Part I : Young and Faithful
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Chapter 7 : Catacombs, Part II
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Esril stood in front of the ghostfence archway; a look of determination painted on his face,his obedient skeletal servant waiting behind him.
The young dunmer watched the blue shimmering magical barrier that prevented anyone from entering and desecrating the many ancestor's shrines and burial chambers. He could hear the soft humming of the magic in action. One like him, a Speaker, could also hear the distant whispers of the ancestors bound to sustain the barrier.
Speaking of bound ancestors, Esril took the time to inspect the archway where, at regular intervals, white polished bones were sticking out of the sandstone's structure.
With a closer look, one could see that every one of the bones and skulls embedded into the archway to power its magic were covered with tiny daedric runes, incantations and sacred bindings carved on it, no doubt.
Focusing on his Second Sight, Esril peaked beyond what could normally be seen.
Now apparent to him only, were threads of energy of a light blue colour, forming an intricate net of protective magic.
After a close inspection, Esril could tell the threads were tightly woven together and strongly so.
' No holes in the webbing ' he concluded with appreciation.
All bones and skulls were powering the fence as intended, with neither disturbance nor malfunction. All was in order.
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The first of his duties complete, Esril took the time to marvel at what was to him an incredible piece of magic. He quickly understood with deduction and his Sight the unique pattern of the enchantment, seeing that every thread was connected to one bone or skull.
Naturally, all his observations, he stocked in the depths of his impressive mind.
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Unable to stop his curiosity, he touched one of the threads, feeling its magic, going as far as pinching it between his fingers, almost playfully.
Then, not knowing where such impulse came from, he watched himself pull harshly on the ethereal thread, with a mixture of fascination and horror, severing the connexion to the bone it was attached to seconds before.
With a gasp, Esril realised what he just had done.
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A whole section of the magic webbing flickered, to the verge of collapsing, before other bones and skulls sent more power to create new threads of magic, repairing quickly the breach.
Esril, still not knowing what went through him to do such a thing, watched in shock the barrier knitting itself back to full working. The magical web was still functioning but its light had dimmed a bit, having to compensate for the now wavering thread, not attached to anything anymore.
Shaking his head, the young dunmer cleared his hazy mind.
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He had to repair the damage before another Speaker came and saw what he did.
He was tasked to test Necrom wards, not tear them down, for Vivec's Name !
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He shook his head a second time, chasing out of his mind the insidious idea that he would indeed be very much capable of tearing it down if he so wished to . . .
He scolded himself mentally for his sacrilegious thoughts, for it was breaching his sacred oath !
And coming from nowhere, he might add.
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Esril's waryness increased tenfold. What was happening to him ?
Before dwelling more on whatever darkness had taken over him, he set himself to undo the tearing in the magical fabric he'd been responsible for.
Grabbing the loose thread, he swiftly tied it back to the corresponding bone, infusing a small burst of his own magic into the intricate design, to make up for the deperdition of power he'd just caused.
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After a minute, he saw with a relieved sight, the magical barrier get back to its pristine condition.
The rare few pilgrims and devotees coming and going had been entirely oblivious of what just transpired, to Esril's utmost relief. The whole event would only be perceptible by someone with the Sight, like another Speaker from the Order.
Fortunately for him, Esril was the only one charged with the Catacombs duties at the moment.
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Anxiety rigging his mind, he crossed the archway when the magical fence vanished to let him enter, not without him reciting the mandatory sacred vows to not do any harm to the dead, or suffer the ancestors's wrath and curses.
Entering the All Saints Gallery, Esril took the time to kneel in front of the ALMSIVI main shrine, making offerings of incense, food and gold to the Gods, in an attempt to appease his troubled mind and atone for whatever folly took him a moment before.
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He stayed there on his knees a full hour, reciting prayers upon prayers, seeking to bring back peace in his heart.
Those insidious thoughts and actions of using his unique gift to weaken the Temple had shaken and disturbed him deeply. He knew it was perfectly out of character.
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He took this meditative time to strengthen his resolve, more determined than ever to fulfil his duties. He wanted to be an asset, never a threat.
He wanted the Temple to be proud of his deeds and service. He felt so grateful for how the Temple took care of him and gave him purpose.
