serana stated.
Agmaer took out the Draw Knife that Dexion had given to him. "So... how does this work?"
Inigo began to look around and affected a thoughtful expression as he stroked the fur on his chin. "I am thinking it will probably be the most obvious one, luminated by the heavens, if I am understanding the way prophecy works these days."
"I think that's the Canticle tree over there." Cura swiftly pointed to a large, gnarling tree adorned with beautiful golden-orange foliage in the center of the field, beyond a stone Dolmen. "If you cut the bark from it, the Moths' should flock towards you."
"What did I tell you?" Inigo shrugged, .
Serana was unmoved. "Hope the moths like that bark as much as Dexion said they would."
"It sounds so ridiculous." Agmaer soured. "But, I'll do it." He swallowed nervously and quickly approached the Canticle tree and sheared some of the bark off. The knife seemed to gnaw it off with ease, save for getting snagged in a corner at one point, but this was more due to Agmaer's novelty with the blade than anything else. As the wood shedded, sap too began to pour out onto the piece of bark.
It didn't take long for the Ancestor Moths to pick up on the scent, and like helpful friends, they began to loftly flutter about and circulate around Agmaer.
"Damn moths! Why are they doing that?" Agmaer complained when a moth landed on his arm. He began to try and swat the ones that came close to his face, but they only seemed to persevere the more he resisted.
Cura giggled at the show on display, and brought a hand in front of her mouth habitually. "Ha ha. They seem quite fond of you now that you're carrying some of the tree bark. Though, I guess we should have seen this coming, with you playing the role of a Moth Priest. Moth Priests, moths... they're associates in more than just the work, it seems." As more and more approached, it only confirmed her point. It certainly was a fascinating spectacle to behold.
"Look at them... they've definitely taken a liking to you. And unless I'm seeing things, you're starting to... glimmer." Serana observed a faint golden glow around the boy.
"Yes, you are looking like a giant bug lamp!" Inigo pointed at him and laughed.
"Now what?" Agmaer asked, still struggling with nervousness for his daunting task.
"The effect around you looks an awful lot like that huge column of light shining on the dais. Let's check that out." Serana pointed to a flat platform surrounded by odd pillars across from them, justing lightly out of the water.
More and more of the cute Moths began to whirl around Agmaer. The tingling sensation they provided was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
Cura smiled as a moth gently grazed her cheek when she closed in the distance between them. "Are you ready for this, Agmaer? I'm going to do my best by you. Don't worry."
"As long as you're here. Please, Cura - don't fall asleep!" Agmaer slowly stepped between the strange pillars and onto the platform. His hands trembled as he took out the two Elder Scrolls: the one Serana had given them, and the one Valerica had given them, in his left and right hands, respectively. He nearly dropped the scroll in his left hand and began to break out in a cold sweat.
Cura placed her hand on his right shoulder, and her right hand on his right arm. She chuckled at his assertion. "Of course. Just focus - listen to the Moths. They're supposed to be your guide. Follow them and you should see it correctly - I'm going to restore your physical form in case there are minute damages being done to your eyes."
This was it. He was either going to read them successfully, or this would be the final thing he would ever see in his life. "I'm ready." Agmaer swayed to the side as he brought up both scrolls, still rolled up. He held them upwards, facing the shining light from above.
Cura prudently cast a continuous Healing Spell on Agmaer as he held out both scrolls, superimposing one over the other.
Heeding Carcette's advice, he closed his right eye and glared with his left as the Moths' humming filled his mind.
A sudden flash of teal light raced through his eye and into his mind, forming a link with the divine. "HWUUAH!" Afmaer shrieked when a burning sensation rippled through his retinas and into his mind.
