Turdas, 1^st Morning Star, 4E 202

& Fredas, 2^nd Morning Star, 4E 202

I awoke when a dragon’s roar pierced the peace and my slumber. I recognised the dragon before seeing them. However, a transformed Silah was hovering overhead when I opened my eyes.

I said via telepathy, “Good morning, Silah.”

“I am getting bored chasing away hungry bears and wolves.”

“Kyne’s Peace works if I am awake or sleep.”

“Well, it is boring standing guard.”

“You have been flying, not standing. Otherwise, you would not have been much of a guard.”

“Several seconds have passed, and you have yet to compliment the change.”

“Oh, your poor ego. Land so I do not get a crook neck but stay in dragon form. That will allow me to admire your beauty.”

“I will land away from the shrine so I do not cover it in dirt.”

While Silah landed, I looked up and asked Mother, “It seems some changes have been made. Am I the catalyst?”

Saint Alessia did not answer, but Silah said, “Come and talk, Valdr. Much is yet to happen, but I have some answers.”

I wandered over to the more significant, intimidating Jill and told her, “You are just as beautiful as ever, Silah. Even if your already large rump is much bigger.”

“I thought these colours suit this form better.”

“Was this a favour for you, or have other Dov been changed?”

“Most Dov have been changed. I cannot wait to join the gossip amongst the airheads at The Throat of the World.”

“Why did Lord Akatosh do this?”

“On a whim. And yes, you are the catalyst.”

“How could my conversation with The Herald cause this?”

“Why did you intuitively think it did?”

“We have discussed this in the past. My intuition is random speculation that often proves correct. I do not know why this is so.”

“It nearly always proves correct, and I can tell you why. But you must listen and not object.”

“Yes, Aunty Silah.”

“You fear being labelled Shezarrine, for your understanding of that gift is limited. Mortal scholars have misinterpreted what it involves, which has fed your fears and rejection of the possibility.”

“Am I Shezarrine?”

“Yes, you are the seventh with that blessing.”

“Is Father Shezarrine?”

“Yes, and he is proof that not all of them help for some time and then move away. He ruled The Empire for over eighty years till, at one hundred and eight years, he decided he could hand its reign to another. Only then did he allow himself to be welcomed by his gods and deceased loved ones in Aetherius.”

‘Okay, what is a Shezarrine?”

“They are not aspects or avatars of Lord Shor. However, as he did with the other six, he bestowed upon you his blessings.”

“Like I received the Ningheim blessings?”

“Yes, except you were aware of that act.”

“And what parts of me owe themselves to these blessings?”

“Enhanced memory, intuition, and logic. Those blessings have proven helpful to you as they have past mortal champions.”

“How did Lord Shor manage to bestow this blessing?”

“Amongst the gods, only Lord Shor knew how to fulfil your parents’ desire to have a mortal child on Nirn. When you were conceived, they visited Sovngarde, where Lord Shor and Lady Mara informed them of an unexpected development. You were the first Dragonchild, a mortal with Lord Akatosh’s blessing bestowed at conception. As you know, knowledge of metaphysics is limited, even with Lord Shor. The combination of Saint Alessia and Lord Talos caused this blessing at conception. Just as those of Saint Alessia’s line inherited Dragonblood.”

“So, if Rigmor and I were to have a child, would it be a Dragonchild?”

“We do not know, for she is a mortal.”

“I thought my parents were mortal when I was conceived.”

“They were as mortal as The Divines, and Lord Shor could make them. But they were still avatars of gods.”

“When was I made Shezarrine?”

“Lord Shor blessed you without your parent’s knowledge or permission. They did not know if you would accept the role of Dragonborn, even though you were born one. Lord Shor did this intrusive thing because he intuitively knew that you would accept the role and wanted to aid you.”

“So, Lord Shor is the trickster of Khajiiti and other pantheons.”

“Your parents kept this knowledge from you, hoping you would learn of it when mature enough to judge Lord Shor with fairness. They hold no bitterness towards him, for his motive was benevolent.”

“Why did Lord Shor try to replace my soul when I summoned him?”

“He does not know. Once again, I emphasise that even Lord Shor’s understanding of metaphysics is limited.”

“Why could I recognise and use Creatia?”

“An unforeseen trait inherited from your parents.”

“They wanted a mortal child but got a Dragonborn Shezarrine with random abilities.”

“You are a mortal. Those additional labels and blessings do not alter that fact.”

“Returning to my original question, how did my conversation with The Herald lead to Lord Akatosh transforming Dov?”

“Lord Akatosh uses The Herald as a filter. The Marukhati Selective did harm Lord Akatosh, or AKA if you prefer. Our Lord finds it difficult to communicate directly. The Herald translates his sometimes-incoherent thoughts.”

“Lord Akatosh is not insane.”

“No, he is not insane. However, he cannot express his thoughts to mortals as clearly as other gods. Through The Herald, he detected your reverence for dragons and understood why you are reluctant to risk them in battle. He then transformed Dov to be stronger, larger, and faster to aid you. Consequently, nearly all of us are a match for Odahviing and Paarthurnax regarding Thu’um, speed, and strength. You have been hesitant to use us in battle. Lord Akatosh hopes you will no longer fear for us.”

“People are learning that dragons are not the mindless beasts of childhood nightmares. I hesitate to use my scaly brethren in battle because they would reignite the old tales after mortals witnessed their ferocity. Small skirmishes are different than entire platoons being carbonised by Dragonfire.”

“You do not know what enemies you will face in the future. Therefore, you cannot claim you would never ask us to fight beside you in a battle.”

“That is true. Also, Lord Akatosh thought of displaying his power to show The Marukhati Selective has not lessened it.”

“Your intuition is correct once again.”

“Are there any other revelations before breakfast?”

“Any questions concerning Lord Talos must be directed at him.”

“Good, my appetite may be spoiled if I consume too much truth.”

“You and I know there is little chance of that, Valdr.”

