Interlude
Loading Screen… "Don't bother, son, there's no way in or out. They bricked us in here, you see? Just get out while you can. But beware the higher levels, that's where they keep the worst of the worst scum on Nirn behind a firewall. No way escaping from there. Failsafe to burn everyone if anything suspicious is triggered. Go downstairs, the lower holding cells are no worse than your average castle dungeon, you can make it out from there." – Xanei Crimons, a prisoner of Old Fort…
~ § ó § ò § ~
And so, in this Talosian Intermezzo, a god became the four-headed serpent. One head at the end, three in the front before becoming a god again. The god of men, once cast out, arose, and returned to Heaven to stand before Akatosh's disciples under a disguise. The totems of Lorkhan replaced with Talos. They knew not that the two were the same. The Stormcrown lied once more, saying he was the Hero. But he lies awaiting the Devil called Konahrik.
"And after the throne of Alinor did finally break at the feet of men, and news of it came to the Dragon Emperor in Cyrodiil, he gathered his captains and spoke to them, saying: 'you have suffered for me to win this throne, and I see how you hate jungle. Let me show you the power of Talos Stormcrown, born of the North, where my breath is long winter. I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine. I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.'"
"Wake up, you're here. Why are you shaking? Are you okay? Wake up. Stand up. There you go. You were dreaming. You're Talos, right?" Talos eyes' peeled open and he saw the Eight Divines gathered around him. Akatosh's big, rolled golds and sweeping beard at the forefront.
I'll have to speak sparingly, lest they recognize my voice. All of the Eight appeared dizzy and disoriented. He looked over and saw Dibella. She'd cut her hair and had changed a lot. Well, she's no longer a naive girl.
"By Anu, is it me or do you all feel like you have headaches?" Tsun, who had shaved his head and grown a full beard, enunciated. "I feel like I'm forgetting something, I just can't remember what."
So, it worked. Excellent. They're clueless to Reman's and Cuhlecain's zero-summing. Clueless to all but the vaguest details of my conquests, which means they'll buy into that Divine fairytale hopefully and so long as the spell lasts, they won't know my true identity. I'll have to work diligently to amaranth in the meantime. But it will take time. A long time. I'll have to keep my head down until then. Hence why he needed the dragon blood. He became Dragonborn in order to absorb the souls of hundreds of Dragons on Tamriel when he achieved apotheosis, helping him mantle his old position as a god but also giving the Divines a case of confused amnesia.
"Welcome to the Pantheon, Talos!" Kynareth pulled him up by hand. "You are the Ninth Divine now. Wow, my mind feels cooked right now. You'll have to excuse our lack of decorum."
Akatosh smiled and gave Talos a knowing glance. I'll have to act different. Which means I can't marry Kynareth again. I'll marry Dibella, that'll throw him off my case. Dibella, however, was holding hands with Julianos who appeared to be a Sinistral Elf.
"What are you saying?" Dibella shook her head. "Have you all lost it? He's been the Ninth Divine since nearly year one hundred of the Third Era, hasn't he?"
The Agent brought me the Mantella, thankfully.
Talos' eyes expanded. He nodded so that everyone could see him. "Yes, she's right."
"I remember breaking up with Ebonarm and courting Julianos, but something is fuzzy in between," Dibella went on.
"What year is it?" The burly, tanned Stendarr stroked his beard. His honey-hazel eyes roamed over Dibella with a lust that Talos had only seen in himself. But the god of 'mercy', as he had changed, averted his gaze. He chose the form of an Imperial.
I can't believe it was you who once captured and held Mara for ransom.
You've all become weak. Stuhn, Tsun. You were once mighty warriors worthy of calling yourself gods of men. Look at you now, too weak to even take the woman you desire. Traitors, cowards. He reminisced back to when he created Mundus; he had made it to entrap the only ones powerful enough to defeat him, make them mortal and execute them so he could rise and become the ultimate Divine. Overthrow Sithis and Anu. You'd have all of us believing elves were the only true form of life otherwise. That men should strive to walk the ways of the old mer once more. His mind churned, thumped, and beat with every thought reverberating. Kynareth had once been the crone of storm. Now, she'd become the warrioress of nature. Stendarr, once a powerful, brash god of ransom now a repented and feeble sage of mercy. Tsun, who'd once stood for perseverance and died in Adamantine, now was a god of work, commerce, and trade.
