The Nursery
Loading Screen… The Divines reside in Aetherius, the heavenly realm outside the mortal plane. Long ago, one of their brethren, Lorkhan betrayed them and was thus killed and banished. He is seen as a hero by Men, and a force of evil by Elves…
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Krest struggled off the mattress, yawning and stretching his arms. He sat there still, closing his eyes. Two candles flickered across from him against the spade-shaped windowsill. One was orange, a dim hue. The other was bright blue, burning fiercely but also melting faster.
The candle that burns twice as bright lasts half as long.
Mustering the strength, he stood forcefully and marched over to the closet on the side. He pulled out some towels, swung them over his shoulder and stepped out of his room into the corridor. The hallway was cramped between the wall and doors to the dormitories of the evacuated priestesses, but the blinds and curtains had been cleared to let sunshine canvas the area. The door to his left opened and out sidled Saadia.
Saadia held a hand to her mouth as she looked back, exhaling a deep chasmal. "Nice to see you're up already. I'm going to the bathhouse. You can shower in the guardhouse."
Krest nodded.
"Ancano told me he'd be up early. Probably off doing some secret Thalmor work." She lightly punched his shoulder. "You know, Krest, you would blend right in with the girls with a bit of makeup and a dress."
Krest shrugged his towel further onto his shoulder. "Thanks."
Saadia chuckled. "I'm just saying if you needed to pass for a priestess, you could."
After showering, he appeared at the kitchens. The dining area had a great big hearth and counter at the forefront. Meat was being roasted on the hearth. A single table ran through the center. Two fairies were already there when he picked up a plate and stacked some breakfast items onto it along with pouring himself some coffee. He took a seat near the fairies.
Krest silently chewed on his studied his looming reflection in the cup of dark coffee, the colour matching his hair to a tee.
"Did you hear what's going on beneath the city? In the sewers, in the Nursery?" One of the fairies buzzed the one across from her.
The other shook her head. "What?"
So, it is true. The cities in Skyrim name their sewer systems. The one in Jattewood is called the Ratway, where they say the Thieves Guild reside. The one here in Nordenbjorg is called the Nursery. Odd name for a sewer; perhaps something to do with Mother Dibella?
"At least the Dark Brotherhood don't operate in Skyrim. They got wiped out from Cyrodiil last year too, now that I remember," Krest muttered to himself. "There's no mages association here either, now that I think about it, other than the Devotees of Dibella and School of Julianos."
"Rumor has it the Horme are down there running some sort of pub," snarled the first pixie.
Maybe worth investigating.
Soon enough he finished and cleaned off his plate in the basin embedded in the wall, heading back out. On his way he bumped into Saadia again, who now looked freshly washed, patting her hair dry with a cloth.
"Run some errands for me will you," Saadia enquired.
Krest rolled his eyes.
Saadia scowled at him. "Don't try to be clever with me."
He hissed at her.
"Dibella, a goddess, is coming here today. We need to prepare for her communion." Saadia tapped her foot against the pavement. "I want you to fetch the Gourmet who will be preparing the feast, Balagog Gro-Nolob. An Orc but supposedly very good at his craft. He's staying at the Winking Skeever at the west end of town near the entrance. He'll likely be in disguise since Orcs aren't allowed in the cities."
Krest's jaw dropped. "An Orc? No way. Orcs aren't civilized, they scour the lands in service to Malacath. They don't even speak the common tongue."
"I don't know how it happened, but this Orc escaped his tribe and became a famous cook, but he never removes his mask and hood from what I've heard." She patted him on the head. "Now, chop, chop. Get to it."
Doing as told, he proceeded through the crowded city, shaking off the mist and god-rays of cold. Heavy buildings leering at him from every avenue. He heard the whirs of the monorail on railways ahead as he walked by less reputable alleyways.
The Winking Skeever had gleaming gold doors with stained-glass windows, small statuettes of Dibella on each side. He impelled the egress inward, observing the roaring tongues of the fireplace, dodging the inn-keep who wore a Colovian fur-helm and approaching the lonesome bulky figure sitting by the hearth. A set of tafl was on the coffee table near them, it reminded Krest of the latrones him and the other Praetorians would play in the evening sometimes. Known as chess to the Bretons. - A monkey was sitting there too, sipping coffee in a mug near the fire.
