Echoes Of Aldmeris
Loading Screen…The Nifelcairn Way is a giant underground passage that is housed beneath Skyrim, said to be home to the Nifelworm, a giant worm zooming around beneath the surface, worshipped by a devolved offshoot of Nord known as the Horme Bandits…
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Krest covered his eyes as a blimp flew overhead, supposedly carrying passengers trying to get away from Skyrim. The turbines of the massive blimp twirled as it lifted over into the clouds.
"You're finally awake!" Ancano said.
Krest sighed depressingly, slowly standing onto both feet. He transformed his forearms back into Dwarven stinger-blades. His augmented leather-gauntlet and skin rived off as sharp, needle-like blades extended out from his mechanically flesh-hollowed arms.
Ancano held up his hands placatingly. "I was just observing the unicorn! It's been near you all night, watching over your body."
Krest turned and saw a gleaming white furred figure on all fours, grazing by where he'd slept, a shiny, spindly horn protruding off its crown. Amongst the groves of flowers and exotic plants, the sight seemed surreal. Krest retracted his weapons, the gauntlets reattaching themselves, and approached slowly. The mythical horse bowed its head and Krest stroked the hairs on its neck, gently patting it.
"You've never felt a woman's warmth, you're too young," said Ancano. "Only the untouched can touch or ride unicorns."
"I'm a warrior who doesn't need love or affection," Krest spoke venomously. "A warrior doesn't need anyone."
Ancano burst out laughing. "You keep telling yourself that, but you'll collapse eventually and then that tough guy charade will come crumbling down and everyone will see the real you."
"What do you mean?" Krest narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
"Babies die without their mother's love. You need it, we all do." Ancano smiled.
"I'll survive."
Krest opened his shouldered satchel and took out a protein-block. He looked at the unsavory stick of hardened gelatin and broke half of it, placing one part back into his bag and feeding the other piece to the unicorn who gobbled it up. You somehow kept me from freezing in this flowerbed. Krest bent down and inspected the array of yellow flowers as the rays of dawn descended through the dense canopy. He sniffed them and twirled one with two fingers. They emit heat or something. An alchemist might pay a few septims for these.
Krest pocketed some in his satchel. Gathering sticks and branches, Ancano and Krest started a fire and hunched down by it. They boiled some coffee as a penguin waddled over to them and sat on the log, allowing the heat to warm up its flippers. Krest handed his remaining ration to the flightless bird as he took a long sip of coffee. The fire flicked back and forth, eroding the sticks under it, a small ash mound formulating. I should go to Nordenbjorg regardless, his mind swilled, maybe it's no coincidence I was chosen to transport that prisoner.
The power, the thu'um, the ability to turn his enemies to ash with the powers of being the Last Dragonborn flitted through the eye of his mind.
Even if I was though, would it change anything? Clouds covered his mind and he stared at his palm. What is the point of living in this world.
Krest stomped out the fire and Ancano blast it with a torrent of basic water magic. Krest set off through the croaks and groans of the neighbouring pine trees atop the unicorn as Ancano followed closely behind. Krest gently stroked the white horse's neck as its golden hooves trundled through the swirls and snowy flower patterns of the northern floor. He cleared his throat as they came upon a massive, silver door into the valley of Bleak Falls Pass wedged in between the small canyon.
Krest hopped off his steed.
Globules of purple bobbles poked through the soil, rising to his waist. Lumbering and enjoying the sights of ancient Falmer ruins; white marble minarets and crumbling outposts. Krest continued to entertain ideas of power before the two of them happened at a glen. A circle of cherry-blossoms enclosing it. Ancano swept aside the pink leaves while Krest's ice-blues settled onto a statue of a tattered-black dragon. Four legs, two wings, a long snout with protruding horns that curved from under the jaw. Marbling ridges grooved to emulate scales with a barbed tail. Like evil itself had blossomed into existence. Various spriggans and druids were appraising it. They gave them long, beady stares. Krest walked slowly, hands to his sides, one foot mushing the marsh at a time as fog swarmed from an unknown source. He gulped thickly, carefully sliding though the druidic forest dwellers. He placed his hands on either side of the statue's face, reading the engraving.