WEAKLINGS! ALL OF YOU! Talos was disgusted. What vile leprosy diseased them? AKATOSH. HE'D MADE THEM WEAK. His eye twitched.
Talos squeezed and deeply massaged his temples and the bone underneath, skin rubbing against his calloused fingers.
"Third Era, four-hundred and seventeen." Dibella winked at Stendarr. "That Heroine of Daggerfall, Gemile Dulac has caused quite a ruckus down in High Rock," said Dibella.
"Congratulations on your accomplishments, Talos. I'm sure you'll make a fine addition to the Pantheon." Akatosh clapped him on the shoulder, eliciting a flinch from Talos.
Talos watched the Hearth gods, once his wives, Mara, Kyne, and Dibella, and he felt his jaw tighten. Once he'd forced the trio to honor him as their husband in front of their entire village of Drakefell in ancient Keizaal. They each wove bridal wreaths together according to Nordic custom and sung praises to him on his throne. Though, in retrospect, none of them had their hearts in it, especially not Mara.
Kynareth, Mara, and Dibella; Phynaster, Morwha, and Y'ffre. Mother Nature, Nirni, and the Queen of Heaven.
That night Talos investigated the mirror of his appointed washroom. A sauna, bathtub, and cream-coloured tiles made up the interior. He had restored his old form as Lorkhan, a true Nord. A muscled physique and tall, unlike his quarter-elven form as Tiber Septim. He was hairy and there was a blackened hole where his heart should be. Talos drew his fingers in a circle over it and sighed. The muscled body of Pelinal, unyielding spirit of Wulfharth, cunning mind of Arctus, face and shimmering violets of Hjalti. Talos Lorkhan.
A wine-knife laid on the island. He picked it up and drew an incision over his forearm to check his blood.
The Devil, a young elf and he ate an apple-shaped heart, each biting one side.
The burning eyes of Konahrik haunted his dreams for many nights until one day, years later, he found himself in the dining chambers of the Palace of the Pantheon. Golden walled with high ceilings, hanging with crystal chandeliers, red-velvet rugs draped on the marble flooring, and fancy portraits. A large white table in the center with thrones lining the length on each side. Light seamed in from the cosmos outside and a fine assortment of divine foods rested on the countertop. Soups and soufflés, the freshest baked manna bread, the finest wines, most succulent meats, and crispest vegetables. He'd begun a courtship with Kynareth, and she was sitting close by, drinking chai, and reading a book.
Dibella was there too, though now she was courting a man named Necron Springseed. Talos was too tired to judge. He nodded at Kynareth, and she lowered her gaze. "I'm not sure how I feel about this edition," she said. "This person is a hypocrite; how noble of him to condemn chains with one hand while fastening them with the other."
Talos snorted. "What's his name?"
His musings were extinguished when the smell of heresy like burnt sulfur came in waves from Dibella's direction. "Elves and men are brothers and sisters and should not war."
Talos skin now felt hot as molting sulphur. That woman, as nature has created her, is man's enemy.
Necron was bobbing his head along. "I totally agree."
Talos had almost sworn by Sithis in his rage, but he no longer cared for his father. I am superior in every way.
Akatosh stumbled in, carrying a bundle of scrolls underneath his armpit, his wife Mara alongside him.
Dibella's crystals flickered towards Arkay who whistled, "remember when emperor mudcrabs and dreughs ruled the world. Hehe. Remember? After that kalpa I was a shopkeeper? That continent called Lyg… on the kalpa before this one but after the final Knev one."
Akatosh pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyelids drawn shut. "By Anu." He set the scrolls down on the surface of the table and rolled them open. "Dibella, I have an important proposition for you."
Dibella poured herself some salad and chewed on it with a fork. "I'm listening. If it's about finding one good man, save it. I like my harem of Breton boys."
"No, it's about a prophecy I'm writing. About my youngest child who will defeat the Betrayer." Akatosh wiped his nose.
The Betrayer? Talos narrowed his eyes free of lashes.
Dibella swallowed her vegetables, slicing cucumber and strawberry. "Uhh… so, another Dragonborn? What's this one like – the fifth?"
"Yes, the final one. The last dragon. I wanted to enquire if this mortal could be someone endowed to your service in the Fourth Era?" Akatosh laid out the maps, Skyrim was lain bare.