It was all there - the Dwemer's disappearance, Talos and the Numidium razing the Summerset Isles, Anu and Padomay's creation, the Et'Ada, the Oblivion Crisis in the Imperial City, the Aurbis, Mundus, Tamriel lurking with Beastmen, and Nords fighting Snow elves, the Hall of the Vigilants being decimated by Vampires, the Dragons destroying a Dragon Priest in strange robes on the Isle of Solstheim, the destruction of a crypt underneath Bravil and a fleeing Jester with a decorative coffin in a wagon, the Direnni High Elves with their Nedic victims, the construction of the Adamantine Tower following the defeat of Lorkhan and the geoformation of Red Mountain, the Lich king haunting High Rock, Saint Alessia treading the hillsides with Pelinal Whitestrake and Morihaus the man-bull, the Nerevarine and the Divines of Morrowind, Jagar Tharn's betrayal, Mankar Camoran's destruction, Cura running towards Alduin, mace in hand, leading three strangers into battle as the sky circled with lights above her, Molag Bal being defeated in his own realm by a strange being aided by Meridia, Sheogorath laughing upon his throne and laughing maniacally, the Dawnguard firing crossbow bolts against the unknown...
Insanity.
Many, many more visions rushed through his mind; all of existence flooded his thoughts. Events such as the Imperial Simulacrum, The Warp in the West, the rise of Dagoth Ur with the Heart of Lorkhan, within a large, abominable construct, and the Nerevarine opposite to him, charging the heart with a sword, the fall of the Tribunal Temple, the establishment of Raven Rock, the final Greymarch in the Shivering Isles, and the assassination of Uriel Septim VII and his heirs by the Mythic Dawn in the sewers beneath the Imperial City. He then saw the Great War and all of its devastation upon the Empire, the Emperor, Titus Mede II, forced to sign the White-Gold Concordat, and the capture of Ulfric Stormcloak.
CURA! HELP ME! Agmaer could only wail within his own mind as his mouth could not open. He continued to see the Dragons and the Vampires circling like sharks against an underwater victim, and bits of the world at large - even foreign lands he had never known of, though he could make no sense of them as they passed him by in a vicious cyclone. It was as though he were within a large projection chamber, seeing the universe before him, behind him, above him, below him, and adjacent to him.
Agmaer felt ill; he could not understand what he was seeing - Aedra, Daedra, blackness, whiteness, coldness, warmth, upwards, downwards, sideways; all was utter confusion. Everything spun on its axis, and he could see something beginning to take shape directly ahead of him, and Ancestor Moths made themselves known to him, gently caressing the distressed young man.
He saw Cura materialized before him, though he knew it was not she, as she was holding onto him. This was instead an illusion; a vision of sorts conjured up by the magical forces at work. This Cura beckoned to him with a smile and gestured for him to follow her through the long corridor of sights and experiences unknown. They tread on a path made of light that rippled like the surface of water with every taken footstep. The Moths followed her, as well, and their song began to turn from a mere shuffle of wings to a small whisper, to a light keening, to a loud shimmering akin to that of the sound of a Nirnroot, then to a divine cacophony of sacred choral hums and murmurings.
Agmaer found himself becoming absorbed into the song and allowed it to guide his steps. When he extended far enough, a vision began to materialize in cadence with the melody. The closer he was to the truth, the louder the voices became.
The fake Cura walked through what seemed to be a barrier and then shifted into a white dragon, and spread open her protective wings, and enveloped her friend, and then vanished, and the Moths circulated around this one seemingly blank wall in infinity. This drew Agmaer closer to it, and he placed a hand upon the blank void. Then, he saw a map-like object that began to glow. Notable features revealed themselves, like two red symbols, the one at the lower left representing the Ram standard of Markarth, and the one at the upper right representing the red Wolf of Solitude. The lines around the picture symbolized rivers. The location of Auriel's Bow is shown by the small white symbol, similar to the Elder glyph, and was shown near the head of the river in the top-left quadrant of the map.
With a great shockwave of energy, Agmaer's vision faded to white. "GYAAAAAH!" he cried out with surprise. He dropped both scrolls and held his hands on the sides of his head and hunched forward.
This shriek startled everyone surrounding, but Cura continued to maintain her Healing Hands upon him until he came to again. With laboured breath, Agmaer slowly blinked a couple of times. His sight was blurred greatly, and out of focus, and plagued with colourful dark spots.
"Agmaer! Are you all right?" Cura asked, momentarily horrified until he raised his head once more.