"Whoa, what are you doing here?" Krest pet the little monkey on its head.
The monkey stared wisely at the wall. "I am Hanuman," it said. "My, my, what lovely blue eyes you have. Like jewels from the icy sea."
Krest's chest rose and fell like the hills and valleys of Skyrim. "Thank you, sir." Then he ticked the Orc with two of his fingers.
The masked Orsimer turned to gaze at him with lime-green irises and barely hidden tusks. "What do you want?"
"I'm here to take you to the temple." Krest made a lazy hand motion, flicking his locks.
He followed him out as a few Nords gave them the stink eye. They submerged themselves into the chilly northern climate once more, fog choking the city in clouds of steam. Balagog looked down, walking close to the wall behind Krest.
About half an hour passed before they got back, and the Orc set to making the meal straight away. Krest found an empty corner of the temple, an upstairs room with a stream of light shining through a spherical window. Lit with floating orbs that bipolarly jumped from ceiling to floor, and a table in the middle that had a map of Nirn. A drawer on the side with scrolls, manuscripts, and spell books. He found a mirror in the dusty attic and stared at himself.
If they send someone like Pierre Guimard, I'll… I'll kill him.
The Elven Mirror – it was called.
Krest watched the swirling grey of the mirror and saw himself… but he was an Altmer… no Aldmer. His normally olive skin was pale, his dark locks were blond, his ice-blue eyes were golden. He was a little taller and had pointy ears. His face was longer.
I look so perfect… the Aldmer really were the perfect race.
He paced around the upper floor as the creaks of the floorboards sounded beneath him. A wide-toothed comb was resting on a shelf. He grabbed the brush and a stool and sat down in front of the mirror again, running the comb through his strands of hair. The action cooled his nerves a bit, reminding him of fairytales as a kid.
But I'm just an Imperial.
Saadia summoned him into the communal chambers where her, Idrasa, and Ancano were gathered as night fell. He grabbed a broom and started sweeping to distract his mind as Saadia performed the rites. The two priestesses burned incense and sprinkled holy water and pink flowers across the ground. Enchanted ice sculptures were fixed on each corner of the antechamber and spriggans serenaded the grounds.
"She's coming." Saadia warned and everyone took a step back, their eyes glued to the midst of the chamber.
A blinding white portal shone, a pair of thick, toned legs stepped through it.
The goddess had an athletic physique, striated like a dancer. Her hair was short, a blonde pixie cut. Her eyes crystal clear, brows prominent. She was tall too, an inch taller than him; Krest himself was five-ten. Had she been a denizen of Tamriel, she'd have been called a Nord. Her skin was sun-kissed.
She doesn't look like how the statues depict her… maybe the statues are how she looked when she was younger.
They all bowed. He noted the layer of water over the squared center with a few lily pads and lotus flowers drifting across it.
"Resume," Dibella sighed in a lilting, mature tone.
"Lady Dibella," Saadia uttered, her sapphire-blue eyes magnified.
Dibella smiled, her red lips curling up. "Saadia, it's nice to finally see you face-to-face. You too, Idrasa." She flicked her gaze towards Krest and Ancano who both froze. "Are those the idiots who lost the prisoner? I told Akatosh to not just cast him out. Boys, over here."
Krest walked cautiously, his eyes fixed on a point behind Dibella, goosebumps searing over his arms and legs.
"What happened to the prisoner? You were the ones moving him, yes?" Dibella tucked her arms. "Speak!"
Krest stared at the floor in shame, reminded of his disciplining as a child in the Praetorian academy.
Ancano spoke up, straightening his back and broadening his shoulders. "We were ambushed by rogue Dwarven automatons. The prisoner incapacitated me and fought Krest but escaped."
"You fought him and lived?" Dibella's brow curved, turning to Krest.
Sweat perspired from Krest's temple, he didn't look Dibella in the eyes. "Wasn't much of a fight. He knocked me out."
