"The Heart of Love

A short text on the god Mara

Know, penitent, that Mara is always with you. Within your breast beats her love and affection. The symbol of her floral star adorns the walls at the wedding chapel. Her priests tend to the needs of husband and wife. And always is her gaze upon the young.

To complete your venerations here, intone: "Fivefold blessings upon the lost and lovelorn. The Heart pumps the blood that connects us across the aurbis. May her grace always be upon me.""

The wind howled across the barren wasteland, carrying with it a fine layer of dust that clung to Cura's armor. She squinted against the gritty onslaught, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of life. But there was none - only twisted, gnarled trees that seemed to claw at the sky and jagged rocks that jutted from the ground like broken teeth. Adjacent was the way they needed to tread.

After some meandering, Cura stood before a wide black lake with bloodlike constituency which stretched from the mainland of Coldharbour out to the far east, where she saw not just Castle Volkihar, but the island it rested upon. It appeared larger than she'd initially thought.

Mirabelle and Carcette stood at either side of her, looking towards it, and Savos stood beside Mirabelle. Sabrina stood beside Carcette. They gazed at the impossible landscape before them, and the daunting fog which covered the island off in the distance. They knew getting there was not going to be easy.

"So, vampires. You've dealt with those creeps before, Carcette?" Sabrina had to ask.

What a question. Where could Carcette even begin to answer it?

"Well... they destroyed our Hall, turned me, and tried to murder Cura... they tried to blot out the Sun with Auriel's Bow, and I helped foil their court from within." Carcette tried to summarize the scenario to the best of her ability. "It... wasn't exactly the greatest time in our lives."

Sabrina's eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh... I would definitely agree. That sounds utterly mental."

Sir Amiel clenched the hilt of his claymore, and looked upon the island ahead. "But if you have dealt with them harshly before, then we've nothing to fear. They can be defeated again."

Cura nodded fervently. "For sure. I have no fear of them. But... I would approach them differently this time around." She scratched her chin as she observed the castle. "I will offer them Stendarr's Mercy. Not... mercy in the sense of killing them, but mercy in the sense of not immediately killing them."

"What?" Savos asked, dumbstruck by her decision. "Have you lost your senses?"

Mary was confused, herself. "You would extend an Olive Branch to those monsters?"

Cura nodded. "They can be redeemed." She looked over to Carcette when she said this, remembering the former Keeper's days as a vampire. "I didn't give up on you; you held firm to your humanity. You had awareness of who you were. I will give them a chance. Perhaps, after being in Coldharbour, some of them would have gained a change of heart."

Varla crossed his arms and scoffed. "I really hope you know what you're doing. Vampires aren't something to take lightly. I don't care if you beat them before in the past; that only gave them more incentive to hate you."

Bourlor stood beside Cura. "I think I agree with the Dragonborn. Coldharbour has a way of changing people, especially under the thumb of oppression. Molag Bal knows nothing of mercy; even lesser vampires will have discovered this by now. Any chance at freedom, they will accept it."

Gloriel had objections, as well. "Would Lady Meridia allow this? Extending charity to the undead?"

Cura answered the question drawing from her personal encounters. "Based on my observations, it appears she does have a disdain for the Undead. However, there are certain situations where she allows them around her," she reflected on her own journey as the Champion of Meridia and a Vigilant of Stendarr, recalling the times she traveled alongside Serana for several months, and with Carcette during her affliction. Remarkably, neither deity admonished her for these associations.

Gloriel grew silent. The idea of Meridia tolerating the children of Molag Bal was asinine. And yet, her Champion claims it to be so. She was uncertain of how to take the news, but she knew that she was to follow Cura, wherever she went. "Very well, great, lustrous Champion. I accept your judgment, and I will follow your steps. I am sure there is a reason for this. Meridia would never place such great trust in someone were it in vain."

Mirabelle looked into the pitch dark water below them, which casted the divide between the Castle's island and the mainland. "I see no boat around here - how do you intend to reach the island to begin with? I wouldn't suggest we swim the way."

"Not only would we be attacked by whatever dwells underneath, but we would also be vulnerable to the vampires if they see us." Varla explained with a scornful tone.

Sir Ralvas spoke up again. "Well - there is a bridge that can be summoned by the Black Hand. It will connect the mainland to the Volkihar Island, as well as the Black Worm's Prison Island."

