The original Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim was located in the city of Solitude, giving their Justiciars and ambassadors ease of access to the political heart of the province. This arrangement, however, was soon found to be inadequate. The bustling trade metropolis was too densely populated for the Thalmor to engage in their more discreet businesses. Talos worshippers, surviving Blades, agitators, inciters, the list of enemies of the Dominion that needed incarceration and interrogation was great. Far greater than could be secretly brought in through the city gates.
In other provinces the Thalmor would solve this problem by simply setting up a prison somewhere in the wilderness, like the infamous Blue River Prison in Cyrodiil. But the unique disposition of Skyrim's Nords gave even the Thalmor cause for concern. It was decided that conducting all their activities from a single well-defended hub would be the most efficient, and safe, course of action.
Therefore, the Embassy was relocated to the peak of Mount Kilkreath, in an old Imperial manor overlooking the Great Arch of Solitude that once served as a retreat for the Septim Emperors. Close enough to never be forgotten by the Nords, far enough to keep Thalmor activities hidden from them. And, deservedly, elevated above them and their capital. The fact that anyone who needed to meet with the Thalmor had to ascend up the treacherous path to the summit was just an added bonus.
As a consequence, however, the Embassy grounds were frigidly cold. The naturally freezing mountain peak was constantly battered by northern winds blowing in from the Sea of Ghosts. A combination that chilled men and mer alike to the bone. Not a problem for the high ranking officials and battlemages that stayed exclusively indoors, but for the lowly sentries charged with standing watch over the gates and doors, it was like guarding a Plane of Oblivion.
"By Auri-El it's cold," a young Thalmor guard said as he and his partner patrolled the outermost courtyard, the light from the magelight spell he was casting dimly lighting up the area and melting any snow that fell into its magical flame. "How I miss the soft sunlight of Alinor."
Young was a very relative term to the long lived Altmer, for the High Elf was 53 years old. He was a levy from one of the Altmer Colonies, the name for the many small fishing villages that dotted the outlying islands of the Summerset Isles. The colonies were far from the grand palaces and cities of the main island of Summerset, and therefore far from the concerns of the Thalmor. This saved the elf from the indoctrination and radicalization that was so prevalent in the mainland Altmer youth.
"What would we even do with a horrific landscape like this if we were to take it over?" He asked, trying to make conversation with his superior. The air was so cold that it drew vapour out of his mouth with every word he spoke.
"When we take it over you mean," the senior guard corrected. He was older, a veteran of the First Great War from the city of Alinor. This made him a true believer, through and through. "And we will do with it what we please, as is our right as the divinely ordained masters of Dawn's Beauty."
"Of course, sir," the young elf hastily replied. "But a land that's this harsh and desolate. Perhaps we should just allow the humans to keep it," he joked.
In a flurry of motion, the senior elf grabbed the young elf by a piece of his armour and pushed him up against the stone wall of the courtyard. The sudden force of the push caused the young elf to drop his concentration, and the magelight spell he was casting dissipated with a soft hiss. He had barely enough time to let out a whimper before the senior elf was in his face, staring him right in the eyes.
"You would do well to cease this seditious talk immediately," he yelled, pushing his armoured gauntlet hard into the young elf's breastplate, "lest I inform Her Eminence and you are sent back to Alinor for re-education."
"I'm sorry, sir," the young elf cried through gritted teeth, trying and failing to ignore the pressure of the senior elf's hand on his chest.
"It does not matter if it's the verdant hills of Alinor, the valleys of the Nibenay, the infernal deserts of Hammerfell, or the windswept peaks of Skyrim. It is all ours," the senior elf said, not releasing any of the pressure on the younger elf.
The young elf nodded, unable to speak due to the pain. When he nodded, the senior elf noticed a leather necklace around his neck.
"What is this?" The senior elf asked as he used his free hand to grab the necklace tucked into the young elf's breastplate. He took it out of the young elf's armour, revealing a small, bone-white pendant of a fish. The young elf took a deep, relieved breath as the senior elf released him from the wall.
"It's a fish-bone pendant, sir," he answered, hunching over and catching his breath, "my mother made it for me before I left. It's for protection and luck."
The senior elf looked at the pendant with contempt, then brought his gaze up to meet the young elf's eyes once again.
"It is not part of your uniform," the senior elf said, "you will remove it as soon as we return to the barracks."
"Yes sir," the young elf said under his breath.
"You colonials are all the same, undisciplined and backwards," the senior admonished, holding his head high.
The door to the embassy flung open, and a Thalmor Justiciar came running out. He scanned the courtyard, then locked eyes with the two elves on patrol.