Konahrik, Devil of Elves
Drops assaulted the stippling as the sky bled warm black oobleck with smidges of grey sludge. It was as if the Divines were sprinkling a gooey inkwell into the mortal world.
Krest looked back up and around him. He pointed at the massive, elven-styled doorway at the end of the glade. The spriggan mother, a towering, curvy figure nodded and Krest stepped over to it, grunting and pushing the door open forcefully with the Thalmor's help. Walking through the gate, he dwelt on his thoughts a bit amongst the arboreal treescape. Ancano followed suit.
Wonder what Pierre Guimard is doing right now?
A short while later they ascended a spiraling hillside toward the Bleak Falls Mountain as blue snow and oobleck rain continued to swarm together. A few Falmer cozied up near each other by a bonfire, eating crackers and coffee.
"I hope we don't run into any Orcs out here," Ancano commented, gulping visibly.
Krest acknowledged him with one eyebrow, tilting his head exasperatedly.
When they trekked toward the grey monolithic structure embedded into the mountain face underneath blistering cold blizzards, a large encampment of Orcs and Trollocs lurked on the other side. They sat near fire pits, roasting oxen and lamb, rotating their crudely made spits. Orcs were greyish goblin-kin with tusks and broad muscles while Trollocs were some sort of demonic minotaur in service of Malacath. – They snuck up the icy steps and slipped into the nordic ruin.
Bleak Falls Barrow. It was quiet and the bastion held a partially open roof allowing light to bask in. The two traversed the eerie expanse, walking over lain skin rugs on the cold stone floor. They walked down steppingstones and curved a corner, dust dusting off in their wake. It's like no one's set foot here in a century. It was dark too as no candles, brazier, or torches would offer any light here. Krest marveled at a waterfall gushing through a peak as a solitary figure bathed in its stream. They snuck nearby behind a bramble and saw it was the Sun Prisoner that Krest had fought. The sun man was hairy and muscular, the typical macho type. There were some weird scratches on his back, like some animal had dug them in there and drawn across.
Krest narrowed his eyes. "Where's his armor?"
The golden plating was lying on a wet flat boulder nearby. Krest looked closer and saw a woman too, bathing with the fallen aedra in the downflow. Was that… Elisif?
"You are so innocent." One end of Ancano's lip briefly turned up.
Krest wondered if he should ambush the Sun Prisoner in order to recapture him but quickly reconsidered, no he'd just beat me, and Elisif might get hurt too.
Some shuffling footsteps reverberated down the passage whence Krest and Ancano came.
"Orcs are coming, we need to go." Ancano ushered him out.
A few minutes later, past some Draugr graves, their destination was found, beneath a broken Dwemer bust. Ancano and Krest stepped onto the elevator there and kicked the switch.
It anchored to the ground and the duo stepped off the rise. Emptying out beyond some rock-faced caverns into a wide tunnel with grooves and ridges running across on every level. The architecture and make was ancient Nord. Carvings of various gods from the old Nord pantheon. The one of a moth adorned by a lily caught his eye. He dusted it off as he passed by. His insides burned when he saw the maroon slime oozing off the walls though, stinking like grease. Footsteps echoed down the curve. Around the corner several individuals dressed fully in raggedy armor came into view.
Hörme.
"Jsashe humbiblee gleebaa," one cried.
"Potema granheen. Talos, Tibre Scepter! Oon prophecy koroct," the other one appeared to be debating with him.
Glimpsing at the one who'd removed his tribal covering; they were inbred Nords with hunched-backs, ovular oblong crowns and foreheads. Crooked, hooked noses with buckteeth. Almost as short as Breton women. The women among them had weak, wispy stubble oddly enough just like Gnome women. - The boring of the black bird-eyes, tribal totems, and oblong skulls was a unique combination. Ancano and Krest quickly ran over to the wall into an angled corner. Rumblings, shakings, and thrills drummed closer. - Then Krest saw it. A titanic, ebony monster. A bone-ribbed body with a few openings for flesh and jagged, spiked teeth that looked sharp enough to cut through stone.