“I look forward to seeing the transformation of my other Dov allies.”

“I do not think Nahfahlaar will appear for several days. He will be too busy admiring himself in his many mirrors.”

“I have no doubt many more secrets will be withheld. I understand the need, Silah.”

“Always remember, you are loved by your parents, The Nine and countless mortals.”

“And love is the most powerful force known.”

“That is good. I will even forgive you for calling me Aunty.”

Silah lifted and headed for The Throat of the World.

I looked down to where I had slept and spoke to Rigmor via Mara’s Rings.

“Good morning, Countess.”

“Aagh…not so loud or cheerful!”

“ARE YOU SUFFERING FROM CRAPULENCE?”

“Softer, I beg you! And what is crapulence?”

“Our volume cannot vary via the rings. It is your fragile state that suggests otherwise. Crapulence is a common synonym for hangover.”

“Only on that remote island of weirdos where you were born.”

“Just imagine. My magic could cure your dry mouth, aching head and need to upchuck!”

“I can manage on my own without your pity.”

“Why would I pity your self-induced state of misery? A big plate of greasy bacon, runny eggs, and fart-inducing beans might help.”

There was a pause of a few minutes, then an unhappy Rigmor accused, “You, Valdr Septim, can be a bastard sometimes.”

“Did you upchuck?”

“What do you think? Just the thought of greasy bacon…”

“I will have to try harder. Then perhaps I can be a bastard all the time.”

“You are more cheerful. What has helped?”

“I will talk to you in person about it. If I give you an hour, will you be fit to travel with me?”

“Where are you going?”

‘I don’t know yet.”

“Today is a holiday. Therefore, no court will be in session. So yes, my mean Dragonbum, I shall be ready.”

“I am heading to the Safehouse for a mountain of fried, greasy food. Should I save you some?”

 “Get stuffed!”

“There is a lot to talk about, but it will have to be in person and after I figure it all out.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

I will have to think about what I reveal and to who. Therefore, my conversations with those at the Safehouse did not include today’s revelations. I have no doubt more will be forthcoming when I speak to Father.

After stuffing my face with eggs, bacon, sausages, and beans, I had a spa and was ready for the day.

Inigo wanted to spend New Year’s Day with Jo’rassa. Dhali decided she wanted to come, even though I did not know if we were going anywhere. Urdr thought it best she finished reading my unredacted journals. Therefore, today’s squad was Rigmor, Felix, Vayu, and Dhali.

I summoned Rigmor and asked, “Are you okay? There is no harm in getting a bit of healing if required.”

“You are accusing me of being a milk drinker.”

“Oh, sorry, I was not aware of the Nord protocols concerning alcohol poisoning.”

“Let us get moving before you find yourself in big trouble.”

“First, let us talk for a few minutes in my room.”

“Just talking?”

“I am afraid so. I have not fixed the elusive bed squeak.”

“Standing up is perfectly acceptable.”

“Control yourself, Countess.”

About ten minutes later, we emerged and gathered the others. The squad then followed me into the museum.

We were told Auryen was haunting the library, so that is where we headed.

He was on the third level when we approached him.

“Auryen, do you want to discuss Sancre Tor?”

“In the middle of the hall?”

“Why not? Nothing of great significance was revealed.”

“Were you successful?”

“I do not have a reconstructed Amulet of Kings, but I did remove the Underking’s curse from Sancre Tor. I consider that a success. He was one of the deadliest adversaries I have faced.”

“Oh my.”

“Let us start with what I learnt. I spoke to a Dovah in an Aetherius pocket plane. He is the Herald of Akatosh.”

“Are you serious? Then Akatosh must be aware of our pursuits, and the offerings must have drawn his attention as we intended. Splendid!”

“Auryen, The Divines planned for me to collect the artefacts. I did not need to draw Lord Akatosh’s attention. He desires that The Amulet of Kings be reconstructed.”

“Oh… of course. I am still troubled by the concept of Divine manipulation.”

“They are expert conmen. Nothing sinister.”

“As Champion of The Divines, you sometimes tread perilously close to blasphemy.”

“The truth is never blasphemy.”

“Why didn’t Akatosh reconstruct The Amulet of Kings?”

“I will quote The Herald, and let us see what you can deduce.”

“In Tamrielic?”

“Yes, in Tamrielic. I did not speak to The Herald in Dovahzul.”

“Okay, but I have not had hours to prepare as I did with our previous discussion.”

“The Herald said you would not be manipulated further. But he did not say initial manipulation was over.”

“That is not very comforting.”

“The Herald of Akatosh said, ‘The blood of the mother you have in full. The breath of the father you have yet to obtain fully. Go forth and make whole the symbols of the offering so that the heart too may once again be made whole.’”

A perplexed Auryen replied, “…blood of the mother you have in full…but the breath of the father you have yet to obtain fully. That is curious and quite vexing.”

“Take your time, Auryen. It may help if you regard The Herald as being quite literal.”

“Yes, I can see that helps clarify things. Did you recover part of Tiber Septim’s armour?”

“Yes, I recovered his helm after he played a practical joke on me.”

“Lord Talos played a practical joke on you?”

“My Father’s sense of humour is intact. Some say it is a pity that I inherited it.”

“The blood of the mother must refer to the three items with which you entered Aetherius. The shards of the Chem-el Adabal, Reman Cyrodiil’s shield and Tiber Septim’s helm. The mother must refer to Saint Alessia.”

“I am not convinced you could logically group all three as representing Saint Alessia unless you believe Reman Cyrodiil was a potato and his father had weird fetishes.”

My friends started to laugh.

Auryen looked slightly annoyed as he continued, “There must be three symbols to represent the ‘breath of the father.’ Hmm… this is quite interesting.”

“You are doing well, Auryen. They are laughing at the myth, not you.”

“Well… ‘yet to fully obtain’ implies that one or more items you entered Aetherius with must be symbols of Shor.”