"Alright." She shrugged nonchalantly. "If it's a boy…"
"By Anu. Behave yourself at least when you're around me, sister."
"Someone's gotta lighten the mood." She finished her salad and uncorked a bottle of mead with her enclosed fist.
"Oh, a jest," Akatosh snickered, "merely a joke."
Dibella's lips and brows twitched.
"A joke, right?" Akatosh's face fell. "…right…"
Dibella didn't respond, traipsing off.
Talos put his finger on his lower lip, staring off into the distance. Intriguing…
Nearly two decades passed and rumors came and went like wind inside a flute. Talos watched from the Heavens as a mortal known as Thase Eldrara the Nerevarine fulfilled his role in a prophecy and challenged Dagoth Ur. Hmm, thought Talos, conjuring an idea. With no one watching he assumed the form of an aged Imperial and swooped down to Morrowind. If the prophecies remained true, this individual would destroy his discarded heart and kill the Tribunal he so loathed. Though I might have need of it and molding this poor fool could prove to be a valuable asset.
A gaseous and shady pub choked his vision and red lines assaulted him. There he was, the mortal reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar, Bride to Azura, approaching he the trickster. "Well met, outlander. What is it? Hello. They call me Wulf. What brings you to Ghostgate?" The process of incarnation and manifestation inside the mortal form had weakened him greatly, as was the price for any Divine who entered the limitations of his plane. Only Anu was all powerful. Not once I kill Him and become the new God.
"Wulf?" The Nerevarine inquired calmly.
"Wulf. That's me."
"Ghostgate?" The Nerevarine queried.
"This is helluva place. Why are you here?" Talos asked.
"I am the Nerevarine, and I go to confront Dagoth Ur in his citadel."
"What a piece of luck! Look. I'm an old Legion veteran, as old as the poor old Emperor, bless his soul. I'm too old for campaigning. I came this far to look at hell. But I can't go any farther than this. I'd take it kindly if you'd carry this old lucky coin with you when you go to Dagoth Ur. Sort of a token of the tough young hero I used to be. Would you do that for an old man?" Talos hid his smirk and charmed the random coin in his back pocket, holding it up to the Hero of Morrowind.
"I'm sorry, but my mother told me never to accept gifts from strangers." The Nerevarine frowned.
Damn it, Talos thought.
"You're a suspicious sort. But maybe I can't blame you. Worried about a request from a strange old man in a strange place like this. Well, I won't press you. But I would sure be grateful for the favor, if you could see your way to changing your mind."
The Nerevarine tapered his eyelids to slits at Talos and turned away to face his destiny. Talos pocketed the coin and left, his veins bubbling. He flew to High Rock to vent his frustrations, flying over his old home of Alcaire and Starfall.
"Once tyrants gain immortality, we all lose. There are no heroes in war." Tom spat at his feet as Talos handed him a letter. He looked up and saw wyverns farming cattle on mountaintops, built flats, sipping tea.
"Come join us, gruth." One of the bipedal lizards with wings for arms motioned to him. "We are not real Dragons, merely imitators. You need not fear us."
Talos sat down in the stone carved chairs as one of the smaller fake drakes tilled the ground.
"Honey?" Offered Skakmat as the more of the beasts flew overhead. Wyvern eggs sat in the corner in big hay-made nests and Jill cries echoed through the sky.
Pseudodragons. Nothing compared to the real Dovah of old. Pink clouds exploded and the smell of perfume plunged into his nostrils.
Talos turned to leave but Skakmat whispered something, "oh, one last thing, Hero of Men inside the Devil's Den…" Talos looked at the greenish two-legged dragon as the thing grinned. "Konahrik says… hello."
Seven years passed by and Talos sat at his edge of the throne room of Aetherius. He was penning the document of his listed Shezarrines, since the one he gave to Tom was incomplete as his plans had not been finalized seven years ago. He took a lengthy gulp of white wine. Talos swirled the composite nib in an ebony glazed bowl of water to dissolve the ink away. A gilt-edged leather-bound booklet was ajar on his fore view. A drawing of a four faced snake sketched in the corner.