"JUMP!" Ancano yelled.
Krest lunged with his blades extended and dug them into the upper parts of the Nifelworm's flesh. Instantly ripped from his spot, speeding down the underground hallway at high velocity. Ancano having dug into it with his dagger. The serpentine beast let out a wail and dark blood gushed from its lodes as they climbed on top. Seating themselves between two sets of skinned pleats. The worm forwarded and took a turn near where they had descended via the lift, shooting through another set of dark cavernous halls. Krest frowned, allowing his long hair to engulf the sides of his jaw and trickle down to his shoulders. A cascading waterfall of dark-brown as he leered down at the greyish-black body of the Nifelworm. He drew invisible, imaginary symbols on the bones of the invertebrate as it thundered through the dim grottos. Glowing luminescent stripes struggled through the ceiling now and the stones melded onyx with glimmering mushrooms that dotted along.
The giant worm sailed like a train through the underground passage. He laid back and let himself pass out for a for a few minutes? Hours?
His mind swirled and swayed and he saw a land made of crystal. White marble hills and terrain.
This was Aldmeris, the land of elves. The Aldmer walked here, wearing royal clothes. He felt some weird sense of connection to the land, but not the people.
Krest was in awe as a woman approached him. Her name was Aluwen Kaladalf, he could sense it.
"Hello, my name is Krest Armilius."
"Welcome, you are most welcome here!" Aluwen smiled brightly at him.
Krest was surprised. "What happened to this place?"
"Lorkhan happened," Aluwen explained. "He stole this land and renamed it." As she spoke, snow began to fall over the landscape and Krest saw Shor, the god of men in ancient times, land at the beach. He began ordering his men to kill everyone and ruin this perfect place. They took the women for themselves, savagely ravaging them like animals, burned thousands of children alive, and erased all remnants of elvenkind from the now, snow-covered land.
Krest felt intense rage at Lorkhan. He wanted to break his teeth and gouge out his eyes.
The earth grumbled and groaned, strained from the stress inflicted on it by the monster as Krest opened his eyelids.
Black mass blundered away as a bend neared. The Nifelworm hurtled round the turn, and they launched off, Krest doing a roll after landing to break his fall while Ancano landed on both feet like a cat.
Finally, he was near Nordenbjorg. After so much traveling, he'd made it from the heart of the heartland to the northern fringes of this frozen wasteland. Most of his missions prior to this had been in the warmer parts of his homeland, so this was very foreign.
The Tamrielens came out into the evening, the sky glistening carroty undertones, exploding with magenta and blue reflections off the marble, the makings of an aurora in progress. This must be Haafinheim. The chiefdom was almost entirely devoid of nature like that of the other holds. The entire landscape was comprised of white marble, layered with snow. Just like my dream of Aldmeris.
"The Snow Elves who congregated here in the Merethic Era enchanted the hold into looking like their ancient homeland, Aldmeris." Ancano spanned his arms around.
Krest dipped his boots into the marble in-laid shoreline of the vibrant blue ocean. "What about Elisif?"
"I'm glad we didn't attack. He is powerful, he would've killed us both." Ancano coughed in the bitter wind. "What Elisif is doing with him however, I have no idea."
Fairies flickered around, and way out, two creatures were prowling about. One, a gargantuan landwyrm, slithering on the mineral, its yellow skin highlighted against white stone. The second was a huge, creepy-looking raven, swooping onto old battlements near a Falmeri arch. A lump was resolved to make a home nestled in Krest's throat.
Across the lake near an inlet at the base of the mount was a blue whale of holy proportions. Its mouth ajar as people entered it. Once inside, the whale blew water from its blowhole and submerged into the sea, swimming away. They must use whales as ferries here. Massive ships were here too.