“I recovered an item from the ashes of Zurin Arctus. I believe this ring is the seal he used when performing his official duties. The shards reacted to it.”

I handed the ring to Auryen, who then spent several minutes studying it.

He returned it and said, “Yes, it is the seal of an Imperial Royal Advisor with the crest of Zurin Arctus. He was the Underking you fought?”

“Yes. I told you Zurin was imprisoned in Sancre Tor even though it was not mentioned in anything you or Master Urag read. Also, the ring has his name engraved on it.”

“You are in fine form this morning.”

“A seal that used part of Father’s Consciousness had failed when The Wheel Turned. In other words, when Alduin returned. Therefore, I was beset by many undead under Zurin’s control.”

“Wulfharth is also reported to be The Underking. I think something related to him is required.”

“I do not want to get into the metaphysical gobblygook of how two people ended up being The Underking. Even less appealing is discussing some of the myths surrounding Wulfharth. They are less believable than Reman’s origin myth.”

“I assume you refer to the one where Orkey summoned Alduin’s shadow, which then cursed every mortal and made them revert to six years of age.”

“Ahh, you have forced me to discuss nonsense when I wanted to avoid it. Alduin would never do such a thing. His purpose is to end each kalpa. He deviated from that when he attempted to become Overlord of not only Dov but mortals as well. Why would he want to rule a kingdom of children? Why would he assist another god with their ambitions? It is total bullshit and simply a means to give Wulfarth a spectacular death. You cannot have heroes dying of natural old age or choking on chicken bones! Dying of magically induced old age caused by sacrifice is acceptable. That myth also supplied the racist Nords with a derogatory name for the Orsimer. Knowing its origins, I hesitate to use the term ‘orc’.”

“Okay, what about Wulfharth being regarded as the Tongue of Shor or an Avatar of Shor? His power with the Voice was so extreme that he never spoke as a single word could tear down an entire mountain face. He made his many royal decrees through the written word.”

“Decrees are supposed to be written down. Wulfarth may have been Shezarrine, but they are not avatars of Lord Shor.”

“Then what is a Shezarrine?”

“I am a Dragonborn. Did I have to be an avatar or aspect of Lord Akatosh for that to happen?”

“No. It was a blessing you received from Lord Akatosh.”

“That is what normally happens, but my blessing resulted from who my parents are. What can you assume from how Dragonborn are normally created?”

“Oh, a Shezarrine is somebody blessed by Shor!”

“Correct. The common attributes given to Shezarrine by historians are incorrect and based on a sample that is too small. Not all of those called Shezarrine championed Man over Mer. It just so happens that many protracted wars and great battles have Man and Mer on opposing sides. I am Shezarrine, yet I fight for all mortals, regardless of race. Not all Shezarrine abandoned people after completing a task. For instance, Father ruled his empire for over eighty years and did not abandon it. I would not leave Rigmor’s side or abandon my many friends.”

“What does Shor’s blessing provide?”

“Superior memory, logic, and intuition. All are valuable skills that I possess.”

“Did you learn this while in Sancre Tor?”

“No. Silah told me at the foot of Mother’s shrine. She did this at the behest of The Nine. You will notice a change in most dragons. As of this morning, they are larger and more powerful. Lord Akatosh did this alteration for my benefit. He hopes I will be less hesitant to use them in battle. It is also a demonstration of his power.”

“I can understand why you may have been reluctant to accept the label of Shezarrine.”

“On a side note, we already have two relics of supposed Shezarrine in Zurin Arctus and Tiber Septim. Why would they be more likely to symbolise Saint Alessia than Shor?”

“Ahh…I do not know. Is there anything else I might offend your sensibilities with?”

“If you dare bring up Mantling and Enantiomorph, I will cry!”

“Mantling is a fascinating subject!”

“It is a concept where supposed scholars try and make coincidences seem mystical. They handpick things that fit the theory and ignore the larger number that contradicts them. It also reduces metaphysics to the level of stupidity. This person and this other person are similar, so let us replace one with the other. Duh!”

“Vivec mentioned Enantiomorph.”

“Vivec’s writings are more cryptic than anything else I have read. He wrote untrue things, yet the supporters of Enantiomorph argue he was correct in this instance. Cobblers! Lord Talos will tell me the truth about Vivec’s claim, and when he does, I will believe his word over theoretical historians and a fake god.”

“Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“It is utter bullshit about Wulfarth not being able to speak because of the power of his Thu’um. Three of the four Greybeards will not speak because they have not trained to moderate their voice. However, out of respect, they verbally greet me with my title, yet The Throat of The World has not fallen, and High Hrothgar has not turned to rubble! Arngeir has the most powerful Thu’um of the four, yet he talks, talks, and then talks some more. Dozens of dragons have spoken to me, usually to inform me of how I am about to die, and their Thu’um is as powerful as any mortals. Jurgen Windcaller could talk. The ancient Tongues who banished Alduin could talk. I can talk!”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Do you think I need to gather a symbol of Wulfarth?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I shall do so. But first, tell me why you think ‘father’ refers to Shor rather than Akatosh. The three items you have declared represent the mother, Saint Alessia, could just as easily represent Akatosh.”

“The gender is important if we take The Herald literally.”

“Okay. I will accept that.”

“Taking the literal sense of The Herald of Akatosh’s message, I think ‘breath of the father’ refers to The Voice, the Thu’um, and therefore, Shor.”

“I fail to see that connection and waste time discussing myths and theories. I would love to sit down and discuss these things over wine and cheese. However, I want to restore The Amulet of Kings to aid Saint Alessia. If you think I need to obtain a symbol of Wulfarth, that is what I will do. Whose is the other symbol that represents Shor?”

“I believe the third symbol must belong to Morihaus.”

“The Lord’s Mail is the only relic I know of relating to Lord Morihaus.”

“There is also a wing feather, but I have no idea where it is.”