L – Shor Sep
O – Pelinal Whitestrake
R – Ysmir Wulfharth
K – Zurin Arctus
H – Hjalti Early-Beard
A – Talos Stormcrown
N – Tzahal Sufyani
Hmm, once I ascend and kill Anu and become the Godhead, I can erase the Aedra and remake this world as mine own. As I once sought. Talos stroked his goatee. I will never need to incarnate as a bloody Shezarrine again. I'm so much weaker and disjointed when I'm not whole. It's so much better just being one person.
Akatosh flew in shapeshifting from a golden dragon into an elven man or mannish elf, removing his ornate mask. Talos was wondering whether Konahrik was actually real or just a figment of his imagination. Eras had transpired and no such man had revealed himself outside his nightmares.
Akatosh's bearded expression was tired, his eyelids droopy. Several others ran at him, hurling questions.
"What happened? Did you stop the crisis?" Mara hugged him tightly and the Dragon god returned the gesture, nuzzling his head over the Bosmeri-Imperial woman's shawl.
"Mmm, you're so warm, my love." Akatosh kissed her head.
Talos hated Akatosh.
"Magnus has returned to the light and Martin's here. The Blades have been warned of the coming of the Last Dragonborn and a group who call themselves the Thalmor have confirmed my worst fears. Though on a more positive note, the Thalmor have been lessening worship and thus power of the Betrayer." Akatosh's golden gaze held on Talos for a fraction of a second.
The Thalmor… will need to investigate.
Martin Septim materialized next to Akatosh in his spirit form, fit for Aetherius. Akatosh embraced the Imperial in a hug.
Martin stained the Dragon god's robes with tears. "I'm sorry, Father."
Akatosh stroked the young man's back. "I know, I know. It's alright. You're safe now. No one will hurt you here, my son."
Talos shook his head. This is my descendent? What a disappointment.
"The wheel weaves as the wheel wills," said Akatosh. "Or… was it the reverse?"
In his dreams, a Redguard woman with sapphire blue eyes and a turban, rode a white horse down a hill, a flaming sword in hand right at him…
Years crawled ever on like raindrops racing down a window. Talos and Kynareth naturally separated, having grown too different in the time between. He could feel the area beneath his eye-sockets pulse with pain, strange as it was for a being of his caliber. Manifestos, pen marked scrolls, and more. He'd spent years studying tomes on the genesis of creation and boundaries of the observable universe, and the Anui-El Rosencrantz Apex; a point in space-time that was half inside and outside Aurbis, the knowable universe that could theoretically take him to Anu, God Himself. Sleepless nights eroded his mind day by day and as he thought he grew closer to the answer, it all crumbled away under him.
All of this is easier thought than done. I need a break.
He flew down to Nirn. Past the cozy cottages of Bruma and the gloomy Chorrol and Sancre Tor. Large poll-shaped mushrooms and sun-soaked countryside of the grassland and forested province. The Imperial City came into view, Ayleid styled colonnades and massive crenellated cranes transporting cargos, towering buildings over bricked alleyways and industrialized town squares. Nature reserves of jungle on the outskirts towards the south alongside undercrofts of lava near the Reman Savanna. Tamriel's ebony ore veins were drying up, he could sense it.
If I don't mantle Anu soon, my end will draw near.
The Imperial City now, from the shore, it was difficult to distinguish where the city ended and the Palace began, as both rose together from the lake's islands in a gleaming expanse of gold. Entire districts rested atop gemmed crossings linking the islands, while gondolas and river-ships glided through the flooded lower quarters. Moth-priests passed by, shrouded in a haze of ancestral spirits; House Guards at intersections with long daikatanas, their blades adorned with ribbons and dragon-crested flags; and newly arrived Western legionnaires struggled in the thick, humid air. The river mouth ran red with the tinmi soil of the shore, where small, water dragons soaked their rusted hides. Across the lake, the Imperial City blended into the villages along the southern red river and its ancient Akaviri ruins.
Talos walked by the market as flutes played around him under silk canopies. The All-Saints inn, where mages juggled fireballs. A woman was making tea from the canticle trees near a decorated textile while elven cultists offered offerings to a hidden shrine of the Devil.
He landed in front of Anthos Iophon's Praetorian Academy.
Narrow dark-wooded halls with alcoves, candelabra lit to the side. A few boys and girls, all of them with wires in their skulls and arms passed by, rather silently for the most part. A great chandelier hung over an oval table behind a stage where a speech was being held. Praetorians aged thirteen and up were seated there. Several councilors of the Elder Council were in attendance behind the podium in the front. Dwemer automatons and ballistae set up too.