It took a few seconds, but a miracle occurred; with each blink, the blurry vision slowly became clearer and clearer, and his friends began to come into focus. Agmaer closed his eyes again and began to rub them with his fingers to soothe them. When they opened again finally, they were very bloodshot and throbbing painfully within his sockets.
"Whoa! You look as though you've smoked too much pipe Skooma! Are you well, my friend?" Inigo worriedly approached.
"Are you okay? Almost thought we lost you there... you went white as the snow." Serana asked the young man.
"Never mind that... it worked!" Agmaer exclaimed with laughter as he continued to see the world around him, in spite of the migraine beginning to set in. He quickly latched onto Cura and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You wonderful, wonderful Breton! You saved me!"
Cura laughed and embraced him back. "Good! I'm happy that worked out for the best!" Truly, she did not want him to lose his sight or face any ill on her behalf - though his sacrifice was meaningful just the same, and Cura would certainly repay him in some way down the road. Perhaps, if he truly saw glimpses of the future, he's probably already seen that.
"After everything we've been through, it had damn well better have worked. What about Auriel's Bow? Do you know where we can find it?" Serana crossed her arms cynically. For all she knew, he could slowly lose his mind any second and start babbling incoherently. After all, he did just read an Elder Scroll.
"It's in a place called Darkfall Cave." Agmaer stated as he recalled the map displayed before his very soul.
"Then it's almost over. We can finally rewrite the prophecy as we see fit. Where is this "Darkfall Cave?""
Agmaer turned to Serana. "What do you know about Auriel's Bow?"
"Not much. If you read any history, it shows up from time to time, but it's a hard thing to track. As far as I know, though, it's never been held by a vampire. That would be a new one." Serana mused.
"Hopefully never." Cura asserted. "Unless you want to use it to strike down Harkon."
Serana gave it some thought, and then shook her head. "Look; I'll be the first to admit I'm not much with a bow."
Inigo raised his hand. "My friend, I am the greatest Archer in Tamriel! Erandur himself has said my aim is immaculate! Allow me to show Auri-El how to properly use a bow."
Cura raised her brows. "Watch the blasphemy, Inigo! Don't get us in trouble!"
What does it have to do with the sun?
"Auriel is one of the elven gods. He's with the rest of them in Aetherius. The way I've heard it, the sun represents the connection from our world to theirs. Supposedly, the bow draws its energy from the sun itself, which is why it shows up in that prophecy."
"Blasphemy? No! Doesn't one of the Ten Commands say not to lie?" Inigo asked.
Cura began to recite them: "1. Be kind and generous to the people of Tamriel. Protect the weak, heal the sick, and give to the needy.
2. Honor the earth, it's creatures, and the spirits, living and dead. Guard and tend the bounties of the mortal world, and do not profane the spirits of the dead.
3. Live soberly and peacefully. Honor your parents, and preserve the peace and security of home and family.
4. Work hard, and you will be rewarded. Spend wisely, and you will be comfortable. Never steal, or you will be punished.
5. Be strong for war. Be bold against enemies and evil, and defend the people of Tamriel.
6. Use Nature's gifts wisely. Respect her power, and fear her fury.
7. Open your heart to the noble secrets of art and love. Treasure the gifts of friendship. Seek joy and inspiration in the mysteries of love.
8. Know the truth. Observe the law. When in doubt, seek wisdom from the wise.
9. Serve and obey your Emperor. Study the Covenants. Worship the Nine, do your duty, and heed the commands of the saints and priests.
10. Above all else, be good to one another "
Inigo's face fell, and his ears drooped shamefully. "Oh, boy... I think I am headed right to Oblivion."
"So, where is this Darkfall cave?" Serana returned to the matter at hand.
Agmaer massaged the temples of his head. "Ooooh... er, somewhere North of Markarth, but in the Mountainous region."
"So, is it closer to Skyrim, or to High Rock?" Cura asked. If it were in High Rock, she'd be more than excited to go, as she always wanted to see the Home of the Bretons for herself.
"Right in the center. Oooh..." Agmaer stumbled backwards lightly.
Cura moved forward to catch him. "Oh, no..."