A few snow-rays drew past them in a glissade, twirling and flapping like netches though they mirrored their underwater cousins, the manta ray in appearance. Ancano took longer strides, yawning as the sky deepened a shade, stars diffusing their way in. The pair was near a bouldering mass with a floating island in front of it, way above. The Arch of Solitude. Expect it was all white marble rather than gray like most boulders. Up above the Arch of Solitude was Nordenbjorg. Even from here Krest could see the towering apartments that made up the city. Even the mountains in the distance were made of marble, decorated with snow and cherry blossoms. A minotaur was blocking the bridge over the river. It lumbered up and down the crystalline crossing, a crude stone club in its hand, hanging by its side. The minotaur expelled air through its thick nostrils, its huge muscles flexing and contorting. The beast turned and Krest saw the bull's face with two long horns projecting near its ears. While the legs were bent and shaped like that of a horse or chicken with hooved feet.
Something churned inside Krest's head. The descendant of Belhazra was too powerful to dispatch normally, and they needed to get into the city.
Krest stole looks from around to make sure there weren't any other predators. He saw jellyfish bobbing in the lake near a port with huge raiding vessels and cargo ships, foisting slaves and goods into the city via cranes scaffolding the Arch of Solitude. A train, presumably from High Rock glided in through into an underground station as well. Karls with tellums, braided beards, and bear pelts ladened over chainmail sauntered through the thatched roofed portside cottages with pilfered goods and barrels of mead. A pyre boat funeral was being held in honor of one of their fallen comrades. Krest watched in horror as the dead man along with his belongings, including alive elven thralls were burned with molting lava and set off towards a whirlpool.
These Nords are monsters.
"Ulfric Stormcloak's doing. He's all about traditional nordic values and customs." Ancano pursed his lips, running a hand through his short blond hair.
Krest thought he saw something lurking on the other end of the bridge. "Follow my lead. Shoot a firebolt at that Minotaur."
Ancano shot the bolt at the minotaur, aiming beneath its horned temples. The burn burned into the monster's cheek, and it spun around on the spot, swaying momentously. It roared and Krest's sight flitted across the dock.
The two ran away but Krest glanced back now and again to check if the man-bull was tailing them. Its legs and towering upper body made its speed slow, and they had no issue keeping far from it. Soon enough they neared the area where the landwyrm was roosting, that creepy giant raven also there, spying on their arrival from the top of a wrecked milky tower. The bird of prey blinked its dark jewel eyes, its beak curving into a smirk, feathers ruffling as it readjusted its position atop the archaic watch post. It marveled as though it wanted to spectate the eminent combat.
That thing is up to something.
Ancano shot an ice-spike at the landwyrm. The wyrm reared up, hissing as blood spilled out, oozing from one of its cursed golden eyes. Krest was gone, silently stooping back over to the widening bay where seals and horkers rested as the Altmer struggled to catch up. The ophidian had fallen for it as it lunged for the minotaur, and they soon were locked in a bloody battle. The raven above clicked its beak, jouncing on its talons. The landwyrm coiled around the minotaur's chest and the bull-man smacked it with his club. Krest didn't see the rest however because he chose to sprint away then, doing his best to not slip on the silky smoothness. He slowed down the way across the viaduct, glancing back as Ancano caught up. The giant bird was still observing the death match. The massive lizard was writhing and screeching wildly, thrashing its tail as the minotaur, who was scoured in bite marks and scratches, did its best to choke the wingless dragon. The snake's ichor drained away like wine being poured from a glass, gliding on the gemstone land.
"That was a masterclass of strategy, Krest." Ancano and Krest passed the span and some crumbling crystal constructions, ascending a tall hill toward the city of Nordenbjörg. "Home to Jarl Ulfric and Thane Elisif. The name Nordenbjorg roughly translates to haven for Nords."
Nordenbjörg was built on an arched cliff which extended past the river so boats could pass under, acting as a monumental land-bridge for the ivory beach. It was protected by prodigious, white-marbled walls and high gates with armoured fortifications and watchtowers. Krest saw castle spires on the left-hand side, deeply embedded in the heart of the grand city. There was a floating island with a glistening gold temple across the edge where the wall dipped. A giant golden statue of the goddess Dibella was on top of the prayer house, her curving body holding up a pale flower and her hair pouring down like running water.
Krest lent down and cupped his hands in the lake and slurped up as much water as he could before his palms felt fit to freeze off. Washing his face and lochs.
Something receded in the corner of his eye.