A pale-skinned woman stood up to the speech-magnifier. She wore Thalmor robes and had long blond hair and golden eyes. "Thank you for attending young servants of the Empire. I am Lady Arannelya, Leader of the Thalmor and Aldmeri Dominion. I am accompanied by High Chancellor Ocato Jibanithril, Councilors Elenwen Saururiil, Susanne Dubois, Titus Mede, and my assistant, Ancano Charmaine. I offer my gratitude to your supervisor, Miss Dea Xanthippe for this opportunity."
Mede, descendent of Medea and Cuhlecain. Had I not stolen the Dragonblood from your forefather, your lineage would've been blessed with it instead of the Septims. Talos did a double take at the Imperial.
"We have a new task for you Praetorians. Travel through this country and hand out the pamphlets provided to settlements where Talos worship is widespread. Help us educate the people of Cyrodiil of the fallacies of this god and his wrongdoings in order for us to create a better republic for Tamriel where all parties are represented."
Then the Matriarch of Alinor spoke in the tongue of the old mer, so only the Altmer understood her. But Talos having studied his languages, comprehended well enough. "We must kill this vile retch and remove him from the mythic, if we wish to destroy the towers and ascend this mortal plane, my elven brethren. Return to our ways."
Talos blinked.
"Anyways, you're all dismissed." Arannelya waved them off. They formed a procession to leave.
More years trickled out the hourglass of time. Dibella had gone through relationships with Sanguine and Stendarr in the last decade and now she was helping him with his studies in his room, having come from her plane of Barbelo. Though she knew not where his knowledge would be allocated.
Dibella put down the fountain pen near the drywall. "So, you're trying to reach Anu the All-Maker and think the Anui-El is the way there. But you'd need to break through Sithis to get outside Aurbis." She pointed at the map he'd drawn out earlier. "Why are you trying to reach Anu?"
There is no way anyone can be all powerful and all good. If Anu is indeed as loving as they say, then He'll be weak enough to kill.
Talos pointed at the Anui-El Apex again. Dibella swept aside a tome and it clashed with the carpeted flooring. He craned his neck like an origami bird, picking up the book with his hand shaped hook
"Right, you want a way there. I know, I know." She threw her hands in the air and paced back and forth. "Listen, I don't know what to tell you."
A Breton boy hopped in just then. Frail, innocent eyes, and a gushing look on his childish face. "Hello Mrs. Dibella. Your wine, as requested."
Dibella ruffled the young man's hair and took the bottle, frustration subsiding from her features. "Thank you, Aln."
Aln Vaillant, a Breton boy not even twenty.
"By Anu, why are Bretons so bloody cute." Dibella licked her lips.
She removed the cap of the bottle. Thoughts he'd rather ignore resurfaced, and he moved over to Dibella, accidently bumping into her. Wine spilled on the end of the book.
Dibella bit her lip, and she grabbed Talos by the collar, tossing him onto the bed.
Dibella rode him intensely, grabbing his chest and once they'd finished making love, she slept by his side for the night. Her warmth was unmatched.
In his dream, Talos glared at a burning bush on a scorching desert highway on the dunes of Hammerfell. Prophecy after another woven into each other becoming a tapestry. Structures with water and spice being transported by airship. The Redguard woman on her horse was racing at him again.
He thought he heard the bush speak? "Did you think humans and elves were so different? They are both My people, and both come from the same stock. Aldmeris is Atmora."
Aldmeris, Aldmora, Altmora, Atmora. Earth beneath stone beneath ice. A great stillness arose here as deadly, monstrous ten-legged spiders called Helangeri ran at him. Talos ran in the opposite direction. A bungaroo, bunny, kangaroo hybrid, hopped by as he collapsed onto his knees, panting. The third moon eclipsed and disappeared from the sky forever. He swum across the field of space next, celestial sapients dancing on either side of the Anui-El Bridge as he gazed at a flicker of light shining on the other side.
Is that Anu?
"You disguise your tyranny as heroism," the Light declared. "There shall be no hostility except against those who practice tyranny or oppression."
~ § ó § ò § ~
A/N: Just one more chapter from Talos pov. Please leave a review or your thoughts and concerns. I do want to address several lines were quoted from outside game sources in this chapter and that The Imperial City's description was inspired by the description of the city in Morrowind.