"It's nothing... just a little dizzy..." Agmaer's head was spinning now, certainly a side effect of some sort from the eldritch encounter he had just before. He nearly fell over again when he took a step off the platform. "Oh! Very dizzy! ...I'll... when we get back to the Fort, I think I'm going to lie down for a day or two..."
"Of course. You've earned it." Cura agreed with the idea.
Inigo made it his priority to pick up the Scrolls, when suddenly the distinct odour of rot filled his nostrils, coming down the upper pathway. "Oh, come on! Are you serious right now?!"
"It's the Dawnguard! Let none escape!" came a voice from the shadowy nook above, descending the lower pathway.
Cura immediately knew. The voice cue was unneeded for her to recognize what Inigo had smelled. She was growing keener towards discerning Vampires, and immediately turned around to face a group of six of them. "Hello." She said flatly. "Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe file your claws down or something?" She knew by now that fear only empowered them, so perhaps looking upon them with scorn would help in the long run.
The Master Vampire fired a bolt of lightning and one of the others behind him summoned a Gargoyle.
Serana began to hiss lightly at her fellow undead and Inigo readied his crossbow. "Say hello to my little friend!" Immediately, he loosed an Explosive Bolt of Lightning, which crashed into the center vampire and pinned him to the wall. The excess electricity arc'd through the water, jolting the others.
Unfortunately, Cura and Serana were also standing in the water, and the current caught them, as well. Inigo grit his teeth when Cura grunted in pain upon receiving the end of the shockwave. "Inigo! The Flame Bolt! U-use the Flame Bolt!"
"I am sorry, my friend! I forgot for a moment of how lightning and water interact!" Inigo rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as Cura cast a Healing Spell.
Serana shook her head at him, unimpressed, and moreso frustrated at the reckless maneuver.
The Gargoyle lunged forward at Cura, who held up her shield and thrusted it upwards, causing the beast to be lifted up into the air mid-flight. and head straight into a wall.
Agmaer withdrew his Dwarven Crossbow and fired a bolt towards where he could see the vampires, but it was no use; his vision wobbled and he saw doubles of them. His bolt hit the wall above one of heir heads and the fiend merely laughed. "is that the best you can do, Mortal?" She then ran down the natural ramp and lunged at him, claws bared.
Cura leapt to her left and put her shield up again, and butted the vampiress in the face with it, smashing her backwards. She then followed up with a great thrust of the mighty Dawnbreaker, which pierced the fiend's heart and ignited her on fire.
Serana leapt behind the Canticle Tree to avoid the ensuing shockwave that caught the other vampires both in the air and on the ground. They all ignited by Meridia's blue flame and the aerial ones dropped like dying birds from the air as they smoldered under the cleansing light.
Inigo took the opportunity to blast four them from a safe distance with his Exploding Bolts of Fire this time, careful of his surroundings. He quickly loaded another and cranked it back on the projectile weapon, and loosed it, blowing them apart in fire, once and for all. "Take this, you fanged freaks! -No offense, Serana!"
"None taken." Serana stated as she defended the hindered Agmaer from an attacking vampire who snuck up behind him. She loosed a Fireball at the vampire and blasted her several feet away, only to follow up with a downwards thrust of her Ebony Dagger into the monster's heart, reducing her to ash.
The Gargoyle pried itself out of the cavern wall, to be attacked by the Spriggans, who were angered by the violent disturbance. They clawed at the beast and sent their deadly pestilence onto its flesh, which ate away at the no-longer-stone monstrosity as it attempted to bite and scratch the Earth Spirits.
Cura faced two more of the Vampires, who thankfully had moved towards the cavern wall and waterfalls, and away from the foliage once again. Cura smirked. "Thank you, you've made it a lot easier."
"Silence, cur!" One of the Vampires shouted as he began to dash towards the Dragonborn.
Cura inhaled, and released. "YOL TOOR!" A large burst of fire escaped her throat and engulfed the two vampires, causing them to scream and choke aflame until they were no more.
The last vampire was backed against the wall. "How... how did this happen?!" He cried out. "You were supposed to be weak! You were supposed to be ours!"