Dibella strode back to Saadia, clutching her forehead. Krest recognized the agitation, his superiors had worn it often.
"We will do away with them if you want." Saadia lifted her chin.
Dibella chewed on her lower lip. "No, Akatosh will want these boys to stay around as witnesses. They can run errands or clean for now, I guess." She came back to the center of the chamber. "Now, I have come here to tell you that in two days' time, Akatosh and Tsun will be coming here. There is a situation we wish to explain that for the time being should be kept secret. Involving the prisoner."
"Why not just appear directly to a chapel of Akatosh? Why did they send you here?" Saadia asked.
"The temples of the other Divines are frequented too often. My temple was chosen due to the fact not many wish to come here. My worshippers usually choose to pray to me in the privacy of their own homes. Regardless, for the time being, I'd ask you to close the temple to any and all public services. Do not let word of my presence get out." Dibella brandished her revealing robes off the ground in a sweeping motion. "The prisoner will be harder to find if he learns of my presence on Nirn."
The edge of Saadia's mouth crinkled. "So, Tsun huh?"
Dibella smirked playfully, giving the Sybil a wink. "Anyhow, you've done well, Saadia. I'm quite proud of you and Idrasa."
Krest walked away to his quarters. I'll just avoid Dibella. She's a goddess, she shouldn't have to suffer the presence of a worthless person like me.
He was alone in his quarters, sitting on his bed and thinking to himself when the door propped open and Saadia snuck in, closing it behind her.
"More firebrand than you expected?" Saadia blew her nose on a rag.
Krest drew his hand over the circles under his eyes.
Saadia's smile downturned. "Payment, for your work today." She dropped a coin purse in his lap.
He set the gold aside, bowing his chin. "Thank you, Saadia."
"No problem. Goodnight, my friend." Saadia shut the door tight as she departed. Krest shuffled under his sheets, hugging a pillow, and letting himself slip into Vaermina's domain…
A dragon flew in massive winding circles, clutching the wheel of Aurbis, struggling to crack the Lorkhanic creation. It finally broke and millions of ehlnofeic spirits flew out in rejoice towards the heavens.
Then he was laying in some sort of giant blanket. Like a baby inside a crib.
Krest stood up. This place was not Nirn but instead some sort of nursery. There was no moon in the sky for one. The groundcover was all duvet and plush day lilies and pink carnations blooming out of the stitches. Void of shrubbery and scrublands like Tamriel. His insides were hollowing.
Then something else appeared. Something that ceased all meaningless muttering. Dibella.
Crystalline irises, with black dots for pupils, a cruel grin. Krest swallowed and backed away from her. But he blinked and she wrapped her arms around his chest from behind. It felt constrictive, as if the goddess was about to choke the life out of his weakened frame. A strength that was plainly inhuman. The arms like crushing steel around Krest, eliciting hiccups from his diaphragm.
"Hmmm," she purred in a breathy whisper, her eyes veiny and all-consuming. Her grip tightened, making it hard for Krest to breathe. "I'm starving."
Krest cried, feeling pathetic and weak as he tried to pull away and failed.
Her forearms threatened to crack his ribcage. She was dragging her nose over his throat and collarbone, sniffing like a blood-starved lion. "More than enough. Awe," she cooed, her face curling into a smirk. "You want me to feed you?" The way the last two words were said seemed terribly demeaning. "So weak, little kitten." She squeezed him, inhaling in his hair from behind him. Krest's feet lifted off the ground, dangling over the blanketed grounds akin to a hung corpse as she hugged him.
The smirk on her grew, becoming rather creepy. Dibella nuzzled against his neck next, and he shivered. Her tongue, long and thin, came out and licked a vertical, moist strip on the side of his jaw. Krest jerked his head to the side, but he was being held firmly and couldn't move. He squirmed, trying to escape the sensation. Then, spinning him around, Dibella placed her forehead against his, her eyes sadistically mocking him. She cooed soothingly, puckering her lips. She grasped his jaw in a painful grip with her short fingernails, burrowing them into him. Krest moaned agonizingly.
"A good mother always looks after her baby," she crowed as the outer edges of her eyelids drew downward romantically.
