"Thwarting the Daedra: Mehrunes Dagon
by Flaminius Auctor
A treatise on how to identify and destroy Daedric cults
Even in peaceful times, Daedric Princes doggedly prod at Tamriel, building power and working toward their vile goals. Now, as war erupts across the provinces, it is certain they've doubled their malevolent efforts, and every citizen must be on the lookout for evidence of Daedric activities. As Cyrodiil's Province General for the Fighters Guild, I take my responsibility to educate and protect seriously. Knowledge, which I offer you here, is a mighty weapon—a population that knows what to look for can stop a cult before it manages any large-scale atrocities.
Mehrunes Dagon is a particularly nasty character among the gallery of horrors from Oblivion. He revels in destruction on a grand scale, from deaths caused by floods or earthquakes to mass murders, and enjoys making a show of any influence he can exert on Nirn. His penchant for flagrant displays of power makes it no surprise that his cults draw more membership than those of the less conspicuous Princes.
What can a regular citizen do, though, in the face of such evil? More than you might think! Everyone can learn to recognize the early signs that a cult might be nearby. Dismantling a cult before it grows to an appreciable size is the most effective way to stamp out Daedric influence and prevent massive summonings, wanton destruction, and other disasters from coming to fruition. This guide will help you recognize the stirrings of Daedric cults, especially those of Mehrunes Dagon:
First, be aware of your neighbors. Watch for unexplained changes in their routines or behavior, strange flashing lights in their fields or homes late at night, eerie chanting, and disappearances of farm animals (or, worse, other neighbors). These can all be signs of a budding cult. Be wary of strangers in town who take special interest in outcasts, criminals, or unruly teenagers—all of these are common recruitment targets.
Cults of Mehrunes Dagon have some unique characteristics. We in the Fighters Guild have identified the end of Sun's Dusk as a particularly active time for these organizations. If a cult of Dagon operates in your area, you may notice changes in your environment as they attempt to incite disasters—more rain, no rain, or unusual tremors in the ground can all be signs. Dagon cultists also exhibit a sick fascination with setting buildings, animals, and people ablaze and often bear the symbol of a fiery, rising sun.
If you suspect someone you know of cult involvement, proceed with caution. Even someone close to you can be corrupted, and it is difficult to remove the black roots of Daedric filth once they take hold. Do not hesitate to report your suspicions—if they can be reached early enough, it may be possible to reverse the influence of the cult. For your own safety, do not act alone or attempt to confront a possible cult member. Even a once-trustworthy friend involved with a cult may mean you harm. Report immediately to the Fighters Guild, where professionals can assist you!
Armed with this knowledge, you can aid all of Tamriel in preventing Daedric cults from growing and spreading. Pass this book along to a friend or neighbor and we will stop the Daedric threat together."
Cura failed to understand. "Why? Why would you follow Mehrunes Dagon?"
"For the very simple purpose of tearing down this false empire!" Vonos proclaimed. "We've destroyed the Septim Dynasty, yes. But enter Tidus Mede. And Tidus Mede II. It just goes on, and on, and on. Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps arrogant man was never entitled to rule this world? To think they've been entitled for having been branded the blood of the Dragon, save for the Mede dynasty."
Cura took offense on the Emperor's behalf. She stood front and center in the face of his hypocrisy and did not hesitate to call it out. "Just like how Mankar Camoran and your entire fetid organization claims rulership from Mehrunes Dagon? I'd take Akatosh's blessing over his, thank you very much."
"And this is why you will never understand." Vonos shook his head. "The Aedra, with that filthy Lorkhan, corrupted this world! In their stubborn arrogance, they misshaped this world into something Magnus and his children abhorred! Do not tell me you are blind to the wanton, needless suffering in this world!"
"Yes, suffering you and people like you cause." Cura spat. She gestured towards the macabre altar. "Those corpses there, right there. Were they not people too, with hopes and dreams of their own? Did they deserve to be killed for your sick, putrid delusions of grandeur?" each word that emerged from Cura's throat was dry and spurned. She'd seen this sort of thing before; over and over again. It was demented. It was ugly. She just wanted it to stop. The utter barbarism.