“I will give you something to contemplate before you tell me where I search for these symbols. You are correct that we are looking for two groups of three. You know the myths, histories and contradictions concerning the creation of the Chim-el Adabal.”

“Yes. Some say it is made from Lorkhan’s blood. Others say it is made from the blood of Akatosh.”

“After he lost the battle at Convention, Lorkhan’s blood fell to earth and solidified into a gem. The gem was discovered by the Ayleid and shaped into The Red Diamond. Akatosh infused the gem with his blood when making The Amulet of Kings. Wherever your convoluted logic leads, in the end, I believe we are gathering symbols to represent Akatosh and Lorkhan because both contributed to the creation of the Chim-el Adabal.”

“Okay, let us talk about Wulfharth.”

“Logically, we will likely find clues to a relic of Wulfarth within Windhelm. There may even be one in that repulsive city.”

“That makes sense. There are plenty of statues and plaques concerning Wulfharth scattered throughout Windhelm.”

“There is also The Palace of Kings, which looks like it has not been swept or dusted since Wulfharth lived there. What about Morihaus? Do you know where The Lord’s Mail is?”

“Well, sort of. The Lord’s Mail was in Solitude till very recently. It was supposed to be delivered to us so we could make a replica for display. Then, we were to return it to its keeper. But it has been stolen. The distraught person it was stolen from is General Tullius.”

“Who stole it? Molag Bal, so I must make a quick detour to Coldharbour to retrieve it?”

“Nothing as severe as that, although I understand your sarcasm. It was given to General Tullius for safekeeping by Emperor Titus Mede II during The Great War. News of the theft has been kept very quiet as it embarrasses the Penitus Oculatus and General Tullius.”

“The armour is also called ‘The Gift of Kynareth’, and if anybody unworthy tries to wear it, Kynareth will hide it from them. Did General Tullius try and wear it?”

“No, he is adamant he never tried to. He knows who the thief is, and the Penitus Oculatus are looking for him.”

“I could hassle Commander Maro at Dragon Bridge or get the information from General Tullius. I think I shall try the latter.”

“Are you leaving straight away?”

“Yes, but first, let me emphasise that I appreciate your assistance. I can seem dismissive at times. The Herald of Akatosh blames my upbringing.”

“With your burdens, you can be as dismissive as you want. We have discussed many topics, and you always listen to my theories.”

“I hope Wulfharth is not at home. I have had enough of Underkings for a while.”

Auryen laughed as the squad and I teleported into Castle Dour.

We materialised, and I immediately remembered why I was not too fond of Castle Dour. It is dull and lacks any artistic quality. When the most exciting thing you can see is Imperial banners, you know some redecorating is needed. I suspect Emperor’s Tower is more lavish, but I have not been inside.

We headed to the war room. It is a redundant name since no war is being fought.

We interrupted General Tullius while discussing troop deployment on Evermore’s border.

“Good morning, General Tullius.”

“Are you here to discuss Evermore, Lord Welkynd?”

“No, I am here about Lord Morihaus’ armour. I believe it was stolen. Normally, I would leave such a theft for Commander Maro to sort out. But The Divines want me to find it, so here I am.”

“Well then, you had better read this. It was issued this morning.”

Tullius handed me a note, which I read aloud to the squad,

“Praefect Torbal is wanted for desertion, theft, and two counts of murder.

Torbal killed two legionnaires, but not before making off with a piece of General Tullius’ collection: The Lord’s Mail.

His escape was under our watch, reflecting poorly on us all. Flush him out, but keep this quiet. If you find the stolen armour, bring it to me, and I will personally return it to the General.

The last reports indicated he was heading toward Steepfall Burrow.

–Commander Maro.”

 I asked, “Is Praefect Torbal a devotee of Kynareth?”

“Yes. Do you know Torbal?”

“No, but it is obvious.”

“Ah… why is it obvious?”

“For a Praefect to resort to murdering other Legionnaires, he must believe he is acting as his god desires. Only devotees of Kynareth would have such an emotional attachment to The Lord’s Mail. So Torbal is a maniacal devotee of Kynareth who has decided you should not be laying your grubby hands on that armour.”

“It was explained to him that the armour is not touched or put on display or, Divines help me, worn.”

“Raving religious lunatics don’t listen to anybody but the voices in their heads.”

“I am certain His Imperial Majesty would want me to thank you for saving the day at Fort Pale Pass.”

“Did you know there were so many still willing to fight and die as a Stormcloak?”

“Nobody did, and that is why an insufficient force was sent to relieve the garrison.”

“The Countess of Bruma’s men reported accurately and should have been believed. If they had, I might have avoided the need to kill a couple of hundred people that day. The Legion looks down their noses at city and town guards instead of treating them with the respect they deserve. Many city guards are retired Legionnaires.”

“Usually, Imperial Legion field reports are dull affairs with hyperbole avoided. I know you hate your martial prowess as a catalyst for awe, but look at it from a Legionnaire’s perspective. You are almost a god incarnate to many.  When they see you scythe through the enemy as you did, you turn Imperial field reports into pages of hyperbole. The reporting officers ran out of superlatives. We may be at peace now, but everybody senses the White-Gold Concordat is a temporary truce. You on a battlefield are worth another battalion simply because of the courage generated.”

“The quicker I kill the enemies, the fewer people on our side die. That is an easy decision if the enemy are invaders or outlaws. If another Great War starts, you will see me on the battlefield if The Dominion is the aggressor. I will never be a tool for an Emperor who invades others to expand The Empire. I am the instrument of The Divines, not a weapon of the ambitious.”

“I think you can relax with Emperor Mede. He is the least likely to be an aggressor than others.”

“Was the battle of Fort Pale Pass the end of the Stormcloaks? I killed many veterans, but most of their troops were youths with no previous experience of battle. Any Legionnaire could have cut a path through them.”