The Black Worm; like Mannimarco? Cura thought to herself upon hearing this. She'd heard about him from Brother Adalvald a long time ago; and from Lucien, who knew of him. He was once a Psijic who found himself in the ill graces of Molag Bal when he dabbled in necromancies. He tried to do something to the Amulet of kings in the Second Era, but she could not recall what, exactly. A hero known as the Vestige saw him bound and trapped in Coldharbour, but he returned as a Shade, or Wraith, or Lich, in the Third Era. If only she could simply contact Brother Adalvald once more.

"The Black Hand?" Sabrina had to ask. "You mean like the Dark Brotherhood? Their symbol is a..." As she said this, Cura turned to look at her with a surprised expression, but the Redguard stiffened up.

Sir Ralvas shook his upper torso rather than his absent head. "No - the Black Hand. The five children of Sithis, sacrificed by their mother."

"How dreadful!" Mary shrank back in revulsion upon hearing the news. "How could someone commit such an act?" Korn barked beside her, her bark mirroring her horrified sentiment almost exactly.

Varla crossed his arms and looked off into the distance. "You would be surprised what evil people are capable of."

Sir Amiel agreed with her, but he was unsurprised; after all, this was Tamriel they were talking about. "People are capable of both the greatest and the most horrific actions, my lady."

"The worst part is that they're doomed to wander Oblivion... What will they look like when we encounter the poor things?" Carcette was disgusted by the idea herself. She always knew the Dark Brotherhood was twisted, but knowing that they were here in Coldharbour was gut-wrenching. Children were to be cared for and protected, not sacrificed to dark gods. Though, the idea that Sithis was capable of having offspring was fascinating in and of itself; could other Aedra and Daedra do so as well?

"A black cloud surrounding an amalgamation of skeletons, if my memory serves right." Sir Ralvas tried to conjure up the image.

"Father Sithis Bless you... curse you..."

The words resonated through Cura, stabbing at her chest. She clutched her heart. The vision unfolded again in her mind, a memory from when she traversed the planes of Oblivion after slaying the Anatomancer. The void was pitch-black, the sludge dense and oppressive in the endless dark corridor. Dark spirits whispered in riddles, and a terrifying entity - a creature with five skulls - towered above her, enshrouded in shadow, made wholly of bones.

"Of course, you will need to get the Eye of Sithis if you want to speak to them. I believe that Manthar the Sorcerer took it to Nenyond's Priory with him..." Sir Ralvas tried to recount the happenings in the realm. "Mercifully, it should not be too far from here, in the cliffs around the corner there, if we stand near the east river bank."

Sabrina turned him to face North. "You're facing North, just point based on memory."

Sir Ralvas motioned his right index finger a little over to the left, pointed straight at a cliff with a fence below it on the dirt path. "That way, somewhere. It should be above a flight of stairs leading into the rock. The entrance looks a bit like the entrance on the other side of the city where Mara's Followers hide out. Both places are underground."

As soon as she heard that, Mary perked up. "Wait! A cave of Mara's Followers? Where? Is Maram there? Aria?" Korn yipped happily in response and began to whip her tail back and forth with great enthusiasm.

Sabrina decided to bite. "Friends of yours, I guess?"

Mary nodded enthusiastically, "They were, indeed! Do you recall my mentioning the Building of the Tower of Fate? They were assistants of mine in those days. We were of the same circle. We followed the Eight and One. Maram and Aria were followers of Mara - very devoted in their ways." She turned to Cura and pleaded with enthusiasm to the Vigilant of Stendarr. "Oh, if we could gain their allegiance, it would make life far easier in this insipid wasteland! Cura, please; if our hideout was brought into Coldharbour as well, I would love to see them again!"

Varla listened as his mother spoke intently. In life, he'd slain a few followers of the Eight as well - it would certainly be strange to find himself suddenly working alongside them. Though, Gloriel was willing to let bygones be bygones and ally with him, so anything was possible. Perhaps Mary could even act a bridge between them.

Cura considered her case. She was powerful enough against vampires already, but she had determined to aid anyone who would want it here in Coldharbour as well. She thought upon it silently for a minute before calling a vote. "Okay, everyone - I will let the votes decide where we go next. All in favour of us heading to Nenyond's Priory, raise your hand."