"When the Aedra mistakenly formed this crude world, Auri-El and Trinimac turned to Lorkhan in rage and tore out his heart. That is your Akatosh!" Vonos pointed at Cura and laughed hysterically. "You are the very picture of him! A being comprised of Mer, Man, and Dragon! Vile! Disgusting! Every step you take is blasphemy! Every Shout you use an insult! You, Dragonborn, are the greatest of mistakes! You cannot find harmony in this world, because there is none! The world is merely a playground for the divine - whose toy are you, Dragonborn? Stendarr's? The apologist of men? Akatosh, the true two-faced god?"
Cura bit her lip as she tried to contain her anger.
Vonos stared darkly at the Dragonborn. He held out his arms triumphantly. "I've won, Dragonborn. You cannot even hope to stop me! You and your pathetic Vigil... such arrogance you've espoused over the centuries... Do you really think to stand against the Daedra?" Vonos reached a hand into his pocket and felt for the handle of a dagger he'd saved. Once he felt it, a devilish expression glistened in his eye. With the waters of Oblivion... he thought to himself as he caressed it gently.
"With every breath I take."
"By the time this night is over, you will breathe no more." Vonos proclaimed as he removed his touch from the hilt and raised his hands. He summoned two powerful streams of lightning and pressured Cura with them.
The Dragonborn guarded quickly, raising Spellbreaker to block the deadly stream. The energy was absorbed into the ward and spat and crackled with beads of light under the strain.
"Spellbreaker... Peryite's pièce de resistance. Your hypocrisy knows no bounds, Vigilant. You think to defy the dark gods, and yet you carry their own artifacts." Vonos mocked. "You are not so different from us... if only I'd been the one to find you in the frozen tundra as an infant... it all could have been more convenient."
"Shut up!"
Cura parted the lightning arch with a parrying bash and sent the energy back at Vonos.
Once the magic made contact, Vonos braced for impact. The blast was overwhelming, and brought him down, heaving on his knees.
He went down surprisingly easy for a cult leader, Cura found. Though, he defied his collapse and pulled himself back up and summoned a Fire Storm between his hands.
"FUS!" with her voice, Cura knocked the frail Dark Elf down, causing him to lose the spell.
With a body ravaged by illness, Vonos knew his time was growing short and the window of opportunity was closing fast.
Keeper Carcette looked behind Cura and walked with her as she approached the altar.
"Good job, Cura." Keeper Carcette praised her. She took a few steps forward and thrust her index finger in the Daedra-worshipping warlock's direction and glared her way. "Now, strike him down!"
Cura turned to the Keeper. "No, you should do the honours, Keeper Carcette. You've been opposing them for a long time. You should get the satisfaction of victory." Considering how much Carcette worked against the Daedra-worshippers, it would only be natural that she should be the one to land the last hit.
The Keeper stared at Vonos, and then at Cura. She shook her head. "You brought us this far, Cura. I give you this honour. Make me proud!"
Cura pursed her lips. "Keeper, I'm giving you this."
Vonos seemed to grow weary. And the sounds of a rumbling explosion further down the annals alarmed him. It seemed he had little choice.
"Die, then!" he scrambled to his feet and lunged at Cura with his dagger.
Cura instinctively brought her mace down and tore his head from his shoulders as his dagger pierced her collarbone. However, Vonos' attack met its mark in Cura's throat, just inches above her left collarbone and at the base of her neck.
As soon as the knife pocketed its foul blade in her flesh, Cura felt a sharp sting of corruption enter her body, blood and soul.
Vonos' body sagged and dropped to the floor, and Cura grabbed her neck reflexively. A stinging pain began to spread through her body from the mouth of the wound. It was sharp and grating on her nerves, unlike anything she'd ever felt before.
She was poisoned!
Cura stumbled backwards clumsily and gasped in horror as the abandoned Oblivion Gate began to spark and swirl. Vonos' blood slithered along the floor and crept into the crevice below the gate, causing an explosion of fire and ignited brimstone to burn the Liminal Barrier. The Great Welkynd stone in Cura's pouch began to glow brighter and brighter, shining through the fabric, lending its power to the portal.
Cura gasped as she witnessed the spectacle. "No...! It was supposed to stay closed! What..."