"You two, swiftly, " he yelled, "Blades agents have infiltrated the Embassy! Her Eminence had ordered all soldiers to the holding cells immediately!"
"Yes sir," the elves yelled in unison.
The young elf looked at the Justiciar as they ran towards the door. "How did they get passed—"
A thunderous roar echoed across the peaks, shaking the mountain tops and filling the elves in the courtyard with a primal sense of dread. After the roar came the sound of great, heavy wings, followed by another roar.
The young elf fearfully pointed at something in the distance.
"D-d-d-dragon!"
In the distance, obscured by the snow and barely illuminated by the moon and stars, was the silhouette of a great winged beast. It approached from the north, the ocean wind on its tail. It flew once over the embassy, kicking up a flurry of snow and knocking over any elves caught in the gale, before turning around and coming to a stop over the courtyard.
It let out one final roar as it flapped its wings hard to hover in place. In the courtyard below, the elves frantically called for archers and battlemages, but a booming voice from above drowned out their shouts. The sheer power of the voice was felt in the bones of any who heard it.
ODAHVIING
YOL TOOR SHUL
The dragon opened its maw, and dragonfire spewed forth. The flames engulfed anything and everything they touched in a burning firestorm. Nothing could withstand it, not stone nor steel, not flesh nor bone.
"Too the exit everyone!" Inigo shouted, his left hand holding his bow and his right hand pushing people towards the exit of the cave as they passed him.
The roof of the cave groaned under the strain of the attack taking place on the surface above. Small sections of the roof crumbled and fell in certain parts, nearly crushing the shinobi and the prisoners they'd rescued. From above, muffled but still terrifying, they heard the roars and high-pitched whines of Odahviing and his fire breath as he burnt the embassy to the ground. The raiding party was moving fast, but not fast enough. The last shinobi passed Inigo, and without a moment's hesitation he started for the exit.
"Do you want to be buried here? Move it" He yelled. Much larger boulders were starting to fall now, slowly choking off the route to the exit. Behind him, where the trapdoor they used to infiltrate the interrogation room was, Inigo heard the cave collapse. This started a chain reaction that he dared not look back at, devoting all his focus to dodging the rubble falling down in front of him.
The party rounded the last bend, but the cave-in caught up with them.
"We're not going to make it!" One of the prisoners yelled.
Inigo was inclined to agree, the situation looked hopeless. Already rocks were piled knee high at the exit, and even more were still falling. But he kept running.
The first two shinobi leading the party made it out of the cave, followed by four of the six prisoners.
We're going to make it, Inigo thought. Then, as if the cave heard Inigo's thoughts, the roof collapsed.
No we won't.
A fluttering mass of bats flew into the ground at the mouth of the cave, and out of the mass came Serana. She threw her hands into the air, and the rocks that had been falling froze in place.
"Hurry!" She yelled, her voice strained from the effort of keeping the rocks in place, "I can't hold it for long!"
The last two prisoners hurriedly climbed their way out, followed by the last two shinobi, leaving only Inigo left. Serana screamed, sweat dripping down her forehead. With an exhausted sigh she collapsed, and the magical barrier holding up the cave-in dissipated into nothing.
Inigo dived forwards, rolling as he hit the ground. The snow cushioned his impact, but covered his exposed bits of fur in a layer of moisture as his elevated body heat quickly melted any flakes that made contact with him. Within an instant of his tail exiting the cave the rocks crashed down into the ground, sealing the cave shut.
Inigo stood up, breathing heavily trying to catch his breath. One of the shinobi ran over to check on him. His black leather armour and cloak was covered in dirt, dust, and falling snow. From a satchel around his waist he produced a stamina potion that Inigo quickly grabbed and gulped down.
Another shinobi checked on Serana, giving her a magicka potion to help her recover. The other two shinobi handed potions out to the prisoners, stamina potions to help them catch their breath and frost-resistance potions to keep them warm despite wearing nothing but prison rags. The prisoners gratefully accepted them, and after they finished they showered their saviours in thanks. Several of them praised Talos for their salvation.
"As far as escapes go," Inigo said as he finished his stamina potion, "I'd give that one a five out of ten. As for dramatic timing, ten out of ten. Thank you Serana."
A crescendo of thank yous erupted from all those present.
"My pleasure everyone," Serana replied.
"Did you succeed in your mission?" Inigo asked.
Serana nodded, "Elenwen is dead." As the most powerful of the Thalmor stationed in Skyrim, there was always a risk that Elenwen would find a way to survive the attack. Serana had ensured that wouldn't be an issue.
"Ok," Inigo said, "mission complete. Well done everyone."