Mirabelle raised her hand. "It would be wise to keep moving forward. The vampires are aware of your war declaration, and will not take it lightly."

Savos raised his hand. "We can destroy them, and we should. Let's get that Ring so you could speak to the Black Hand and have the bridge made."

Gloriel raised her hand. "I too wish to see the vampires burn."

Sir Ralvas raised his hand. "I wish to see."

Sabrina raised her hand. "The sooner we beat them into a pulp, the sooner we can get Ralvas' head back, and the sooner we can get to Jhunal's Library, and the sooner we can get out of this disgusting place!"

Bourlor raised his hand. "I lean towards what will progress your mission, but if it's something truly important to you, I can adapt."

Cura counted the group. "Six. Now, those in favour of going to the Secret Cave of Mara's Followers?"

Mary raised her hand quickly, and with conviction. "They've suffered enough if they're in this realm. We must help them, like you helped me!"

Varla slowly lifted his hand, signaling agreement with his mother. A soft grunt escaped his throat, yet he held back any argument. If they were indeed her friends, then assistance would be forthcoming.

Korn let out a loud bark and started panting, bouncing lightly in an excited flurry.

Carcette raised her hand, nodding solemnly in agreement with the Priestess. "It's only just, Cura; remember, the Gods view mercy favourably. Stendarr says to be kind and generous to the people of Tamriel. Protect the weak, heal the sick, and give to the needy" She was confident that Cura would concur with Mary's suggestion, for she had instilled these virtues in her from a young age.

"Those who don't believe in mercy must believe in fear." Cura recounted the words of the Priest of Stendarr, Corbyn Rangouze. It was a saying she had heard growing up. When she said it, Carcette nodded in agreement.

It was reassuring to Cura to hear Carcette speaking of Stendarr again. She feared that she had abandoned him entirely. Though, perhaps it could be a similar case to her own interloping with Meridia; Stendarr is tolerant as long as the other's motives align with his own. Heck, here she was, wearing Meridia's armour and Stendarr's Amulet. Who was she to judge Carcette, come to think of it?

Sir Amiel raised his hand. "I agree with Carcette and Mary. It is a Knightly virtue to help those when we can. It is how the Knights of the Nine gained their glory."

Cura raised her hand. "I... admit that I must agree. But now we've reached an impasse. The votes are split down the center."

"What? Who was the sixth person in favour of the cave? Is there an invisible person I don't see among us?" Sabrina asked, bewildered before seeing Cura's finger drift towards Korn, who barked at her with admonition. When it clicked, she scoffed with amusement. "The mutt? Are you kidding me?"

Mary took offense to her words and gently caressed the white wolf. "Korn is no mere 'mutt' - she is Mara's wolf. You've seen what she can do - what intellect she possesses!"

Carcette stood beside Cura and whispered aside to her. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

"What now, Cura? I suppose the decision is ultimately up to you." Savos asked.

"I suppose Sai will take over now," Cura said, extracting a Septim and lifting it towards the sun. It shimmered with a golden hue, a stark contrast to the somber dimension around them. "Heads for Mara's Cave, tails for Nenyond Priory," she declared, gazing at the ancient Emperor's visage. "Alright, Tiber, let's make this count." With a practiced motion, she balanced the coin on her thumb, steadied by her index finger.

With a quick flick of her thumb, she sent the coin soaring into the air. It gleamed briefly in the sunlight before spinning back down, embedding itself in the sand. Sir Amiel and Sabrina approached the spot where the coin had fallen, sharing a knowing look.

"Heads!" Sabrina proclaimed, her voice certain and yet irritated.

Mary's hands came together in a joyful clap accompanied by a sprightly hop, while Varla turned to her, his face alight with joy for his mother's triumph.

Mirabelle sighed, and Savos crossed his arms beside her. "More delays. Was this what your journey was like towards Alduin?" the former Master Wizard asked, her tone plagued with annoyance.

"Well, it could be interesting, Mirabelle. We've never seen the days when people had to flee persecution for their faith in the Divines." Savos tried to lighten the mood.

"Not unless you count those who worship Talos." Mirabelle reminded him of the turmoil in the Fourth Era.