A sudden, powerful blunt whack came down on her left temple and the Dragonborn collapsed to the floor.
Keeper Carcette stood above her with her Warhammer gripped in one hand, slung over her shoulder. "Tsk. Tsk. So easy. So gullible."
Cura's heart wrenched in her chest. "Wh-what..."
"That venom coursing through you was blessed by Lord Dagon in Mankar Camoran's hands, designed to kill Martin Septim... in it lies his hatred and blasphemy against Akatosh himself. You have a few moments left, I'd wager." Keeper Carcette sung mockingly. "A shame this will be the last thing you see... for you, that is."
"You're... you're not... hnnng!" Cura began to violently hack up blood from her lower throat. "...huff... You're n-not Keeper Carcette..." It was as if her entire body was growing stiff. This was no natural venom.
The Keeper propped down her Warhammer, pushing its head onto the floor and leaning on its handle as the portal began to grow behind her. "No... I'm not. Nor would I ever want to be. This disguise has served its purpose, as have you."
The struggling Dragonborn trembled in pain as she turned her face to the false Keeper in disbelief. She began to replay every conversation they'd had since the Hall, but her memory failed her due to the consuming pain.
Fuelled by a sudden burst of hatred, Cura attempted to pull herself back up.
The false Keeper quickly scraped her hammer off the floor and brought it down with a vicious blow on the exhausted Dragonborn, and Cura fell like a Baby Horker.
"Your group was easy to infiltrate. Our members posed as new recruits and ate and drank with you all for the past month." the false Keeper could not contain her amusement and a chuckle betrayed her. "How easy it was for one of our members to forge a message from Stendarr's Beacon to draw Carcette there, and for I to assume her position and for another to take my place in the cell downstairs..."
She paced the floor a few steps in either direction. "We are the Mythic Dawn. What did you think, that we'd go down easily? No. It's not our way."
Cura writhed in horrific agony as the toxins seemingly charred her blood black as it flaked on the stone floor. She gargled and chokes and fidgeted as air escaped her.
"If only Jauffre would have been so careless. We could have finished Martin Septim way back then." the false Carcette looked at the opening portal. "Thank you, for making it so much easier for us. Really."
Truly, she'd been had. There were red flags before, but she'd failed to notice them, what with her mind so narrowly focused on the singular goal of slaying Vonos.
Cura scraped the stone tiles with her fingertips as she tried once more to return to her feet. It was futile.
Her eyes returned to the dagger on the floor. The blood on it was crusting and evaporating into black specks. A clear sign to what was happening within her veins.
"W...why..." was all she could choke out of her constricted throat.
The false Carcette turned her back to the withering Dragonborn. "Why? This Empire and all its problems needs to be ripped out, root and stem. It's long overdue. Lord Mehrunes Dagon will accomplish such, starting with the domination of Skyrim. We will undo Akatosh's false legacy."
"And this is why you are the 'Last' Dragonborn." the bitch added in with a smirk. "Can't have you breeding more of you, can we?"
Cura, though in incredulous agony, managed again to pull herself up to her knees, and was slowly rising, but was put down with another blunt blow to the head.
She tried to hold on. The world was growing colder, darker. Blood was evaporating from her neck wound in smoke.
Cura saw the portal opening, increment by increment.
"No... I've... failed..."
She extended a weak, shaking hand towards the Oblivion door, before she could hold it no longer.
Her strength had finally given up.
Every nerve went numb, every muscle grew heavy, and her vision blackened. A lone tear streaked down her left cheek as she dropped into the shade.
The false Keeper nodded and spun around to watch the portal.
"NO! CURA!" Vilja was the first to cry out as the group entered the fray.
They gasped in a collective burst of disbelief as they saw the opening portal, the Keeper, and the dead Vonos and Cura laying on the floor like a lump.
"The Dragonborn is dead!" the false Carcette proclaimed to the allies with a voice laced with perverse jubilation. She threw up her arms.
It didn't matter now. Whatever the group did, they could not stop what was set in motion.
The ultimate betrayal.
"No, no! Please! You can't be dead! You just can't!" Vilja wailed with great dolor as she futilely called out to her new friend.