“Many of the veterans you killed were heroes of The Great War. The youths were grandchildren of the veterans. In some instances, three generations of a family were extinguished in that battle. Why? Because the veterans did not believe the truth about Ulfric and convinced their grandchildren that it was heroic and honourable to fight a war that could never be won. While Nords continue to glorify battle, you will have those who find any excuse to partake in it. So, in answer to your question, I think we will have pockets of Stormcloak activity for years to come. We hoped that declaring Stormcloaks as outlaws would stem their recruiting. They cannot call themselves soldiers, and it should be harder for grandfathers to convince the young to become bandits.”

“I remember every mortal I kill with my weapons.”

“You remember every kill with a sword or bow?”

“Yes. I do not want to be another Pelinal Whitestrake. The Divines did not force this curse on me. I chose to inflict it on myself. I could easily become the dragon that flows in my blood and fills my soul. Dragons do not know mercy and revel in combat. Letting that part of me loose is sometimes required, and I do not remember the kills. However, I chose to kill without mercy at Fort Pale Pass without allowing my Dovah to ease the burden. Many Stormcloaks died begging for mercy or trying to flee. They had ample opportunity and warnings before that day of what would happen. Without the memories, I might permanently become my inner dragon.”

“No person should have to carry such a burden.”

“One girl who I killed at Fort Pale Pass was fifteen or sixteen years of age. There was no glory when my sword pierced her belly and stuck out her back. I wish I could make others see just a fraction of what my mind can replay. Then, there would be no more grandchildren believing the rhetoric of their grandfathers. I have killed over three thousand people with a sword and bow. The number of people I have killed with The Voice and spells is likely even higher. I cannot count them when many die at once. Those deaths do not remain in my head.”

“Peace is paid for in blood.”

“Not all the time. I hope that diplomacy prevents the Imperial Army from crossing Evermore’s border. I may never enjoy the peace I fight for, but I have my duty like any soldier. However, I have entered The Hall of Valor in Sovngarde and fail to see why any sane person would want to spend their afterlife there. The entirety of Aetherius is awash with love, except for that corrupted pocket. What is that young girl going to boast about in that hall? The Dragonborn, the legendary hero of the Nords, killed me within a second of facing me. His sword pierced my armour and body as if it were paper, and never had I felt such pain. As my failing body collapsed, he withdrew his sword and decapitated my screaming friend next to me. I lived long enough to see her head hit the ground, horror on her face. It was glorious!”

“No doubt, Lord Welkynd, they would regard her death as valorous.”

“I am sure she would have preferred a long life, possibly with children, and an afterlife surrounded by love and those who passed before her. Instead, she must listen to the likes of Ulfric Stormcloak and Ysgramor boast of the innocents they slaughtered.”

“Many of us share your revulsion for what we are forced to do.”

“There is no guarantee The Lord’s Mail will be returned. That depends on what The Divines want it for. I am sure His Imperial Majesty would understand if they wanted to keep it. I will try to bring Praefect Torbal back to face justice.”

“We still do not know when Mede will arrive.”

“One of my dragon allies, Valminoor, said His Imperial Majesty’s flagship is three or four days from docking, depending on the winds.”

“They are useful scouts.”

“If any dragons come visiting, do not panic. As of today, they are bigger and stronger, but they are still the same dragons. Lord Akatosh changed them, so I am more likely to use them in battle.”

“Do they look much different?”

“They now resemble Odahviing and Paarthurnax, the two most powerful after Alduin. So yes, they might have the same colouring as they had, but they are quite different.”

I told the squad, “We will walk towards Steepfall Burrow and see if the Penitus Oculatus agents have located Praefect Torbal.”

We exited Castle Dour and headed for Solitude’s main gates.

Just before exiting the city, Vayu stopped and faced me.

He asked, “Are there more surprises to be sprung on us? That news about you being Shezarrine was something I was unprepared for.”

“I am sorry, Vayu. I am still coming to terms with some things that have been revealed to me. I expect that when I talk to Lord Talos, even more shocks will be in store. I do not doubt that I will not be told everything.”

“I understand and know that when ready, you will sit and discuss the revelations with us.”

“Let us enjoy the walk and ignore the teeming rain.”

The weather cleared soon after exiting the city. We walked silently, as the others knew I was deep in thought.

Our silence was interrupted by an idiotic bandit who decided to attack us.

Dhali leapt in front of me while drawing her katana. Then she cut down the attacker, flicked the blood off her blade and then sheathed it.

• Felix: Why do fools attack a group such as this?
• Wulf: That is a mystery yet to be solved, Felix.
• Rigmor: There are many mysteries we ponder on our travels.
• Felix: Such as?
• Rigmor: Who lights the lamps and candles in tombs and ruins that have not been visited for decades, if not centuries?
• Dhali: Sometimes, the only inhabitants are undead, and they do not need light.
• Felix: What is your theory on that, Wulf?
• Wulf: Albatross!
• Felix: Yes, of course. I should have known.

Our brief stint of reasonable weather ended with a snowstorm.

• Wulf: Somebody is standing and waiting for us in the middle of the road.
• Rigmor: Every time we walk this road, idiots try to make us pay a toll.
• Wulf: Fort Hraggstad is now garrisoned by The Imperial Army, so they will have few if any, fellow idiots to support them.
• Felix: Another case of Albatross?
• Wulf: Nah, this is plain stupidity.
• Dhali: Are we to approach with weapons sheathed?
• Wulf: Yes. As usual, we let idiots choose their fate.

When we got closer, the idiot yelled, “Halt! It is 100 septims to travel further.”

I replied, in my most diplomatic tone, “Get stuffed!”

The idiot prepared to attack.

Felix yelled, “My turn!”

He then ran and decapitated the idiot before turning towards others attacking from our right.

A dozen bandits fell to our combined attacks in seconds.

One prone bandit begged for mercy before I plunged my sword into his belly.

The sentries at Fort Hraggstad whooped and cheered as our slaughter approached their gates.