With hindsight, he was now convinced such nefarious ideas could only come from one of the Four Corners of the House of Trouble, the bad daedras, set to pervert any devotee and lead them astray from a good and faithful life. Of course, it could be even worse, and be the Sharmat influence . . .
A shiver went up and down his spine to the mere thought.
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A few more feverish prayers later, just to be sure, he went on his way to the task ahead : checking the different family shrines, burial chambers and ashpits, as well as inspecting the binding of every undead sentinel guarding the necropolis sprawling miles and miles underground. An arduous task.
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Of course his silent and oblivious skeletal servant was still on his heels, serving mostly as a beast of burden. The sight of it made several eyebrows raise, coming from the few livings on pilgrimage or on duty of taking care of the shrines. A quick look would be enough for them to recognize a Speaker of the Dead on official duty and his undead servant, they all took their gaze away at the realization.
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Esril took several hours to inspect every gallery of the upper chambers.
Everything felt in order for his spirit-attuned senses. The undead sentinels were calmly doing their eternal patrols, ancestral ghosts were roaming around at peace.
As asked of him, the young Speaker stopped at every noble family's main shrine to make traditional offerings and prayers. He paid respect to the dead and nurtured the good relationship between the living and the Ancestors.
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After a priest informed him the Catacombs were about to close for the night, Esril finally chose to settle in a chamber used for storage. It was due time for a quick meal and good rest, he thought to himself. Given the appropriate orders, his skeletal servant unpacked the bedroll and fetched some saltrice bread and dry guar meat with some comberry jam.
His hunger satiated, he asked the skeleton with simple words to stay on guard and wake him in case of any ill-intentioned intrusion.
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As comfortable as he could, sleeping in an underground catacombs, he engaged in his daily meditation and let himself go into slumber, being rather exhausted from his day.
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He was walking endlessly.
Darkness was all-encompassing. Except for a faint blue light far away.
Whispers, everywhere, he could hear, sometimes distant, sometimes loud enough to be just behind him.
The faraway blue light seemed to be of human shape.
Unmoving and beckoning him to come closer.
But it was so far, and the whispers kept becoming louder, calling his name, begging for help, asking for his attention.
He could now feel unseen hands grabbing him and pressing him to stay, to pay attention.
Still, he felt the calling of the blue light stronger, waiting for him.
He wanted to reach her, he needed to.
But amongst the demanding whispers, one voice rose stronger than the other. His own voice.
A reminder, he knew.
A reminder of the Oath. The same Binding Words.
The Chains of Duty.
The ominous words rose louder, covering the spectral whispers, driving the blue light further away.
He wanted to scream his helplessness, his need to reach the blue light, but he couldn't.
His voice was already reciting the Binding Words louder and louder, all around him, inside his head even, with his own treacherous mouth he was saying them now, even if he wanted to stop and call for the blue light, call for Her.
The mark on his hand, the Seal, began to burn and shine, blinding him and preventing him from seeing the blue light.
The blue light, almost gone, driven away by the Binding Words.
Louder and louder, the Words became.
Blinding, the white-hot light from his hand.
Seering, the pain became, like burning iron aplied his skin.
All of it, unbearable, until . . .
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Esril woke up in sudden pain, drenched in his own sweat.
It took him a minute to remember where he was, helped by the sconces lighting up the walls of the catacombs storage he had elected to sleep in.
The pain that had woken him up came from his hand, exactly where he had received the mark of the Speaker. The lines of the sacred scarring had faded, but one could still see it from up close.
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The time it took him to remember where he was, was enough to make the pain already a blurry memory. He scratched the back of said hand absentmindedly, unable to recall what he dreamed about.
The more he tried, the more it seemed to elude him.
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Frowning at his absence of success, he checked the candle he had set before sleeping. Inspecting the marking on it, he knew then he had slept four to five hours.
Grumbling to himself, he took the time to wash his sleepy face with one of his waterskins and grab some slices of bread to eat.
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During all the time of his preparation, the unnerving sensation that he had forgotten something important had not left him a second.
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It was a perfectly morose Esril who emerged from his underground cellar, ready to take on the rest of his duty, more or less.
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Don't hesitate to put some comment on what you think of the story so far, it could always help me to improve.
What do you think this dream was about, what or who is this blue light ? And what made Esril tear down threads of the barrier he was supposed to maintain ?
Answers are to come, maybe not exactly in the next chapter, who knows ;-)
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