Cura did not respond. She didn't even twitch.
Lucien fell to his knees and began to weep. "Oh, Candle! No... this can't be happening! It has to be lie!"
Irbrand Bienne observed the portal regretfully. "We're too late..."
The false Carcette chuckled and revealed her true face; the Dunmer Priestess of Dagon, Enakain. "It was by Master Vonos' design. A stroke of pure genius. He knew that if we could imitate the Keeper and the other Vigilants, it would be no problem swaying the Dragonborn. Thank you all for your help, though. You made my job easier."
Inigo was near to choking on his anger. The blue Khajiit heaved and huffed as the fire burnt him from within. "She... she was not just the Dragonborn... she was our friend..." a sob escaped his throat and then the cat roared like a lion. "SHE WAS MY FRIEEEEND!" wrathful tears spilled from his eye sockets as the cat-man rushed forward, swinging his sword with the fury of a god.
His blows were parried and he was butted backwards.
Enakain tossed the clumsy Warhammer to the side and struck Inigo with two charged Lightning bolts. The Khajiit slid backwards some more and growled with righteous fury as he braved the charge.
Lucien angrily joined his cat friend and cast a Greater Ward in front of him to guard him from the bolts while Inigo scooped up Cura's Spellbreaker.
Holding up the shield, Inigo freed Lucien from the ward so he could focus on barraging the witch with rage-fuelled Ice Storms as Inigo struck with swords. "Take this, you disgusting bitch!" Lucien cried as he launched Ice Storm after Ice Storm, causing the wicked woman's body to grow colder and lock up at the knees. Her feet became planted to the ground by the cold.
Enakain continued to bombard them with spells of Firebolt and Elemental Bolts and managed to wrest her legs free of the frost and stepped backwards. She glanced over her wicked shoulder to the portal, where a pair of dark, dim eyes revealed themselves high up behind the magickal waves of energy.
A malignant grin stretched across the dark Priestess' face and she declared. "Dagon is coming! On your knees, all of you!"
She charged dual Lightning Bolts and focused them on Inigo, who was fast approaching.
Inigo braved the spells with Spellbreaker and drove his ebony sword into her gullet.
During the combat,Vilja, assisted Irbrand, grabbed Cura's lifeless body and dragged it out of the area with running tears as the ceiling stones began to shake and collapse in response to the portal opening.
Enakain gasped and pulled backwards. Her throat was bubbling with blood and her voice choked on the viscus fluid. "Rebellious infidels! Mehrunes Dagon is coming, and he will set this land to ruin!"
Inigo's eyes flared.
Set the land to ruin.
Could this have been what Langley was talking about?
Was Mehrunes Dagon the Doom Strider?
"I've had just about all I'm going to take from you, you psychotic cow!" Lucien roared as he drove his sword down into the top of her head, cleaving it open and hearing the shrill song of pain.
He wanted her to suffer for what she did.
Enakain's symphony of anguish filled the air, drowned out quickly by a plummeting stone from the ceiling, which silenced the song of pain.
Inigo and Lucien joined Vilja, Irbrand and the true Vigilants in the caverns and they fled as the temple came down around them.
The path was narrow and dust rained down with stones, but the group managed to successfully escape the winding tunnels.
Once they made it outside to catch their breath, a great tremor shook the landscape as the mountain gave way for the form of a massive red horned giant with four arms.
"Tamriel shall quiver and burn under my step!" the beast proclaimed, raising his weapons to the heavens as he made the peak into his footstool.
The Vigilants and Cura's friends trembled as they beheld the sight of the dark god before them, who towered over the mountain.
Inigo held Cura's empty shell in his arms and felt the cold air sting his eyes. He looked at the face of his friend, warped by pain and anguish and felt his heart being constrained within his ribcage.
Lucien whimpered at the sight of the red giant. "That... that's Mehrunes Dagon... oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad."
"And the Dragonborn is dead..." Irbrand said as the weight of the world pushed him to his knees. With trembling hands he cupped the horn of Stendarr. "Stend-Stendarr... have mercy upon us..."
The Daedric Prince glared downwards to the crowd below. "Kneel before me and praise my name, feeble mortals, or you shall be the first I crush."