"For people who hate Talos, the modern Empire surely doesn't mind having coins with his face emblazoned upon them." Sir Amiel ogled the Septim in his hand, recognizing the Emperor's face on it.

"They merely divorce Tiber Septim from Talos," Carcette explained. "they acknowledge Tiber Septim, but they do not believe him to be a Divine. They believe it is impossible for a man to become a god."

"And Arkay sees to the contrary." Sir Ralvas scoffed. "I wonder if Sir Torolf is in his cemetery in the North. That is also where the Black Hand went, I believe."

"There's a cemetery in the realm of Coldharbour?" Cura asked. "Isn't that a tad redundant?"

Sabrina laughed. "Why was there a void in the sky, and a black sun? Because Molag Bal can't come up with anything original: he just steals and corrupts whatever he sees. His entire Imperial City is a testament to his 'originality.' There, I said it."

Mirabelle agreed. "I'm just relieved that he hasn't recreated the College of Winterhold. I'd hate to see it in this state." she gestured to the City Door in front of them, rusted and withering as they spoke. "If he would go to such lengths to recreate historical things, he could at least be bothered to perform maintenance once in a while."

"That would make it far too pleasant, I fear." Savos muttered to her aside as they passed through the door.

They decided that it would be quicker to walk through the city to pass through to the secret cave. It was on the westernmost side of the outer walls of the city, buried in the stones, according to Sir Ralvas, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find, especially since most of the threats which roamed the southwestern quadrant of the city have been slain, to their knowledge.

As the group continued their travel through the desolate streets, Cura struck up a conversation with Mary. "Mara's followers - what were they like? In my era, they often provide healing to the sick and injured, treat illnesses, and even initiate wedding ceremonies in their humble little temple in Riften. Was it the same in your time?"

Thinking of home brought back memories. Cura hoped her friends would try and contact her again. She wanted to tell them all about what's been going on; how she defeated Pelinal Whitestrake and Umaril the Unfeathered; how she was building a small army. Everything.

Mary nodded. "Yes - our temple was of humble brick and mortar. Humanity was under the Ayleids' oppression at that time, but certain areas were kinder than others. Some Ayleid cities allowed Humans to become Priests under certain Gods. We were Maran Priests. Unfortunately, Umaril destroyed our Temple in his warpath and took concubines of some of us. The others scattered. When we rejoined years later, the Alessians had begun their condemnation of the Elves and their 'false gods.'"

"What can you tell us about your allies? What use do they have to offer us, really?" Mirabelle asked, her exasperation plain to see.

Cura interjected. "Whoever they are, they deserve the opportunity to leave this wasteland, as well. I will not object to helping them. Especially not where Lady Mara is concerned."

"Thank you, Cura; you are very kind." Mary expressed her gratitude, and Korn yipped happily alongside her as she guided Sir Ralvas around the streets. Carcette looked at Cura proudly; she had raised her well. She only hoped to keep Cura on the path of mercy.

As they approached the western wall, they took in the remainders of the Ogrims and Daedra they'd slaughtered a while back, as well as the Dragonblood Knights. Cura knew that at some point she was going to have to answer to Emperor Gorieus for her slaying of his soldiers in the east, but she was not worried for slaying Belharza's knights; after all, Varla sanctioned it.

"What were your allies like, my lady?" Sir Amiel asked softly as he opened the door, leading the others outside of the city.

Mary thought upon it, but began to explain. "Maram was a devout follower of Mara - his faith was great, and he was a strong warrior. He would protect us in our travels, much like what you do, Sir Knight." She smiled as she remembered old faces. "Aria the Whisperer, as we called her, always spoke with a gentle disposition. She was always faithful and kind, but stubborn in her ways. I believe she would make a good ally as well; she was good at knowing when trouble was about to arise, before the rest of us."

Cura nodded, hearing this behind her. "I look forward to meeting them, then!"

"If they're here, which I hope not, truly." Mary admitted. "Though, if the Alessians have gotten them, which I assume they did after they condemned me, there is a strong possibility that they could have found their way underground here. Cura, I really do believe in you; in what you stand for. I believe the Gods placed you on this path for a reason; to right the wrongs of the past."

Carcette agreed. "Indeed; and the wrongs of the present, as well. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that Cura has had a profound impact on so many of our lives."