Sharp, thwacking footsteps sounded behind him and something cloaked in black, a long katana clutched in their hand sliced through the air.
His opponent pulled off her mask.
A Redguard woman was beneath the hijab. She had a thick black mane and three scars that ran under one eye. She was around thirty-something and of similar height to Krest. She reinserted her katana in its scabbard.
"You two shouldn't be wandering out here. Come on, I'll escort you to the city." She scrutinized them with narrowing sapphire-blue eyes. "Who are you though?"
Krest moved over to the moonlight and showed the Imperial sigil on his armband. "I'm the Praetorian they sent with the prisoner. This is Ancano, he's a Thalmor. We lost the prisoner. I'm sorry, his strength, it was unnatural."
"Praetorian, I've been awaiting you. Mother Dibella's going to be upset." Saadia shook her head, massaging her crown. "She'll want to speak with you two, so you better come with me. Before you give me that stupid look, know that I am Saadia Iman, the Sybil of Dibella. The reason you were bringing that man here was because he was going to be prosecuted by the Divines for his crimes. The Thalmor can tell you more," she ended with a pointed look toward Ancano.
Krest scraped the snow off his boots from the marble step. Speaking with the gods. His heart trembled.
Ancano turned to him. "Akatosh's angelic agents – the Sehrin are in contact with the Thalmor's leaders. They arranged this secret meeting, hence why Summerset hasn't invaded Skyrim in search of the Sun Prisoner."
What do Akatosh and the Thalmor know that we don't? Who exactly is the Sun Prisoner?
"Now, come on." Saadia marched up the hillside again, ascending the marbling of the pathway. She looked back briefly, and Krest thought he saw her gaze linger on the High Elf.
The elf looked confused. Krest hadn't given it much thought, but Ancano was handsome. Ancano so far was a curious case since he wasn't as snobbish as other Thalmor. Krest admired him, despite the fact he'd so far remained annoyed by the Thalmor, trying to ban Talos worship.
Talos had always been his hero since he was a child. Talos was the Hero. Just as Konahrik was the Devil.
Saadia, Ancano, and Krest came upon the rose-gold, gilded gate that sat at the mouth of Nordenbjörg, beneath boulders that jutted out and low jewelry-ladened hills. A sphinx sat in front of the entrance, in place of guards. Bodies were hung outside on ropes, some in cramped bird cages. Krest hissed lowly at the sight.
A half-Redguard, half-Imperial man was leaning near the gate. He wore a yellow robe.
"Hello, Yeshur." Saadia nodded.
"Greetings, Sybil." Yeshur was smoking a pipe full of what smelled like nirnroot.
Saadia balanced on one hip, placing a palm there. "Why don't you tell me my fortune?"
"Very well, child of Ruptga." Yeshur closed his eyes and spun his fingers. "You have the heart of your father."
"And here I thought you were a prophet." Saadia rolled her eyes.
"What can I say?" Yeshur smirked cheekily.
"What about me?" Ancano asked.
"Yours is clearer, you will find true love."
Ancano's head jerked back at that.
"We'll see you around, Yeshur." Saadia waved with a wink at Ancano.
Yeshur's shoulders rose and fell like an empire. "As for the Imperial." He turned to Krest, scrutinizing him closely. "A brave man is one who looks the Devil in the eye and dares to name him for what he is."
What?
As for the sphinx gate-guardian. The white winged half-lion was quite big, poised like a cat on its heels in front of their destination. It wore the noble likeness of a woman with a Redguardian style headdress and horns.
Saadia regarded them. "She'll ask a riddle that serves as a password."
"I loved her first, though wrong it seems. Bound by blood, not by dreams." The sphinx gazed at them, batting its large orange eyes. "Who am I?"
"Want to try?" Saadia smirked at them.
Krest stared flatly, eyelets sharpening while Ancano spoke, "Chrysanthilion Anthorasia, the boy who fell in love with his own mother."
Saadia petted the sphinx gently. "An Altmeri folktale."
The hawkmoth inclined its pride. "You may enter." The door opened behind it, and they trailed inward towards the atrium.