"Eat garbage, you ugly bastard!" Vilja spat and flashed the middle finger in his direction.
"Vilja!" Lucien wavered. "That's Mehrunes Dagon you're talking to!"
"I don't care!" Vilja snapped back, eyes brimming with tears. "Our friend died and it's all his fault! He can go to hell!" All manners and courtesies were out the window. She wanted Dagon to know exactly what she thought of him.
Mehrunes Dagon was unimpressed by her emotional outbursts and laid a powerful hand on the mountain slope above. "You would ally yourself with the Wyrm even now? Very well; join her in death!" with a mighty shove, he dragged a large chunk of the mountain off and dropped it towards the group below.
They collectively gasped and averted their gazes as boulders larger than Mammoths thundered to the ground towards them.
Miraculously, a golden barrier formed around the group as an angelic woman in blue, hooded robes shielded them all with her luminous wings. "Her body shall not be vandalized! I decree it!" the goddess proclaimed.
Lucien gazed the shining Dawnbreaker and glanced at the woman, and quickly surmised her to be the Daedric Prince Meridia.
She looked at the group and gestured away with her face, telling them to leave quickly. "Protect her body at all costs. This is not the end." Meridia spoke telepathically to Inigo, who cradled Cura's body.
With a nod of understanding and quick reflexes, Inigo Fast Travelled the group out of there.
"MERIDIA! WHAT IS THIS?!" Mehrunes roared at her before she vanished into the light. All who stood before him were gone, and the furious Daedra was left defied on the mountain slopes.
Mehrunes roared angrily at their escape and cursed Meridia as he destroyed another piece of mountain with one of his battleaxes in a tantrum before stamping his feet down and thundering down the slope.
"I WILL DESTROY ALL OF LORKHAN'S PITIFUL THINGS!" he roared as he smashed through more and more of the mountain. He would take his battle to the west soon enough.
Visions filled Cura's spiritual mind. She looked down and saw both of her arms. The Dwarven Metal Arm seemed to have followed her into this state, but it was bound to her, so it made sense. She still had Spellbreaker and Dawnbreaker, and Auriel's Bow mounted upon her back. Everything was a fog around her, and she wandered for some distance until she found what looked like an open Hall of the Vigilant.
Vigilant Moric Sidrey and Celann greeted her. Vigilant Bruna stood by the Shrine of Stendarr, waving to her partner in the field beckoning her to come over.
With slight concern, Cura gingerly approached the three of them, when a hand grabbed her shoulder and yanked her backwards with great haste.
When Cura looked at her surprise assailant, her eyes brimmed with tears. She immediately recognized him and the second accompanying him.
Savos Aren, former Arch-Mage of Winterhold had placed a firm hand on her, and he was joined by Mirabelle Ervine.
"Do not go with them." Savos warned her. "They will lead you to death; we seek you to live."
Mirabelle nodded in agreement. "You've done well, defeating Alduin. We witnessed the spectacle. Now, Tamriel needs you for greater purposes."
Cura's eyes wavered for a moment, but she quickly realized that the Moric, Celann and Bruna were false; they immediately shifted into Dremora and the Hall of the Vigilant transformed into a dark dimension, filled with lava and tormented souls impaled on spikes and stuffed in small, rotting pouches.
"Are these... the Deadlands?" Cura asked her true familiar allies as she readied for battle.
"Yes - but with Julianos' protection, we are invisible to the Daedra. For now, at least. We must advance with caution." Mirabelle informed her. "Your friends, I presume just now, were a trap. Had you touched them, the Dremora would be made aware of your presence."
That was a comforting thought. Cura was thankful that Mirabelle and Savos warned her of such, though she was sure she could handle the Dremora. "How can I be certain that this is really you, then, and not part of that illusion?"
Mirabelle Ervine lifted up her left hand, revealing her missing pinky finger and allowed the flesh to fade from her hand, revealing where the Eye of Magnus' energy had burned her. "You could choose to believe us, or you could linger about here for an eternity."
Cura looked then to Savos, nearly convinced. It was only when he allowed his flesh to fade and revealed the skeletal burns caused by the Eye as well that she was sold. Cura exhaled with relief and embraced the two of them.