Mirabelle nodded, as well. "You'll get no argument from me. It was my folly which kept her hands tied. Perhaps if I would have kept less of a watch on her than Ancano, he would never have progressed to where he was."

Savos interjected. "Ah, but you see, that was fated to happen, Mirabelle. I trust the Divines know what they're doing."

Bourlor agreed, as well. "I have a purpose again, thanks to her. I will never forget that."

Sir Amiel seconded the notion, as did Varla, who walked with Mary and Korn in the back. He had a bad feeling about the cave, but whatever would arise, he would protect her.

Cura continued to walk the stone road, and observed a cavernous entrance with a couple of columns and a set of stairs leading downwards, visible, but obscured by the larger stones which arced along the side of the road. "I think this is it. I know you can't really see, Sir Ralvas, but I'll describe what's in front of me right now: a cave with two stone pillars, and a flight of stairs that head into the earth."

"Sounds like it to me." Sir Ralvas responded flatly. He sounded unsure, himself. "Now, what you must know: there should be a palisade below the earth with banners representing Mara's floral star. Er, her Amulet symbol. You know it, I am sure. It originated in Skyrim, and that is where you are from, correct?"

"Correct." Cura said, beaming with pride. She loved that white wonderland. How she missed the beautiful fields and cool air, and gentle snowfall!

"Then let me know if you see that down there." Sir Ralvas requested as he followed the group into the caverns.

Bourlor commented, "I do not know much about Mara, to tell you the truth. I've never had a wedding, nor have I needed a healer until my deathbed. I'd followed Kynareth in my youth, and even now."

Cura spoke on Mara's behalf. "She is beautiful. Being in her presence is the most soothing thing in the world. She blessed my Restoration Skills - so when I offer healing to another, her power rests within it as well. Perhaps I'll tell you the story about the defiled Shrine in Castle Volkihar another time."

The air in the hidden cave of Mara's worshippers hung heavy with anticipation. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the damp stone walls. Vigilant Cura, clad in her golden armor, stood at the center, flanked by her large entourage of companions.

The air was stale, and the caverns dank. Varla pointed forward into the darkness, towards a large stone wall. "That's it, isn't it? It looks as the headless one described." The walls were of stone and mortar with standards depicting Mara's floral knot with her face at its center, identical to the Amulets Cura was familiar with; emblazoned gold over a deep crimson and green.

Mary gasped. "It is! Goodness, it looks like our Temple's old entrance! But... sullen; defiled." she noted the ugly atmosphere cast upon it by the caverns of Coldharbour. "It was above ground in my time, surrounded by the beautiful peaks overlooking the Niben. Confound Molag Bal and his ways!" She clenched her fists tightly in bitterness.

Sabrina tried to lighten the mood. "At least it's a replica, and not completely warped. I guess you could find a good bed to lie in or something."

"I doubt it." Carcette scoffed. "The beds in Coldharbour are likely covered in needles."

Cura narrowed her eyes and marched onwards. The air was oppressive; the only trace of Mara she felt in here was from Mary and Korn behind her. The space surrounding them was dark with the black fingers of Coldharbour, pressing into them all like a dough being kneaded.

When the group passed through with her, they were greeted by a very large body of water with a long bridge which stretched the length of it, linking the ledges together. The ceiling above had stalactites which resembled fangs of perdition, threatening to close their jaws upon all who dwelt below. This was not a holy site; far from it.

Varla questioned his mother. "I would assume that this place was destroyed by the Alessian Order... by my army." he shuddered lightly as the realization sank in. "I was young at the time, but I do remember the Emperor speaking to Pelan about a Temple of Mara near the Niben Bay. Perhaps this was it." the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

Sabrina was surprised to hear it. "Really? Wow, Varla; they really did you dirty. Killed your mother, threw you in the lake to drown, raised you to be a killer - "

Varla spun around and barked at her, a sudden fury clenching him. "I KNOW WHAT THEY DID!" His sudden reaction caused Sabrina to jump backwards, and the group's attention was focused on the bloodthirsty knight. Varla was seething. "It's just more fuel to the damned fire at this point. Gods..." he turned away and threw his helmet against the wall furiously. He leaned against it and began to massage his forehead. The wounds had reopened, and his sorrow was immense.