Then, some goblins attacked, and the audience continued their barracking as we cut them down.

After the fighting, I asked one of the sentries, “Is this a regular thing?”

He replied, “Yes, Lord Welkynd. If we see them, we sortie and wipe them out. This lot appeared on the road just before you arrived.”

“It makes you wonder where the bandit breeding grounds are.”

“Ha. I have never thought about that.”

We continued without further interruption and eventually arrived at the upper entrance of Steepfall Burrow.

I told the group, “We have seen no sign of the Penitus Oculatus. Let us try the lower entrance.”

There were two dead Penitus Oculatus agents outside the lower entrance to Steepfall Burrow. Vayu and I inspected the bodies.

• Vayu: They were killed by wolves.
• Wulf: The caves are probably home to a large pack and a few Trolls.
• Felix: There are a few half-chewed bones scattered about.
• Wulf: If food is abundant, wolves will not consume an entire corpse.
• Dhali: They will remove excess from their den like any proud home owner.
• Rigmor: I cannot hear any fighting. Perhaps all the agents have been killed?
• Wulf: There is only one way to find out.

We entered and discovered the signs of battle. Live agents stood near the bodies of other agents and many wolves.

I asked an agent, “Where is your commanding officer?”

He pointed to a natural ramp and said, “Inspector Aquiro is up there, Lord Welkynd.”

We climbed the ramp and found more signs of battle. I approached the Inspector.

“What has happened here, Inspector Aquiro?”

“We tracked Praefect Torbal to these caves. We entered, leaving two sentries outside, and had just discovered his corpse when a returning wolf pack was not pleased with our presence. It was the largest pack I have even seen. I think one of those nearby was the Alpha Wolf because once he was killed, the others retreated.”

“Yes, they want to settle who the next alpha is before returning.”

“They killed the two sentries outside. That is five men plus the earlier two whose lives were lost thanks to Praefect Torval.”

“Is that his corpse next to the dead hunter?”

“Yes. The Praefect had this note on him.”

Inspector Aquiro handed me a bloodied note. I read it aloud to my companions.

“By The Divines, I wish it did not happen this way. The two guards who tried to stop me did not understand. The General does not deserve the armour, for he is not a faithful follower of the goddess. Kynareth guides ME!

There is a cave overlooking the shore. It seems like an excellent place to rest.

There were trolls in the cave. Huge ones! I have had to jump into a pool to escape them. Fortunately, an underwater cavern led to a lower cave. I had to leave the armour and shrine behind.

I will hunker down while I think of what to do. Staying in the cave is smarter than wandering the coastline where I could be easily spotted.”

I inspected both bodies. Both had their throats torn out by a wolf. Praefect Torbal was wearing an Amulet of Kynareth.

I told the Inspector, “Hate Praefect Torbal if you wish, but he was insane. The outcome of his actions is tragic, but do not dismiss him as evil or worthy of contempt. I expect his remains to be treated with the same respect as your fallen comrades. The same respect should be given to the deceased hunter. He should be interred in a Hall of the Dead, and efforts should be made to find his family. Many hunting camps are nearby, so I suggest you ask other hunters. Understood, Inspector?”

“Yes, Lord Welkynd.”

“We will search the upper cave for the armour. We will let you know if we are successful or not.”

“Will you return it to General Tullis?”

“Not immediately. Lord Akatosh wants me to bring it to him.”

“With all due respect, this is not the time to be jesting.”

“It is no jest, Inspector. Champion of The Divines is not a hollow title.”

I told the group, “Let us do a bit of swimming. I am always curious about what may lie at the bottom of lakes.”

We made out way to the edge of the underground lake.

• Felix: Ahh…how does the dweomer stop us from drowning?
• Rigmor: You breath the water in and out like it was air.
• Vayu: You must overcome your gag reflex. Dhali can tell you how to do that. She is a bit of an expert.
• Dhali: What are you implying, Vayu?
• Vayu: Oh, nothing, Swordmaster Dhali.
• Dhali: Good, I would hate to be disciplined for kicking our Shaman in the nether region.
• Wulf: The first breath is the hardest, Felix. Do not worry about the cold, as the dweomer protects you from it internally and externally.

We dove into the water and swam a short tunnel to a deeper section. I noticed something shining below and dived to inspect it.

It was the ugliest helm I have ever seen, but I knew what it was.

Master Bellamond of The College of Winterhold was obsessed with finding a relic called ‘The Adamantium Helm of Tohan.’ When I asked him why, he said it was the thrill of the chase. He was following many cryptic clues and had done extensive research. He will be shattered to hear I found it without effort.

The helm has a powerful dweomer that increases spell strength and Magicka regeneration.

I looked up, and Felix seemed to be coping well. The dweomer does not require a person to breath in water, but it is best if a beginner does so. Otherwise, panic sets in as the compulsion to breath becomes overwhelming. After several submersions, Felix will realise that others have their mouths closed.

I broke the surface and looked up. Praefect Torbal must have leapt from the land bridge about forty feet above the water.

We returned via the tunnel and then exited the lower cave. I showed the helm to the others, and all confirmed its ugliness. I was relieved to hide it in my Journal Case.

I shooed away a Horker interested in a dead Penitus Oculatus Agent. They have been known to chew on corpses. Why waste a free meal?

The weather was pleasant, and although very steep, Rigmor did not whine about the climb. Via Mara’s Rings, I knew she was still a bit queasy.

At the entrance, I said, “According to the recently deceased Praefect Torbal, there are trolls in this upper cave. I doubt we will encounter anything more sinister than that.”

We entered the cave and soon came across the feature it was named after. A natural but narrow bridge spanned a crevasse. Anybody who fell would not splatter against rocks but splash into a deep and freezing cold pool of water. Torbal had jumped from the bridge to escape the trolls.

A troll blocked the exit and was marked by Lady Kynareth. Since there was plenty of evidence it fed on people, I did not hesitate to dispose of it with Unrelenting Force.