"I am relieved, but why am I in the Deadlands?" Cura felt a large wave of fear take her. She'd never been allied with Mehrunes Dagon, and her soul did not belong to him. Why was she trapped in his dark realm?
"The corruption that spread through your blood was the blood of Mehrunes Dagon himself." Savos sadly informed her. "Mankar Camoran had gained it centuries ago. It was first used to kill Uriel Septim. The blade that killed you's intended target was Martin Septim, but he'd never met it."
"So I'm stuck here now?" Cura squealed anxiously as she examined her hellish surroundings, complete with rugged mountains, lava, Daedra, and darkness
"No. We were sent by the Divines to guide you." Mirabelle informed her, offering her a spotlight of hope on this dark stage.
Cura wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "You... you have no idea how good it is to see you again."
Keeper Carcette chewed her thumbnail anxiously as she waited in the Beacon's common room with Brother Adalvald and Nirtius Pontanian.
All nervously awaited news of any kind, when the very earth was shaken with a violent upheaval many miles away.
The tremor was so great, it caused items to fall off of the walls and bookshelves to tip over.
The drinks on the bar counter rattled in a cacophony of dread, clinking and clanking, and ending in a chime resembling much the toll of a knell.
Every Vigilant clung to the walls or hid under immediate surfaces for shelter until the quake ended.
"That can't be good." Brother Adalvald shuddered as he slowly raised himself up from under the bar counter.
Carcette felt a sickening pull in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes, good and bad, began to water.
It was instinctual.
She knew something went very, very wrong. She hoped she was wrong, but the likelihood was slim.
A Vigilant messenger anxiously entered a few minutes afterwards with a dire expression on his face. "Vigilant Cura's allies are back."
Carcette, Adalvald and Nirtius looked at one another before Carcette took quickly to the stairs, dodging rubble and hurrying to locate Cura.
A part of her was hopeful. Maybe she was okay.
She rushed as fast as her armoured legs could carry her and immediately was greeted with the sight of horrified Vigilants. Some cupping their hands over their mouths.
Brother Adalvald and Nirtius followed behind, hurrying up the wooden planks aligning the walkways.
Inigo, Lucien and Vilja's faces told it all. Carcette's face fell from worried to shocked, to great sadness as she rushed past several Vigilants to Cura, who was slumped in Inigo's tense arms.
"CURA!" Carcette wailed as she rushed to her side. She removed her gauntlet and touched the face of her protégé, and it was already growing cold. The pink blush had faded from the half-Elf's cheeks and her eyes were closed.
"She's gone." Lucien sniffled as he held back tears of his own.
Upon hearing this Carcette stumbled backwards and cupped her hands over her nose and mouth and an audible choking so escaped her. "Oh-!"
Brother Adalvald lowered his head sadly and began to whimper, himself.
Nirtius lowered his hood respectfully and looked down to the floor. "I'm so sorry. It should never have come to this." He turned to face his own ally, who stood solemnly amongst the group. "What happened, Irbrand?"
"It was a trap, as suspected. Cura was lured by a false Keeper Carcette to the caverns, where she killed Vonos, but that was their intention the entire time. They needed the Great Welkynd Stone and a blasphemous sacrifice to pry open the portal to the Deadlands. She... by the looks of it was struck with the Dagger of Mehruns' blood. It was designed to kill Dragonborns, specifically, and then vanish. We've... done research on it." Irbrand summarized.
Keeper Carcette could not speak. She pressed her closed fingers against her mouth and closed her leaking eye. It was too much. Mere shudders escaped her throat. A dagger designed to kill a Dragonborn? Then Cura was their target all along. She was there target, and there was nothing the Vigil could do to protect her.
"None of you thought to stop her? None of you?! By the Gods, I thought you were her friends!" Adalvald growled in frustration and reprimanded Inigo, Lucien and Vilja.
"We were separated by a trap of stupid boulders!" Vilja yelled back. "We had to break through them to reach Cura! For crying out loud!"
"Do not blame us! We did the best we could, but the Mythic Dawn was a few steps ahead of us..." Inigo remarked sadly.