Krest whimpered, simpering as a few tears escaped the corners of his view, streaming down his cheeks. He whined in pain when she hugged him tighter, tucking his head beneath her chin until he passed out from lack of air.
"You're mine now, baby boy."
Krest hit the solid floor, agonizing as his skull rang and his eyes pared open. He was alone. The door was locked and there was no sign of anyone being there.
It was just a dream. It means nothing. Don't get your hopes up, he told himself, staring at his palm and sighing in despair. Nobody wants you; nobody needs you.
It was that train of thought that led him to the Nursery, Nordenbjorg's sewer system that following morning. He had fortunately been able to avoid Dibella for the duration of his cleaning duties and slipped out when Saadia dismissed him.
Krest mulled over the dream as the eerie walkway of the underground catacomb passed him by on either side. Frozen corpses embalmed in the ledges in the walls, enchanted Draugr attending to them with oil and offerings. Their glowing blue and red eyes soulless and bright. He progressed through the bowels of the city as his mind spun into a depressive spiral.
Located directly beneath Nordenbjörg, in the sewer-way was a nordic ruin that the Horme had taken refuge in; a pub called the Jagged Chalice. Krest took a seat in the dimly lit area. Fumes of smoke wafted through the air. The environment was of nordic and dwemer make, a counter at the front. In the side room, attendants were ingesting skooma, snorting moon-sugar, joy-snow, and gambling. The dwemeri brass framework glowed with regality, contrasting with the rest of the nordic styled architecture.
Krest opened the net on one of the dwarven interfaces nearby and started searching the inter-webs. He did some research on Dibella. The conflicting accounts arose in the fact the men called her Dibella, and elves named her Y'ffre. It seemed that originally, she'd been forced to side with Lorkhan before joining Akatosh along with Kyne, Tsun, and Stuhn. He logged off and noted that several others were using the additional computers alongside him.
Krest did a double take. The violet-eyed prisoner was alone in a far corner of the room, a tankard of mead beside him.
The shining gold armor he wore glistened brightly inside the darkness. The man didn't seem to care about the stares he was pulling. Not really thinking through what he was doing, Krest stood up and trailed over to the Sun-Prisoner. Upon closer inspection, he realized the mysterious Nord was in his mid-thirties, physically muscular with a salt and pepper colored undercut and a short goatee-beard that melded in with the rest of his sharply profiled visage.
Despite all the mysteriousness, there was a rugged, masculine handsomeness to the brute. Krest hid behind a shade-ridden pole, examining the cat-striped pupils of the man.
A deep scar ran over his throat. His violet eyeballs unnerved Krest immensely, sending shivers down his spine. A barkeep appeared around the corner, a raggedy-looking Nord. "Mister Early-Beard, is it?" The barkeep asked. "I asked my boss as you insisted and I'm afraid you'll have to go to the local brothel if you're looking for girls to please you. We don't offer that service here in the Jagged Chalice."
Early-Beard?
'Early-Beard' rose, rubbing a hand over his crotch. The northerner smiled that creepy smile again, shrugged and stepped off, his body swaggering as he did. What was odd was that a white snake protruded from his tailbone. He'd grown a tail that was a snake somehow.
Krest grabbed the barkeep by the shoulder. "That man you were talking to, what's his name?"
"Who? Mister Early Beard? His full name's Hjalti Early-Beard," the tired looking Nord told him. "My name's Vekel."
Krest glanced over the table that the prisoner had been sitting at and saw a headline on the back of a newspaper.
Wulfharth's Mansion Raided, Sun-Prisoner Spotted!
By Mjoll Svanhildr, 6th of Evening Star, 4E 22
The ancient mansion of Ysmir Wulfharth, one of Skyrim's ancient kings, was broken into and robbed in Hrothgar on the night of the fourth. The odd part is no one since Wulfharth himself has been able to access the mansion due to the blood seal on the door. Though sources say the Sun Prisoner was seen exiting with a bag of gold and other valuables shortly after his escape. Wulfharth's Mansion, said to be where he ruled from. Many believe Wulfharth to be Shor incarnate. So, how would the Sun-Prisoner have gained access? After all, Lorkhan is dead, right? Thus far, the High King in Hrothgar has not yet commented about the situation. - In other news however, Thane Elisif Istlod was found in Hrothgar after her carriage went missing following her testimony against Ulfric.