Inigo walked up to him and held his Ebony Sword to his throat. "No, the truth is you are supposed to lay down and die! Let us help you!" He quickly slashed the blade across the vampire's neck as Serana casted a Flame spell upon him, preventing regeneration.
The death snort of the Gargoyle some distance away was their last indicator that the battle had concluded.
Author's Note: For this next scene I recommend playing "Secunda' :) Also, Merry Christmas, to all my readers!
Cura observed the dead Vampire corpses reduced to ash in the beautiful stream, and their armour just littering the ground. She quickly began to retrieve the armour and weapons, and clean the ashes, and instructed the others to do the same.
This glade was too beautiful to be tarnished like this, and she was not going to leave it amess like so.
The Spriggans, at first angered, appeared to be calmer when they saw Cura and her allies cleaning the mess from the battle.
Agmaer's eyes felt exhausted and began to water naturally, obscuring his view more. He couldn't focus with his headache. He walked over to the platform and took a seat, and held his forehead in his right hand as the shooting pain came over him.
Cura slowly approached him and took a seat beside him. "Agmaer, are you all right? Honestly."
"I can't seem to stave off this migraine..." Agmaer worried. "I hope it doesn't lead to something later down the road..."
Cura reached into her satchel and took out an Ambrosia, given to her by Delphine some time ago when they were at Sky Haven Temple. "Here, Agmaer; I want you to eat this. Trust me, it will help."
"Wh-what is it?" Agmaer took the odd, globule green object into his hands and studied it with blurred sight.
"It's Ambrosia." Cura stated firmly. "It can help relieve pain - it helped me a lot during some training. I want you to have it."
"It sounds like something very rare." Agmaer seemed worried. "Are... are you sure I can have this?"
Cura nodded with a smile. "Go ahead, you've earned it." It was the least she could do, she felt; but the most effective at this current time.
Agmaer smiled as he turned to the rare Ingredient and sunk his teeth into it. Immediately, golden juice began to flow from it, and down his throat. It tasted something akin to a soft citrus fruit, much like Clementine as if it were mixed with a Kiwi. The sourness caused him to cringe lightly, but he could feel the pain from his migraine slowly beginning to subside until it was gone completely.
"Thanks, Cura." Agmaer expressed his gratitude.
"So, let's return to the Fort and report our findings to Isran." Cura slowly stood up. "Maybe one of the others could show us the exact location of Darkfall Cave - I think Brother Adalvald would know very well, being as studious as he is."
The group unanimously agreed and trekked through the beautiful cavern, and headed outside. With Cura's attentiveness, the four of them Fast Travelled back to Fort Dawnguard and landed directly at the entrance.
Agmaer nearly fell off the rocky cliffside, but was caught by Inigo. "Oooh... bad idea! Bad idea!" Agmaer exclaimed as his vertigo had only worsened due to the speed of travel. He fell to his knees and threw up on the stones.
Celann, who stood guard at the stairs under the moonlit sky, stared at the spectacle. "Er... you all right there, Agmaer?"
Agmaer raised a hand and gave him a falsely reassuring thumbs up. "Doing great."
Cura walked over to the Breton. "He read the Elder Scroll - and can still see - but his vision is blurred, and he's overcome with dizziness. I... suppose my Fast Travel only made it worse..." She looked a little nervous until Agmaer pulled himself back up.
Inigo tapped Agmaer on the back as he approached Cura and Celann. "I'm going to lie down... wake me up in three days." He stumbled on one of the steps and made it to the door, pushing it open.
"We're that much closer to stopping my father." Serana mused as the group headed inside. She sounded both relieved, and saddened by the fact.
Cura spoke gently. "You don't have to have a part of it if you're not ready."
"No... I have to see this through to the conclusion, no matter what." Serana objected. "If for nothing else than to remind myself what could become of me if I'm not careful."
"What do you mean?" Cura asked her as they pulled up a seat on the dado on the eastern wall of the main hall.
"I mean that once my father is gone, I'm sure the Dawnguard will come for me next." Serana fretted. "I won't live long with this guilt."
"No, no, no." Cura shook her head. "I will not allow that!"