Lucien's teeth chattered. "It gets worse. Mehrunes Dagon escaped the portal. He's loose in the world now!"
A deathly silence filled the area.
Nirtius nearly lost his own footing, and grabbed the nearby table for support. "Then I have failed. Those decades of spying... of infiltrating... of comrades lost in battle... it has all been for nothing."
Inigo laid Cura's body down on the first bed in the common area and gently placed her Amulet of Stendarr in her hands, laced around her wrists and laid her hands over her stomach in a prayerful position with it.
Keeper Carcette walked over to the bedside and stroked Cura's forehead softly before breaking down into a hysterical crying fit.
Vilja wept as well, as did Lucien and Brother Adalvald, who joined Carcette and placed a gentle, reassuring hand on her back.
"She's gone... she's gone... and I never got to even say good-bye..." Carcette choked.
Adalvald tried to comfort her. "She's in a better place, now. They can't hurt her anymore."
Carcette choked down another sob and turned to face him. "She was good... Cura. She was always so sweet. She didn't deserve to die like that!"
Adalvald sniffled, but did his best to fight back the sorrow. "She's not suffering anymore. And she wouldn't want us to grieve for her; she would want us to do what's right."
Inigo sat on the chair beside Cura and chugged a bottle of Mead to drown some of the sorrow. "I will not despair." he asserted as he placed the bottle firmly on the endtable. "Meridia is looking after her. I think she may have plans for Cura."
"Meridia? The Daedric Prince?" Nirtius asked sternly.
"She protected us from Mehrunes Dagon. She does not want anything to happen to Cura's body." Inigo touched Cura's hands. "I am thinking there must be a reason. I choose to remain hopeful."
Keeper Carcette wiped some of her tears away, and her sad face curled into one of fierce derision. "I quit."
Everyone in the area was stunned to hear those words.
"What?" Brother Adalvald asked with great surprise.
The Keeper refused to repeat herself. They knew damn well what she just said. She began to unfasten the Stendarr Paladin Armour from the back and allowed the silver plating to collapse to the ground. The white cloth followed next. Underneath, she wore a Belted Tunic.
"Keeper Carcette!" Adalvald exclaimed with horror to her sudden proclamation.
"Carcette the Survivor." she corrected him. "Or... the Avenger." she stood up firmly. "I'm going to root out those Daedra worshippers... however many of them remain... and I will kill them! There will be no mercy." she removed her Amulet of Stendarr and pushed it into Brother Adalvald's hands.
"But... Carcette..."
"My entire life, I've dedicated to Stendarr. What have I gained from it?" Carcette barked angrily. "I've lost my father, my aunt, my inheritance, my eye, my humanity for a time, and now I've lost Cura! No more! I'm done! If Stendarr truly is the God of Justice, he should understand!"
The other Vigilants were astonished. At a time where the Keeper should be praying, she was instead throwing her fury around like her warhammer. Tears had swollen Carcette's eye and her face was flush with blood-red rage.
"You're not thinking straight. I understand; do you think this doesn't upset me, too?" Adalvald tried to regain her.
"I understand, Carcette. Do as you must." Nirtius empathize with her. "I too left the Vigil for similar reasons."
Carcette gently touched Cura's cheek and another tear escaped her. "If it was my purpose to be Keeper so you could live to defeat Alduin, then that purpose has died with the Wyrm. It's time for new endeavours."
She turned to Inigo and extended a hand for a shake, hoping to secure an alliance. "Let's work together. We're going to avenge her."
Inigo did not hesitate. He shook her hand. "Yes, let's kick some Daedra ass! For Cura!"
"For Cura!" Vilja and Lucien exclaimed in unison.
Brother Adalvald looked sadly at Carcette, then her Amulet in his hand, then at Cura laying on the bed. "Should we make a cemetery near the Hall of the Vigilant and bury her?" the words made him sick to his stomach.
Surely they weren't going to just leave her corpse in the bed.
A powerful, commanding feminine voice shook the room. "Her body is not to be moved! It shall not rot, for I am preserving her!"
Everybody looked around in alarm, searching for the source of the voice.
"Show yourself! By the authority of Stendarr -" before Nirtius could finish his command, Meridia made herself visible over Cura's body and bed.