Gloriel watched his reaction and felt sympathy towards her killer. "Varla..." she could only bring herself to say his name, as the words eluded her. What could she of all people say to lighten him from here?

Mary gently caressed Varla's back to comfort him in his moment of pain, and Korn stood in front of him, panting at him."We're together now, Varla; and we will get through this. I promise." Mary reassured her distressed son. "The Alessians are paying for what they've done in the past."

"And so have you! You've suffered for their crimes! And you, as well!" Varla gestured towards Gloriel. "And these other Maran priests. Where's the justice in that? I deserve to be here, for all that I've done, but you... and them..." Tears streamed down his face as he withdrew into the shadows, seeking refuge like an injured canine. His sobs broke through the silence, revealing the turmoil that had been simmering within him for so long.

Sabrina walked behind Cura. "I didn't mean to cause this, I swear! I don't know why I say stupid things sometimes."

Carcette looked away from the scene. She remembered the innocent family of Jyggalag's followers that were murdered by Vigilants of Stendarr due to her own orders against Daedra in the past. How many more like them were there because of her callousness? Perhaps Varla, having been a supporter of the organization which killed his mother and her allies and laid waste to their temple, felt a similar, but far more profound sting.

Sir Ralvas was surprised by Varla's reaction. "Huh... I suppose he does have care for things other than himself after all."

Cura approached Varla in the shadows. "It's okay, Varla; we're going to make things right. I promise that I'll think of you as well, when I embed my mace in Molag Bal's head."

Varla wiped his eyes and bent down to retrieve his helmet. "Good; I hope it'll be drawn out and painful for that deceitful bastard when you do." He quickly pulled his helmet over his head.

Once they'd reached the other side, the darkness stretched apart like smoke and the sights were revealed: statues of the familiar hooded praying skeleton flanked either side of the bridge, but ahead was a flight of stairs leading to a gnarled iron door.

At the bridge's end, on the ground, lay a tattered journal, shrouded in dust, kicked on accident by Cura's boot. She noticed and quickly stooped to retrieve it, brushing the dust away with a hand gesture. A thick cloud billowed, prompting her to cough and spit. She dispelled the lingering dust by vigorously shaking the journal. An "M" was inscribed on its cover. When she opened it, she read it in her head, carefully scanning over the text.

"The persecution of our members has only gotten worse after Mary's execution. Why did Mary heal that boy with the Thrassian plague in the middle of the square? It was clear that the Alessians wouldn't allow that.

Lady Mara, what am I supposed to do?

I heard a voice. It must be the voice of lady Mara herself!

Tomorrow morning, I will lead the rest of our faithful to storm the Imperial City. I will gladly bring down the hammer on the Alessian Order.

The morning is here. I've never waited for the sunrise so impatiently before. Lady Mara, today we will show you our love with a pilgrimage of blood. Please, watch over us. Watch us drown the Alessian Order in their own blood.

-Maram"

Cura turned the book over to Mary. "It's signed 'Maram.'" She cringed, knowing that it was an ill sign. When Mary took the journal and read it, a look of fear came upon her. "No... Maram, why? How could you do that? This was never the way..."

"Are you sure we should proceed?" Mirabelle inquired of Cura nearby. "Surely a war awaits us."

"We need to be certain. If they can be reasoned with, maybe we can persuade them to join our cause." Cura said. She had respect for Mara's followers: after all, she was good friends with Erandur, and now Mary. Not to mention the Goddess herself. She agreed that if she could help Mara in any way, she would. And she would hold true to that promise.

Upon entering, they were immediately confronted by a colossal statue of Mara, a replica of the one found in Skyrim. She was depicted veiled, with arms wide open, her gaze lifted skyward as gentle tears fell from her eyes, mourning the world's horrors. Positioned behind her, on the raised platform, was her emblematic shrine. A blazing brazier lay at her feet, and encircling her were figures of hooded skeletons, their hands joined in prayer, a grotesque homage by Molag Bal to the devout followers lost to the Alessian onslaught. Facing this grim tableau were three stone pillars, each bearing the standard of Mara.

"Disgusting." Cura sneered at the display of death surrounding Mara. The sight of it was comforting at first, until the rest of it had sunk in. She turned to Mary immediately. "I'd wager this was not how you left it."

"Not at all," the Priestess said, shaking her head in shame. "How could this happen? Who's idea was this?"