Odahviing flew by overhead, then circled back to the embassy. The prisoners with the grouped ducked and covered their heads, but they didn't scream or flee. Inigo had already informed them, to their slight disbelief, that the dragon would not attack them. On the peak above them the group could see the faint orange glow of the flames that had engulfed the compound.
"I won't be sad to see that place go," Malborn, the leader of the shinobi, said.
"Agreed," Inigo said. He turned and addressed the prisoners, "ok, these kind people will bring you to a camp a little ways down the mountain. There you will receive a change of clothes, and then you will be escorted to Dragon Bridge. From there, arrangements will be made to take you wherever you would like to go. Oh, and I suggest you lay low, and speak very little of what happened here today."
The prisoners nodded their heads, then began following two shinobi down the mountain. Before they left, several of them came up to Inigo and Serana to bow and shake their hands.
"Well," Malborn said watching the prisoners leave, "I guess this is where we part ways. May you walk bountiful trails, and I'll see you again soon."
"You too, Malborn," Serana replied.
Malborn nodded to the last remaining shinobi, and they both left to catch up with the rest of the group.
Once the group was out of sight, Inigo spoke up. "I believe the attack above has ended," he said to Serana, "shall we go meet Ysmir?"
Serana nodded, but didn't say a word.
From the back of Odahviing, Ysmir scanned the mountain side for fleeing Thalmor. It was hopeless, in the dark he could barely see the trees, let alone any elves. Odahviing couldn't see anything, and Ysmir trusted his senses, so he commanded Odahviing to land in the still flaming remains of the courtyard where he, Serana, and Inigo had agreed to rendezvous.
With a heavy thud Odahviing landed on the ground. He lowered his neck to allow Ysmir to easily dismount. After Ysmir dismounted, Odahviing adjusted his body to look at him.
"Hail, Thuri," he said in his booming draconic voice, "it was a pleasure to fight at your command."
Ysmir bowed, "the pleasure was mine, Odahviing."
Odahviing bowed his head in return, "I am at your service, Thuri, call on me and I shall answer."
Ysmir backed up a few steps, and Odahviing unfurled his dark-crimson wings. With one great effort he took off into the sky.
Ysmir watched as he flew southwards towards his mountain home, his eyes following him until he crested a distant peak and disappeared from view. After he lost sight of Odahviing, Ysmir turned to look at the remains of the embassy.
A terrible stench of charred flesh, burnt hair, and charcoal lingered in the air. The stench was so bad Ysmir had to stop himself from gagging. Large fires were still burning in several areas, their heat a sharp contrast to the cold wind blowing through the trees across the mountain peak.
Nearly nothing remained of the Imperial-style compound. The low stone wall that surrounded the embassy was destroyed in multiple locations, leaving it full of holes and gaps. The metal fence that lay on top of the wall warped under the heat of dragonfire, and the uniform metalwork was twisted into wicked, jagged shapes. The buildings themselves fared little better. The wooden barracks was reduced to a black, burnt down ruin, any occupants that might have been inside were crushed under the rubble when the foundation collapsed. The main embassy building was similarly devastated. Although the thick stone walls resisted the attack better, they were scorched and slowly crumbling. A large section of the roof collapsed during the attack, and even still brick tiles were falling and shattering as they hit the ground.
The Solar at the far end of the compound was the least destroyed building. It remained mostly intact, but fires raged across its roof and flames flickered out of the shattered windows, threatening to bring down the whole structure.
When the attack started any elves unlucky enough to be outside were quickly killed. Several corpses were scattered around the courtyard. Ysmir walked around and forced himself to look at each one in turn. He was no stranger to dead bodies, but even to this day the horrific sight of those who perished in the intense heat of dragonfire shook him to his core.
Each corpse was burned beyond all recognition. On some corpses bones stuck out where flesh had melted away. The moonstone armour that the elven guards wore, while light and durable, could not hope to stand up to dragonfire. It melted and dripped like candle wax onto the ground when exposed to Odahviing's flames. The robes worn by Justiciars were turned to ash, leaving nothing but small bits of leather and cloth burned into its wearer's skin.
Each victim reacted differently to being engulfed in dragonfire. One corpse lay out in the open, it seemed that elf had collapsed where he stood from the shock of the searing hot pain. One elf tried to jump into a snowbank to snuff out the flames, but they burned so hot that the snow melted, and his corpse lay in a puddle of murky water. Another elf seemed relatively unburned compared to the others, in fact his body was covered in frost. He had tried to protect himself by casting Frostbite on his own body, killing himself in the process.