She spread her wings and folded her arms. "You have no authority over me, mortal. I only tolerate your presence on Nirn because you share my interest in destroying the Undead." she glanced down at Cura. "...And because my champion whom I love cares for you all. You should count yourselves fortunate."
Everybody stood paralyzed with fear at the sight of Meridia.
"Meridia, lend me Dawnbreaker and I will continue my protégé's work in your name." Carcette extended her arms in surrender to Meridia. She looked down at Cura as she spoke. "I love her, too."
"You..." Meridia grunted with a voice dripping with nonchalance. "You are not worthy to serve me. You see the Et'Ada as mere tools to give you what you desire in life. You forget, mortal, that you are but dust in our eyes. You exist on our whims. Never forget that."
After she was done rebuking Carcette, Meridia faded away into the light of the air and the area remained silent. However, a faint golden glow covered Cura's body.
Brother Adalvald gently hugged Carcette, who seemed very vexed on top of all else. He then handed her back her Amulet of Stendarr and clasped her fingers around it. "Take it, Carcette. Leave it f you must; I will give you space to grieve. But promise me, as a friend, don't abandon him. He hasn't abandoned you."
Carcette looked at the Amulet and sighed. She turned away from her old friend and bit her lower lip in frustration before running outside.
As she reached the exterior, she saw one of the Vigilants who'd imprisoned her earlier. He could see the anger written all over her face, but nothing could have prepared him to have his head pummeled into the nearby wall.
Carcette walked over his unconscious body and kicked up some snow.
She was freezing, wearing nothing but her Belted Tunic, but anger was enough to provide her with warmth.
Inigo gently touched Cura's hands back under the Fort. "My friend, wherever you are, have confidence. We will stop Mehrunes Dagon. We must."
Lucien looked a lot more damp in the face. He wasn't as certain, but he did see Meridia appear twice now. Perhaps there was something going on that they didn't understand.
Vilja crossed her arms as she felt the brisk frozen air sting her wet cheeks. "So, what do we do now?"
"We tell the Blades... or the Skyguard." Inigo insisted. "Maybe they can help us somehow. I am not sure, but it is worth a shot."
Carcette agreed. "Yes, fine. I suppose there's no harm in it." she harboured bitter sentiment towards Delphine from their previous encounters, but she knew the witch had to understand now that Cura was gone, they were all in great danger. The Blades, or Skyguard, had an obligation to the Empire, and Skyrim was still part of the Empire.
And she was not going to give her a choice to refuse.
Inigo could see the great toll this had all taken on Carcette and gently took her hand. "We loved Cura, as well. She was our bestest friend. My bestest friend... but I am thinking there is more going on than we realize, and we will see her again." the Blue Khajiit looked at her in earnest. If the Divines were willing to spare a miscreant like himself, he figured, they surely had greater plans for Cura. "After all, she did return from one land of the dead already. Do not doubt."
Carcette exhaled through her nose and felt her anger slowly melt away. All that remained was the longing. "She meant the world to us. Mehrunes Dagon - I don't care if he's a Daedric Prince - he is going to pay dearly for that; even if I die in the process." she wrested her hand free and marched ahead of the group.
"If she doesn't die of frostbite first." Vilja remarked aside to Lucien concerning her outerwear.
Lucien wasn't much feeling the humour. "Inigo, I'll jump on your bandwagon. Perhaps you are correct. Maybe this is all part of something bigger. You're right; we mustn't give up hope - or - or we've already lost."
Vilja sighed. "Well, I suppose I'll never solve the mystery of my grandma's bottle now."
"Compared to Mehrunes Dagon, I do not think that is a pressing matter." Inigo admitted.
"No, no, you're right. I'm not complaining, necessarily... I am just wondering how I got roped into a war against Daedra from all this." Vilja questioned her entire journey spent in Skyrim. She'd gotten involved in so many strange events that she'd actually nearly forgotten the ingredients and the bottle.
But still, if Inigo and Lucien were going to hold out hope for Cura, so too would she. And if she should be alive again, then Vilja would lecture her about the ingredients. All in all, it was something for her to look forward to, potentially.
The group descended the cold winter mountain and left the Beacon behind.