"I'd think Molag Bal, honestly." Sabrina quipped.

Bourlor shook his head. "What would you expect of him, the vile, disgusting creature?"

Carcette noticed a shadow on the ceiling, lurking above, and quickly grabbed Cura's shoulder. "GET BACK!" Her motion was quick and precise, wresting Cura from a surprise attack as a large figure came crashing down with a large hammer. The figure was large and stout, wearing a golden armour that resembled an obese-bodied warrior.

Sir Amiel, the knight with a heart of gold, raised his sword. "Get behind me, Dragonborn! I will provide you with cover!"

Author's Note: for this fight, "Vigilant OST- Slaughterer Maram" Thanks for reading!

The figure spoke not a single word. He thrust his large hammer forward, striking Cura's shield immediately. Bourlor fired a swift arrow into his shoulder, causing the goliath to stagger backwards. When he doubled forward, he lunged for Mary and Korn.

Varla quickly got between the warrior and his mother, holding him back with his two swords. Each thunderous blow against him was anguish to his bones. Varla growled. "Somehow I knew this wasn't going to be easy!"

"Th-that's Maram!" Mary called out in terror. "MARAM! Stop! What are you doing? They're our friends! That's my son! Stop!"

The warrior in gold did not seem to hear her pleas; rather, he was occupied with trying to smash the people before him to pieces, growling viciously in a manner more akin to a beast than a man. His attacks were erratic; psychotic; inhuman. He'd forgotten who he even was, it seemed, and he did not recognize Mary or Korn.

Sabrina, the rogue, crouched in the shadows, daggers ready. She dipped two of them in a vial of venom and hurled them at the warrior. One embedded in his knee, between the armour plates, and his leg buckled, opening him up for a few strikes.

Carcette lunged at him with Pendulum, clubbing his head down while Gloriel impaled his right arm with her spear. The spear's flame caught onto him, causing him to recoil in anguish.

Savos and Mirabelle cast lightning and fire onto him, respectively, but from two differing angles. They focused greatly to slow him down as his massive, corroded hammer chipped away the pavement with each missed blow.

Korn, the white wolf, growled, her eyes fixed on Maram. However, she seemed hesitant to attack him.

Sir Amiel charged, his rusted sword meeting Maram's hammer. As soon as the corroded steel met the cudgel, Sir Amiel's blade was shattered and he was struck. Before Maram could land a killing blow, Cura rammed into his stomach with her shield charge, knocking him off-kilter. When the large figure hit the ground, he doubled over backwards, gripping himself in the fetal position.

After a final grunt, he collapsed and grew stiff.

Cura raised her mace in a swift motion and turned it over to the side, as if to command her army to stay their hand. Mary rushed past her to the side of their adversary. The Saint knelt down beside the body of Maram and clasped her hands together in a kind prayer on his behalf. Korn, who had walked up beside her, had ears that drooped sadly as she watched the display. Her tail hung low between her legs, and from her throat came sad squeaks that built up to a loud howl.

Varla approached Maram's head and removed his helmet, revealing a skull underneath. "He is beyond a Soul-Shriven now. That was why he couldn't recognize you, mother."

Mary knew it; it was a horrible pill to swallow, but she knew it the minute he attacked them unceremoniously. No; before that - when she'd read his journal. "Maram... I'm so sorry we couldn't save you. May you find the rest you've long needed now. Your suffering is over..."

It was a bitter mercy, but one just the same: he was freed from Molag Bal's clutches, now.

A loud bark startled her.

Korn slowly walked over to the other side of the destroyed soul before them and began to sniff his bones. The wolf approached the skull's open jaw, where there appeared to be residual light, and put her snout in it, gouging within, seemingly drawing out the remaining energy from the dead Soul-Shriven.

"Gods! What's the dog doing?!" Sabrina freaked out at the sight of it.

Mirabelle and Savos approached, their morbid curiosity getting the better of them. They stood side-by-side with Cura and watched as Korn slowly pulled out a small ball of tainted energy.

"That's his soul, I believe." Savos postulated to Mirabelle, who only watched silently, her eyes wide and fixated on the otherworldly spectacle before them.

Korn walked up to Mary with the small ball of energy in her mouth, and tilted her head to the side, her tail wagging furiously.