We disposed of a second troll.

Like the wolf den, the home of the trolls had an assortment of bones and corpses. The upper cave had been their home for some time.

We discovered The Lord’s Mail next to a Shrine of Kynareth. Praefect Torbal’s sword was next to the armour.

When I approached, a familiar flash of red emanated from my gem bag and the armour.

I picked up the armour and placed it in my Journal Case.

• Rigmor: Isn’t Lord Morihaus fourteen feet tall?
• Wulf: He certainly is. His wingspan is about eighteen feet.
• Rigmor: That armour looks small, even for an average-sized Minotaur.
• Wulf: You mean those midgets that are only twelve feet tall?
• Rigmor: I am waiting for an explanation.
• Wulf: Morihaus could morph into a Man or Mer. That was lucky for Saint Alessia. When in winged bull form, other parts were bullish in proportion. Ouch!
• Rigmor: That would be blasphemous and weird, even if you were not talking about your mother.
• Wulf: Mother gave birth to a horned baby. Double ouch!
• Rigmor: WULF! Once again, you prove your pervertedness. Is that a word?
• Wulf: Go on, Rigmor, I know you are curious. Ask the question.
• Rigmor: I do not know what you are talking about.
• Wulf: It was so big he would deliberately get excited before a battle so it would scare his enemies.
• Rigmor: That is a big fat fib.
• Wulf: Wrong. They would exclaim, “That is a big, fat dick!”
• Rigmor: I give up. You will never be a gentleman.
• Wulf: And you are not a lady. I have never had us thrown out of an inn.
• Rigmor: Well, that night did not turn out too bad.
• Wulf: Ahh, yes, that was the night you molested me.
• Felix: Should I be blocking my ears?
• Dhali: Wulf wrote of that night in his journals. It was not salacious or titillating but a sensitive description.
• Vayu: I am trained in The Dibellan Arts, and Wulf’s prose was beautiful.
• Dhali: So, Wulf, how big was it?
• Wulf: There are carvings in the museum store room. Some of them are exaggerated. There is no way he could have run, never alone fought, if they were true.
• Rigmor: Why are we talking about the size of Lord Morihaus’ donger?
• Wulf: It is your influence, Countess.
• Felix: Hold on. Did you say you are trained in The Dibellan Arts?
• Vayu: Yes, but I do not entertain ardour-partners anymore. However, I can teach you to paint, dance or write poetry.
• Felix: I did not mean…ahh…forget it!
• Rigmor: I think Felix is starting to realise what an eclectic group of people make up The Dragonguard.
• Dhali: What is next, Lord Weirdo?
• Wulf: We should inform the Penitus Oculatus that we have recovered the armour.
• Rigmor: Oh great. Downhill walks make thunderthighs faster than uphill.
• Wulf: That is not true. But who said anything about walking?

I ran to the edge and leapt off. My splash was impressive. Rigmor yelled, “Wheeee!” and she also made a decent splash. The others soon joined us but with more dignity.

 We swam through the tunnel and emerged near an agent.

“Are you insane? That water is just above freezing!”

“Are you insane, Lord Welkynd?”

“Begging your pardon, Lord Welkynd.”

“Relax. It is a legitimate question. I have placed dweomer on our armours. We did not feel the cold and can breathe underwater.”

“Oh, that would be handy. I am no Nord and am starting to worry about my nether regions freezing off.”

“Please tell Inspector Aquiro we have recovered The Lord’s Armour.  The upper level is clear of threats.”

“I will do so. As we carry our fallen to Dragons Bridge, it will be a solemn procession.”

“Do not be startled.”

“What will startle me?”

I cast teleport, and we heard the agent squeal as we vanished.

We emerged from the ether, barely inside Windhelm’s main gates.

• Wulf: Rigmor, can you remember the first time we came to Windhelm together?
• Rigmor: Knowing your dislike of Stormcloaks, I made you promise to behave yourself.
• Felix: I laughed at that part of Wulf’s journal.
• Wulf: I promised not to kill any Stormcloaks. I kept that promise.
• Rigmor: You beat the shit out of Ulfric’s brother!
• Dhali: The racist turd deserved it.
• Rigmor: Yes, he did. Wulf had to intervene.
• Vayu: Things have changed for the better. A smiling Khajiiti is approaching.
• Wulf: She would have been skinned alive for daring to walk Ulfric’s streets.

I recognised Tsavi. She makes a living guarding pilgrims on their travels, so my encounters with her have been far and wide.

She said, “Lord Welkynd, a very polite and, I think, an elderly gentleman, asked me to pass on a message.”

“A bearded gentleman with piercing blue eyes?”

“Why, yes. Do you know him?”

“Yes, we are like family. Please, Tsavi, what is the message?”

“The plaque to the left of your favourite Nord’s statue is the key.”

“And did he pay you for passing on this message?”

“He gave me a single septim. It is ancient with Tiber Septim’s head and not Mede’s.”

“Never lose that coin, Tsavi. That was Tiber Septim, Lord Talos, who spoke to you. The coin brings good fortune. I had one given to me when I was a child.”

“Has your coin brought you good fortune?”

“Mostly. However, I have ended up being engaged to a spoiled brat, so it is not foolproof.”

“May you walk on warm sands, Lord Welkynd.”

“And may your fleas flee.”

“Haha.”

The effervescent Khajiiti wandered off while staring at her god-given coin.

I looked up at the statue of Ysgramor whilst ignoring Rigmor’s glare.

I asked, “You wouldn’t stab me in the back, would you?”

Rigmor growled, “It is tempting, Dragonbum.”

We walked to a large plaque that commemorated Wulfarth.

It read,

“WULFHARTH OF ATMORA

Reigned 1E 480 – 533

Ysmir, Shor’s Tongue, Dragon of the North and noble champion who defeated the Direnni and cleansed Skyrim of the Alessian Heresy.”

I asked my companions to look closer at the plaque and then try to move it.