"I'm sure you won't, but you're one person." Serana sighed sadly. "I can't tell how the others feel, but I've definitely seen some Vigilants sleeping with Garlic Wreaths around their necks."
Cura scoffed. "They're just doing what they've learned. They feel unsafe, and so..."
"Unsafe." Serana repeated the word, as if to prove her point. "They feel unsafe. Afraid."
"Well, it's.." Cura stammered trying to find words. "well... they've been taught... all Vampires we've encountered..." Then it settled in. "Well, they haven't done anything to you, have they?"
"No, not yet." Serana stated. "But as every day passes, I can feel the tensions growing. It's obscure, it's subtle, but it's there."
"You're unlike any vampire we've ever encountered." Cura reminded her. "It's entirely possible that they're only confused."
"Carcette." Serana said. "Have you seen the way some of the Vigilants look at her?"
"From what I could see, most of them still treat her like the Keeper." Cura said. "They still ask her for tasks or prayers, from what I've noticed."
"And others view her as illegitimate." Serana stated. "You clearly haven't been listening around."
"No, I haven't." Cura admitted. "I can't afford to listen to every bit of gossip in the Fort. All I know is that Isran permitted both of you to stay here, so that's what matters to the Organization."
"And if he changes his mind?" Serana asks. "Is that when the pitchforks come out?"
Cura fell silent. She understood what her friend was saying. After some careful thought, she spoke again. "I've been trying to show others a different perspective of the world. Whether they take it to heart or not, is up to them." She slowly stood up. "Let's find Isran."
"You go on ahead." Serana told her. "I'm just going to walk around for a while. See what other 'gossip' I can pick up."
On the top floor, Isran was writing tactical letters to have sent out to field agents, when Cura knocked on the door. "Come in. I hope you have some good news for me."
"I do." Cura informed him. "Agmaer successfully read the Elder Scroll. It told us the Bow is in Darkfall Cave."
"Then you know what you need to do. Good work." Isran continued to write, making no attempt at eye contact.
Cura nodded. She would have to ask Brother Adalvald, now. As soon as she turned around, Isran spoke again. "I've been thinking about what you were saying yesterday. About our... way of looking at the world. It's what's kept us alive this long, Ankle-biter."
Cura slowly took a chair and sat adjacent to Isran. "Yes, that may be so - but I still think that there are exceptions to the rule. You'll never convince me otherwise."
"We can't rethink our methods because there are two good Vampires on Nirn." Isran stated flatly.
Cura shook her head. "Absolutely. I was just thinking more towards extending some understanding to those two good Vampires."
Isran looked up from his paper and lowered his quill. "Am I not, by lettings them roam these halls? I'd say I've been more than tolerant. We still don't fully know what Serana's intentions are, and we know that Carcette is two feet from the deep end."
"Well, you know Carcette," Cura began. "she was your sister-in-arms before I was even born."
"She's not the same." Isran explained. "Vampirism changes people, or have you not figured that out yet?"
"It does, but not always. Not completely." Cura argued. "And aside from her bloodlust, she has all of her memories; all of her thoughts, her devotion. Is that not evidence enough for you?"
"Stop it." Isran grunted. "Don't pretend as though nothing has changed. That will get you killed."
He had a point, if the Soul Cairn was any indication. Cura paused and began to reevaluate, but ultimately circled back. "What if she were to drink some Human blood?"
"Then I would put a bolt between her eyes." Isran put it plainly as he raised his crossbow from his belt for effect. "I would end her miserable existence... the thing she was too cowardly to do herself."
Cura's jaw swung open in disgust. "That's awful! How could you say such a thing?!"
Isran put down the crossbow. "Even after the Hall was destroyed, you still don't understand it."
"No, I don't!" Cura snapped back. "I know that you and Keeper Carcette never saw eye-to-eye, but you still have History together! You would kill her? Just like that? No remorse, nothing?"
"Of course I would feel remorse!" Isran snapped angrily, putting down his quill again. "It would tear me apart to have to do it! I've never wished ill upon her, or upon the others."
"So you would do what the Vampires failed to do?" Cura asked him. "You'd finish off the Keeper of Skyrim's Vigil? I thought we were on the same side."