Varla scoffed. "Like a dog playing fetch."

Mary looked into Korn's eyes, which were looking back to her. She slowly accepted the soul into her hands. "Korn, you... you want me to purify it? How can I..."

Korn's eyes glistened a light blue colour, as did Mary's. Between the two of them, a gentle blue light enveloped the darkened soul of Maram, and black smoke dissipated from it.

Carcette stood between Cura and Sir Amiel, and Sabrina flanked her right. The former Keeper was amazed by what she was witnessing. "The power of Mara, cleansing the tainted soul... it's incredible. I never thought I would witness such a thing."

Cura leaned her head on Carcette's shoulder. "You underwent such a thing. When I gave you Stendarr's Water of Life."

Carcette recalled the moment when she regained her mortal clarity. The purging light of Stendarr rid her of the Vampirism she suffered from. She silently nodded, and placed her arm around Cura's back, embracing her protege.

When the light dimmed, the soul was a light purple colour, as was naturally intended. Mary's eyes dimmed, and she looked down upon it in her hands. She handed the soul back to Korn, and the sweet white wolf ran with the soul back to the collapsed body. She leaned into the skull's mouth again and returned the spirit to its body.

The skeleton began to change, as his body was enveloped in a gentle golden light. Muscles and flesh began to reconstruct themselves over the bone, and he began to shrink back to a natural size for a human. The young man's new eyes slowly began to open and he cautiously elevated from the ground. "Hrrg... what... what have I done...?"

Sabrina shrieked and leapt behind Sir Amiel, whose jaw was hung open. Sir Ralvas stood nearby. "I wish I could have seen whatever that was."

"He... he got his flesh back..." Sabrina shuddered. "That's... that's so... creepy." she stared at Korn from a safe distance. "I take back what I said earlier: that is no mere mutt. Definitely not."

"Maybe the dog can give me my head back, too. That'd be nice." Sir Ralvas scoffed jealously.

"It wasn't just the wolf; it was Mary, too!" Sir Amiel informed him. "In all my years, I'd never seen such a thing."

Maram looked at the familiar face of Korn, who was panting at him and licking his face. "K-Korn? Korn! Mary's wolf!"

Cura was amazed. She knelt down before the miracle that occurred before their eyes. "Praise to you, Lady Mara."

Mary walked up to Maram and lowered herself to speak to him. "Maram? Is it you now?"

"Mary!" Maram exclaimed with a great deal of surprise. "By the gods - it's you! It grieves me to see you in this terrible place..."

"It will be all over soon, dear friend." Mary informed him as he slowly stood up. She gestured towards the crowd before them, and singled out Cura, in particular. "This is Vigilant Cura, the Dragonborn, and devout of Stendarr. She is a friend to us. She is going to defeat Molag Bal and grant us freedom from Coldharbour! The Gods have sent her here to save us!"

"I... did I attack you? My apologies..." Maram looked the destruction surrounding him, traces of spells and rubble scattered about. "I wasn't myself... I don't know what became of me."

"You were Soul-Shriven." Carcette explained to the warrior. "You lost your purpose in Coldharbour, and were consumed with vengeance and hate."

Maram nodded solemnly. "I did. I just kept reliving that moment; when we invaded the Alessian Camps. After they killed Mary, we... it was never the same. For days, weeks, months, we led a slaughter against them in retaliation. Then we were captured and put to death. I don't remember anything else but those times."

"Coldharbour has a way of bringing out the worst in people. I forgive you, Maram." Cura expressed. "We intend to help Aria, as well, if she's here."

"Thank you, you are kind." Maram looked at Cura, and at her supporters. When he saw all who were following her, he could discern that there was more to her than meets the eye. "You will escort us from this black realm? Then I will accompany you. I will lead you below ground, to where Aria and the others dwell; please, whatever you can do; help them." He lifted his warhammer and mounted it on his back. Without a moment's hesitation, he ascended the stairs and beckoned the group to follow him.

"I will." Cura responded as she followed him closely. Her allies followed behind, with more questions now than they had before.

Varla gazed at Mary and Korn, and he too started to suspect that her ties to Mara were more profound than they had understood. It was undeniable at this point, particularly after what he had just seen her and Korn accomplish.

Perhaps the Aedra were closer than they thought.