The conurbation was a mixture of Falmer and Dwemer with some Nordic enhancements. A collection of ivory buildings lined and doored by gold brass, with ebony reinforcements. The megalopolis felt crowded and cramped in the narrowing overpasses and highways. High-rises rose over and over like layering on a cake into higher neighborhoods where richer citizens dwelt. Eggshell colored skyscrapers. There was a cascade of sloped-styled buildings with enclosed waterways. Dwarven robots tinkering about. A windmill was in the far back too. Dwarven monorails running across the city into clock-tower stations.
A brothel called Dibella's Warmth rested beneath one of the skyscrapers. Krest sneered in disgust at the men floating outside of it.
"Mind the guards here. Many of them are enlisted because they can't afford to pay taxes," Saadia warned. "If you break rules, they will ticket you to meet their monthly quota."
"Terrible and powerful Talos! We unworthy servants give praise!" A preacher cried in front of a towering statue of Talos. "You walked among us great Talos! Not as god, but AS MAN! Talos the mighty! Talos the unerring! Talos the unassailable! To you we give praise!"
"That's Heimskr. Don't mind him." Saadia kept walking.
"By Talos is he annoying," Krest sighed.
"BUT BEWARE!" Heimskr screamed. "The Aldmeri Dominion are under the control of the Devil, Konahrik! They seek to destroy worship of our greatest hero!"
Ancano grumbled quietly.
When Krest returned his attention to Saadia, she was pointing something out to them. "It's called Radiant Raiment, just go in and ask for a proper fur cloak." She glimpsed them over. "On second thought, let me."
"I'm good, just get me a bow and some arrows." Krest stared at his palm.
I wonder if Dibella is actually going to come down here and talk to us. That'd be bizarre. Robed members of the School of Jhunal came filing out of one of the mega-buildings discussing in hushed whispers as children sailed kites in the night wind.
"Now that Thane Torygg is dead, the High King has appointed Elisif to become Jarl of Nordenbjorg and take the Amaranth Throne," one of the mages muttered to his colleague. "But Ulfric won't let that happen of course."
"Do you think the rumors are true? The ones about Tamriel converting to a republic?"
"Like those islands to the east?"
Before Krest knew it, Saadia was back, holding a bag full of a various assortment of coloured garments. Saadia led them around a corner behind the boutique and a small bookshop. "Go ahead, you'll freeze to death in that ragged blanket you call a cloak." She shifted her focus onto something else. "Ancano, you get something too!"
Krest secured the bow and arrows Saadia had brought, opting to keep his original cloak.
Ancano rifled through the sack, palpitating in the frigid, icy air of northern Skyrim. He threw on a burly cloak while Krest ripped off his empire-badge. Ancano also changed his Thalmor robes for common clothes.
"You ready to go?" Saadia signaled away with her thumb. "Now, I want you both staying in the Temple of Dibella with me. The other priestesses aren't here right now, and the goddess will need to speak with you as soon as possible." A deactivated gate of Oblivion sat in the background.
That's why the Dibellans were at Old Fort. Dibella wants them out, not a liability for whatever's about to come. Something related to that prisoner. He recced skeptically at the blue-grommeted Redguard. A cat prowled away, licking some spilled liquid in the corner of his eye. Goosebumps tingled over his arms at the thought of the Last Dragonborn prophecy.
A cloudburst split above them, and rain trickled down, pattering the cityscape into a smooth, sleek shine as a group of Nords jogged past them. They must be practicing for a Brumathon, like for the Aetheriucs back at home.
Saadia and Ancano led him through the winding city streets. "Tomorrow night in fact, I am summoning Dibella Y'ffre herself. She has forewarned me of this, and I am preparing for her communion. She is the heart of the universe. Known as Y'ffre to the elves. Without her, everything would fall apart. A pillar of creation and existence itself."
"I prefer Auriel-Akatosh myself," Ancano chuckled.
"Oh, shush, you," retorted Saadia with a smirk.
Krest ingested a knot in his throat, observing the white flow of edifices and rising tiers of upper districts as more gold, gray, and washed-out housing blocks drifted near. They glided toward the municipality's edge. Akatosh banishing a deity from the sun and now Dibella choosing to appear on Nirn. Last time Akatosh appeared it was to defeat Mehrunes Dagon and Jagar Tharn, a year before I was born. This all has something to do with the Sun Prisoner. But what? He rubbed his eyes.