Isran snorted. "It would crush me to do so, but I would have no other option. She knew what she was signing up for the day she joined the Vigil of Stendarr. You know what the procedure is if we become a Vampire."
"I think it's ridiculous, and it goes against everything Stendarr stands for!" Cura protested. "Stendarr is the God of Mercy! What mercy is there in damning a Soul to Coldharbour?" She recalled the tormented spirits within the Soul Cairn, and imagined the plane of Molag Bal to be like that, but far worse. Emotion welled up from her heart like a fountain. "Isran, you know that it's wrong!"
"Right and wrong don't matter here." Isran stated. "We're either safe, or we're not. Stendarr's tenets are harsh towards Vampires because of how their corruption never tends to stay with just one of them. They infect others. Let them be, and soon the world will belong to Coldharbour."
Cura understood, but remained firm on her stance. "Okay, but if you kill Serana or Keeper Carcette, I will bring down Oblivion on you! Do you understand that? I will raze this Fort to the ground." She threatened angrily.
Isran was taken aback by this threat. Cura's normally gentle green eyes burned with a smoldering, angry flame; as if he were looking into the eyes of a Dragon itself. She was serious. Whether it be a bluff or not, it was certain that the Dragonborn held great power. He had never seen Cura this assertive before, and it came as a shock. Her appeal to kindness was over. This was her ultimatum.
"You don't know what you're asking." Isran could only say.
"All I ask is that you treat them like people; not like demons." Cura placed a hand on the desk. "And any other Vampire that wants to reform - or to be cured. Don't put them to the sword like you would a wicked one."
Isran looked around and at the door past Cura, and sighed. "Fine, but I want you to understand my stance on this. What I'm about to tell you, I've never told a soul before you."
Cura's stern expression softened once more, and she returned to a seated position. What was he about to say?
"I'm sure you could already guess that I'm not native to Skyrim." Isran began. "Like Carcette, Celann, and Moric, I'm an outsider to this land. I came from Helland, a small town in the middle of the great Alik'r - in Hammerfell."
Cura had encountered men from the Alik'r last year. She nodded along.
"I was much younger then, and had a wife and two children." Isran appeared to fall saddened as their memory came back to him. "They were slaughtered in front of my face, when Khulari Vampires attacked our town in the night."
Cura's eyes opened. She had figured that his hatred stemmed from something like this, but now it was confirmed. She could understand the prejudices he held, even if they weren't right towards Serana and Carcette.
"The Vampires wormed their way into our town with their guiles and deceptions - pretending to be traders." Isran snarled. "They turned the town Guards against us as well, with their charms. Don't think for a minute that your little friend isn't capable of that very thing. I'll allow them both to live, but watch your back. You're an asset to our cause; I don't want to lose you."
Cura was shocked. Was that open, unsalted praise? From Isran? Stunning. She cleared her head quickly. "Yes, well... I'm sorry about what happened to your family; that's... I can't even imagine... no. No, I can imagine. It's horrible..."
"All the more reason why we need to get that bow." Isran stated.
Cura agreed. "Yes; I will ask Brother Adalvald where the cave is located."
"Good. Get to it." Isran instructed.
Cura nodded. "All right." She stood up and headed to the door.
Isran watched Cura leave and returned to his paperwork. Finally standing up for herself. She really has grown a lot. Take care of yourself, Cura. He thought as he dipped his quill in the ink blot.
Brother Adalvald was in the library with Lucien, and the two seemed to be discussing the Arcane University.
"I've never been." Brother Adalvald admitted sorely. "Never thought about going through all the different Mage Guilds and getting recommendations just to get inside the institutions and read the books there."
"It's well worth it!" Lucien admitted. "There'a wealth of knowledge in there!"
Dexion Evicus, who sat on a chair nearby, added in. "It's all but required of a Moth Priest to study there for a year or so. They have a tremendous trove of knowledge in the Arcane University."
"Ah, but there is more to be learned outside!" Lucien exclaimed. "That's my goal in life; practical experience!"