Ysmir's eyes lingered for a while on a corpse near the wall curled up in the fetal position, clutching something near its face. He felt a pang of guilt as he stared. Behind him, he heard footsteps in the snow emerge from the forest. The footsteps travelled through a hole in the wall and across the courtyard, slowing down several times.
Serana came up beside him, "what are you doing?"
Ysmir looked closer at the corpse, it was holding a small necklace with a pendant of a fish on it.
"Just reminding myself of the cost," Ysmir quietly replied, so quietly that Serana couldn't really make out what he said.
"So," Serana asked, "you have a pet dragon now? How often are you going to use it to burn away your problems?"
Before Ysmir could answer, the tower of the Solar crumbled to the ground with a great and loud crash. Its fall shook the ground, and Ysmir and Serana had to steady themselves to not fall over.
"We needed to do this," Ysmir said, "this was the safest way to secretly take the Thalmor off the board here in Skyrim. Everyone will assume this was a random dragon attack."
Serana gestured to the corpse Ysmir was staring at, "it wasn't safe for him."
Ysmir sighed, "no, it wasn't."
Serana stared at Ysmir for a while, trying to read his face. But as always it remained flat and emotionless, unreadable.
"Is something on your mind, Serana?" Ysmir suddenly asked.
Now it was Serana's turn to sigh. She stood silently for a second, then spoke up.
"You know you're my best friend Ysmir," she said, "and we've been through a lot together. I've always had you back because no matter what you've always done what's right. But this," she looked around her, "feels different."
Ysmir was shocked by the sudden seriousness of the conversation. He turned and looked her into her eyes, her face and body were tense with built up stress.
"This attack?" Ysmir asked.
"This attack," Serana said, "taking over the Blades, your plan to become Emperor, the spies and secrets and propaganda. It's overwhelming."
"I'm not trying to become Emperor because I want to," Ysmir said, trying to reassure her, "I'm on that path because I have to be."
"I know," Serana said, "I know. But I've seen first hand how a quest for power can change someone. How a seemingly good person can be corrupted by it."
She looked away from Ysmir. A single tear came out her eye and down her cheek, "I don't want to lose another family to prophecy."
Ysmir approached Serana and put his hand on her shoulder. Their eyes locked once again.
"I'm not Harkon," he said, "I've been offered power before. By your father, other Dragonborn, cultists, even Daedric Princes. I've never fallen to temptation. And the power I do have, I only ever use it when I need to."
Serana nodded, "but the power of the Ruby Throne is something else entirely. You think you'll still be you when you have it?"
"In the end all power is the same," Ysmir said, "it isn't inherently good nor evil, it's corruptive when you use it irresponsibly."
"How can you be sure you won't use it irresponsibly?"
"You know me, Serana," Ysmir reassured, "I have a strong code of honour. And I learned from Paarthurnax the philosophy of power and tempering urges. He is an expert on the subject."
Ysmir looked, and he could see that she was beginning to relax. Her doubts and worries were slowly being soothed.
"I don't want to do this, I don't want the burden or the responsibility. But if not me, then who? I'm still motivated by my desire to do what's right, nothing else."
"Plus," Ysmir added, "you and Inigo will be at my side. I vow to do my best to stay true to who I am, and you must promise to keep me honest and speak up if I stray from doing what's right."
Serana took a deep breath. She lunged forward and tightly embraced Ysmir, the frozen touch of his armour no bother to her cold vampiric skin.
"I promise," she solemnly said.
Ysmir embraced her back, "thank you, Serana."
"No, thank you," she said as the two pulled apart from each other, "I needed to hear that."
As they pulled apart Ysmir looked over Serana's shoulder. Inigo stood by himself near the remains of the main gate, patiently waiting respectfully out of earshot. Clearly Serana had asked Inigo to let her speak to Ysmir privately.
Ysmir looked around one final time. "We should leave," he said, "we've lingered here long enough. And it's a long road down the mountain to our horses, even longer to Windhelm."
He started walking towards Inigo, but stopped when he noticed Serana was not following him. Instead she was looking northwards, at the horizon above the Sea of Ghosts.
"There might be something at Castle Volkihar," she said without averting her gaze, "something that could be of great help to you."
"Do you want us to go there first?" Ysmir asked.
"No," Serana said, "you need to be elsewhere. I can do this alone. I'll find you and Inigo when I'm done."
In a puff of dark mist, a mass of bats appeared where Serana had been standing, and they flew off together towards the north. Ysmir quickly lost sight of them in the dark. He turned and joined Inigo at the gate. The fires around the embassy were finally beginning to die down as the falling snow snuffed them out. Together, Ysmir and Inigo walked away, leaving the smouldering ruins behind them.