Krest turned over the newspaper. He had heard the name,Hjalti, before somewhere, he just couldn't remember where.
Krest exited the sewers and saw Hjalti walking through the busy streets comprised of pale bricks and stone, nordic flooring towards the brothel, Dibella's Warmth. Hjalti disappeared into the building and Krest came to a halt on the street.
"No way I'm going in there." Krest clenched his teeth to his lip, blood squirreling out.
"Krest?" He looked around and saw Saadia near the market stalls. She was with Ancano. "What are you doing here? Are you all right?"
"I was in the Jagged Chalice, and I saw the prisoner." Krest nodded with his head toward where Hjalti was now. "I snuck after him, but he entered that brothel."
"Let's tell Dibella. None of us stand a chance in a fight against him," Ancano pointed out. "If that man escapes the city, who knows how long it will take to track him down again. Dibella and Akatosh need to arrest him here on the mortal plane, where he's weaker."
Krest put his hands in his pockets. "His name's Hjalti Early-Beard."
"I swear I've heard that name before." Ancano put his hand on his chin as they started walking towards the temple.
Krest dragged his feet across the floor. "Me too. Anyways, what were you two doing out here?"
Saadia and Ancano blushed. The former opted to speak, "we were just taking a walk."
Bright white structures assaulted their sight as clouds flushed the ground with water that cleaned the city.
"Krest, I'll meet up with you later," Ancano said.
Krest waved goodbye to them and walked through the city and up a tower that had no guards posted on it. Skulking alongside the wall, he sat down, throwing his legs over the side, and enjoying the view of the white-marble countryside. The wonderfully hued lake beneath roiling and splashing as it emptied out into the misty sea. He needed this palate cleanser.
He didn't know how long he sat there, just staring lifelessly into nothing.
I really wish I was dead.
He stood back up, swaying as he left the battlement and tarried down derelict lanes, towards the temple. On his way he passed a group of shady men who eyed him. They pursued him in his depressed stupor down sunset-lit allies. It didn't take long for them to surround him, pushing him back and forth in between hurled threats.
One grabbed him by the hair and covered his mouth, breathing down his neck. Krest tried to move the brute's big, hairy arm but the Nord just tossed it aside like it was nothing. "A lost little lamb, all out here on your own. Bet you got some gold, then Deebo can have you; he likes boys who look like girls."
"If you don't get off me," Krest said, "I'm going to kill you."
The Nord holding Krest was smashed into a side window. His blood staining the glass. His friends thrown aside like ragdolls. Deebo's neck was snapped. Krest rubbed his eyes, he hadn't done anything. A woman turned to him and pulled off her cloak, revealing short gold hair and eyes of a crystal color.
"Obnoxious brat." Dibella gesticulated to the night sky lit by a fiery aurora. She shook her head, a palm plastered to her brow.
Krest stood there, unsure what to say. He looked at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Dibella crossed her arms and clenched her strong jaw. "Saadia said the prisoner was in the brothel, so I went looking for him, but he already left." Dibella squinted around, levitating a few feet off the ground. "Thanks for being useless."
Krest did his best to suppress his pounding heartbeat. "I'm sorry, ma'am."
Dibella landed back down. "Whatever. Akatosh wishes to discuss with you tomorrow at the meeting. I expect you to be there, Krest."
She stalked off; her head held high. He watched her stroll away as he sat down in the corner.
His heart twisted and pounded against his chest. He'd never felt this feeling before.
Dibella…
~ § ó § ò § ~
A/N: So, some clarification. Nordenbjorg is basically a giant version of Solitude if it were made by the Snow Elves like in the forgotten vale with elements of Markarth too. Though it is closer in size to a real city upgraded with steampunk stuff and in the same location as Solitude but bigger cuz my Skyrim is around the size of Kazakhstan with around a million people. Of course, there is no Great War or anything like that in this version of Skyrim.