"There is no greater teacher than experience." Brother Adalvald professed. "Have you profited at all since being here?"
"Well, I've gotten to see the inside of a Vampire Castle, and I've taken some fascinating notes!" Lucien admitted as he flashed his journal and opened it to the page where he had sketched the Moondial. "I've also learned quite a bit about myself - somehow, I survived a series of vampire attacks and a great plunge, and am still Human, to boot! These scars should tell my friends back in Cyrodiil everything!" He pointed to his chest, which was covered. "And, it just reinforced my respect for the Restoration school. Skyrim really could use more healers. I owe Carcette an Ale, I think."
Cura came walking in and headed around the bookshelves, overhearing some of their conversation.
"Haha, no, son." Brother Adalvald chuckled. "She deals out healing and justice, as needed. She wouldn't expect you to pay for it."
"I feel like I should, though." Lucien admitted. "You know, the Vigil is really underappreciated. Like the Order of the Virtuous Blood - people know they exist, but don't really give them due praise or acknowledgement."
Brother Adalvald shrugged. "Well, we don't do it for the praise; our glory awaits us upon death. We just do as we must here on Tamriel."
"And if one is unfortunate enough to be turned?" Cura asked sourly. "Will they see Coldharbour, or Stendarr?"
"Ah, Candle!" Lucien exclaimed joyfully.
Brother Adalvald went silent for a moment when Cura approached. "Ah, Cura! You've returned! I trust things went well?"
"Did you follow my instructions?" Dexion asked.
"We did, and Agmaer only has a migraine and lightly blurred vision." Cura stated. "I... hope he'll be okay."
"I hope so, as well." Dexion stated.
"We discovered the location of Auriel's Bow - it's in this place called 'Darkfall Cave'. Apparently it's North of Markarth, somewhere in the mountains, but its situation within isn't entirely clear, and Lucien can't jot it down due to his sight." Cura explained. "Do you know where it could be?"
"You're in luck." Brother Adalvald stated. "Hand me your map."
Cura took out her map and spread it out on the table before them, and Adalvald took out a quill and an ink blot. He dipped the quill in the ink and brought it to the map, circling somewhere within the mountain range. "I've seen it before, but I don't know what to expect within. I just know that it leads to an ancient Vale in High Rock."
Cura's eyes lit up. "High Rock?! Ooh!" She grew excited.
Brother Adalvald hated to break it to her. "Unfortunately, not what you're expecting. This isn't High Rock proper, but isolated borderlands within. Unless something shifted in the caverns, that's where they should lead. Don't expect to wind up in Evermore."
Cura's expression fell, but she quickly accepted it. "Oh, well. Some other day, then."
Lucien leaned forward and examined the map. "Candle, can I come along? I'm ready to head out and experience the world again!"
"Really? So soon?" Cura asked him, surprised.
"'Candle'?" Dexion chuckled. "Care to explain?"
"It's a nickname." Cura rolled her eyes.
"A very fitting one!" Lucien stated playfully. "She's a bright light in these dark times!"
Brother Adalvald seemed to agree. "It's a little bit silly, to be sure, but if Cura is all right with it, I won't discourage it."
"I'd rather if you didn't throw it around as much; especially not when I'm trying to make an impression or discussing important things." Cura finally spoke up.
"Oh." Lucien was taken by surprise. "Okay. I'll try to keep it more between us. What should I call you in front of others instead."
"Just Cura." Cura stated what she felt was obvious. "Call me Candle when it's just us, and our friend group, but in formal settings, I would really appreciate it if you just called me by name."
"No problem, Can-Cura! Cura!" Lucien stumbled over himself. "So, can I come along to the Darkfall Cave?"
"Sure thing, Lucien." Cura smiled. "Get your Journal ready. I'm sure we're bound to find some interesting things in there." She rolled up the map and waved to Brother Adalvald and to Dexion, who both waved back, oddly enough.
"I've got fifteen ink blots with me and six quills, just in case!" Lucien informed her on the way out. "This is going to be grand!"
Brother Adalvald was mildly amused by the pair, and walked to a shelf to withdraw a book. Cura, best of luck to you. You can do this. He thought to himself.