Smiths worked with magical ice on forges as Nord warriors practised their battle cries and wode shields on blacktopped training grounds. Krest received plenty of looks, judging by the faces of the Nords here, they'd seldom seen an Imperial this far north. A goat sat in the yard of a gated manor with people lining up to drink its milk.
"That's Heidrun, the goat that produces mead instead of milk. Owned by the Forkbeard family," extrapolated Saadia. "The people lined up are Hafnir Forkbeard and his wives."
Krest looked at the three Nord women, all half the age of Hafnir. Those poor women.
"Some Nords copy their dead hero-god, Shor, who took three wives." Saadia scowled at the sight of it.
"Well, I've heard Dibella's had quite the number of men herself," Ancano pointed out. "Our Akatosh has only ever been with Mara."
Saadia laughed. "Dibella once had a harem of Breton boys."
"Dibella and her harem of Breton boys." Ancano grinned. "Sounds like a band of bards."
I've never even felt the touch of a woman, thought Krest neutrally. He didn't really care about that sort of thing though.
"Communicating with the Divines directly, can you believe it?" Whispered Saadia as they pounded the pavement. "We have to keep it secret. Can't let the prisoner catch wind."
They strolled past the last line of exquisite mansions to a place where the wall lowered, offering a broad view of the Sea of Ghosts below. Crowds of people, brass robots, and more flocked in crowds around them. Fog blinded the way, and they could see a blimp way in the distance. All underneath skylines of stacked clouds on a blue-black evening rippling with raindrops. A bright aurora behind the clouds.
"Shouldn't this one be at the temple," slurred a nearby drunk who was slumming his way down the pier.
"Where do you think we're headed?" A crease formed between her curved brows.
"Sure, sure." The Khajit stooped away, hiccupping. "Mmm, get J'zargo some skooma."
Krest watched him whisker away, guilt gnawing at his solar plexus. Across them, on the same floating island he'd seen earlier was the Temple of Dibella. A floating purple orb sat at the boundary of their end of the cliff face. Saadia placed her palm on it, and it briefly glowed a vivid hue of blue that matched the calm sea below, morphing back to purple, reminding Krest of the Sun Prisoner's eyes. Saadia took Krest's hand with her free arm and Ancano's with her other and they teleported.
Arriving on the island, Saadia relinquished them. Krest saw a small Dwemer-domed keep to their left and presumed it was a guardhouse.
The courtyard was decorated with gold and cream-colored tiles forming a platform that had a Dibellan fountain in the middle, her hair serving as the geyser, mirroring the bigger statue on top of the temple. The temple had two adjoining far buildings, one on either side that conjoined in the middle. Four gardens were broken up by the main square. They entered the house on the left-hand side, revealing to be a dorm room, marked with individual compartments. Goat-horned candles, torch brackets, and blinds as divisions. Saadia led Krest and Ancano to the one closest to the wall. They passed one of the remaining priestesses on the way there...
"Oh hello, Idrasa." Smiled Saadia at the Dunmer.
Krest quirked an eyebrow. She was sitting on her bed, entranced in a book called The Arcturian Heresy.
"This is Idrasa Relas. I trust her enough to not make a ruckus like the rest." Saadia turned Ancano's cheek down the hall.
Saadia opened a door and showed Krest his room, circumscribed by slate with a greenish-blue bed.
"I'll let you hunker down and get some rest." Saadia closed the tab, and her footsteps soon died down the hall. "Come on, Ancano, let me show you where you'll be resting your head."
Krest dropped his things, locked the door, kicked off his boots and fell onto the bed, allowing sleep to consume him.
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A/N: Trollocs belong to Robert Jordan and the Wheel of Time. Check out my friend, Rlidragon's story on Skyforge called Corvus Rem. It's a john wick inspired Skyrim story! Please review btw. I know this story is a little heavy, but I promise it has payoff. Just don't skimp the details. The Devil is in the details, after all.