After they all took turns pulling, pushing, shaking, rubbing and whatever else they wanted to try, they gave up. It did not budge at all.

I placed my hand on the plaque, which moved upwards without my assistance. Behind it was a velum map and a key.

After retrieving the items, the plaque returned to its original position.

• Wulf: As I thought, the plaque would only respond to a user of the Thu’um.
• Vayu: Or it could be responding to another Shezarrine.
• Dhali: Or another Dragon of The North.
• Rigmor: Perhaps Wulfarth also had a spoiled brat fiancé?
• Wulf: Oh, the poor man!
• Felix: Where do we need to go?
• Wulf: To Dragon’s Fall. It was once a place of learning, like a university. Now, I expect it to be a dull Draugr-filled tomb.
• Vayu: The map is on velum.
• Wulf: Paper would not have lasted this long. But I already had Dragon’s Fall on my map. It is a bit of a walk and north of one of Boethia’s shrines.
• Felix: Do you think anybody has visited since Wulfarth’s demise?
• Wulf: There may have been pilgrims for some time. However, I think it has been sealed since the second era.
• Rigmor: But many candles and sconces will be alight!
• Felix: Thanks. I have finally forgotten that conundrum, and you have reintroduced it.
• Rigmor: A Countess lives to serve.
• Wulf: And to drink all citizens under the table.
• Rigmor: That is a sacred responsibility I might forgo in the future.
• Wulf: Countess Rigmor Ragnarsdottier the Milk Drinker.
• Rigmor: Lord Welkynd the Neutered.
• Dhali: Khajiiti farmers neuter animals with their teeth.
• Rigmor: I would prefer to use a blunt knife.

The main road leading to Morrowind was surprisingly devoid of travellers.

As we passed Hlaalu Farm, Lady Kynareth highlighted Bruin, the farm dog.

I said aloud, “Lady Kynareth, I do not kill domestic dogs. Besides, poor Adisla would be blamed, and Belyn treats her harshly.”

I told the group later, “We turn right at the abandoned house ahead.”

Rigmor asked, “Isn’t that place always full of bandits?”

“Yes, and using Heat Vision and Zoom Vision, I can see a lookout watching us.”

“Weapons sheathed and let them choose their fate.”

“Yep.”

Their fate was decided when a Khajiiti tried to brain me with his hammer.

Seconds later, ten dumb bandits lay dead.

We turned north. Boethia’s shrine and compound lay ahead.

We stopped at the foot of some stairs.

• Wulf: Not long ago, the Ka’Po’Tun and I visited that shrine.
• Dhali: We were curious as to what occurred there.
• Felix: I can hear the clash of weapons.
• Wulf: Boethia’s Faithful, as she calls her minions, practice for months. Then, they fight a melee until one is alive. That person then has the right to challenge Boethia’s Champion.
• Dhali: Wulf warned the cultists, but they were rude and reluctant to follow his advice.
• Wulf: I told them I am Boethia’s Champion and that to test me, she sent ten of her best to fight me. I explained that Boethia’s champions came at me in groups and that killing them all took less than a second each.
• Dhali: They called Wulf a liar and attacked. He disarmed twelve of them in seconds while laughing.
• Wulf: Some of them were not bad and were probably mercenaries.
• Dhali: Boethia also laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound.
• Wulf: Most of them vowed to do as I advised and go home.
• Dhali: Then Wulf told Lady Boethia she needed a different hobby.
• Wulf: I suggested basket weaving, which solicited another laugh.
• Rigmor: I am not interested in getting any closer to that bitch’s shrine.
• Wulf: We will not, milady. The climb gets steeper from here.
• Rigmor: Oh, goody!

Dragon’s Fall could be seen from where we were, and the climb was challenging.

When we reached a steep stairway, Rigmor was not impressed and declared, “Thunderthighs, here I come!”

When we reached the entrance, I turned to the group.

I warned them, “I do not think anybody has entered this place for a long time. Be prepared for anything. If there are Draugr, they will most likely be users of the Thu’um. As per usual, do not get in front of me unless I move to engage. Then you should close on the enemy quickly.”

The key retrieved from Windhelm unlocked the doors.

As soon as we entered, I stopped.

Rigmor asked, “Wulf, what is wrong? I can sense… fear. No, not fear, but you are very concerned.”

“He is awake. I think you all need to stay outside. Let me deal with him.”

“Who is here?”

“The Underking! I do not want any of you to die, so leave. Wait for me outside.”

“No, we will not do that. Wulfarth is not a mage with deadly Destruction spells. He was a warrior, like you, and undead or not, he is no match for us.”

“You do not know that. What about Wulfarth’s Thu’um? What if it is as strong as the stories say? He could turn you all to mush with a single Shout. No, you must leave.”

Dhali explained, “I cannot do bossy big sister as well as Celestine, but I can try.”

“Thank goodness for that blessing.”

Dhali growled and said, “Wulf, I have earned the right to be here by investing in you and your cause, as have the other Dragonguard. Romance, family, and careers have been put on the back burner, so we can be by your side. Do not cheapen those sacrifices by sending me away!”

I looked at the faces of my beloved and friends. I knew they would follow me no matter what I said. I just nodded and, with tears streaming, walked past them, and they fell in behind.

We came upon some skeletons from a battle long ago.

I said, “See the direction of the arrows. These were invaders. But I know little of this place, so I have no idea who they are or why they attacked.”

Not far past the signs of battle, a Thu’um-enhanced voice boomed,

“INTERLOPERS. TRESPASSERS. WHO ARE YOU TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER? LEAVE THIS PLACE OR FOREVER BE CLAIMED BY IT!”

I replied, “I AM NOW YSMIR, DRAGON OF THE NORTH. WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOUR PEOPLE. WE ARE NOT TRESPASSERS BUT SOLDIERS OF THE DIVINES. WE MEAN NO DISRESPECT.”

We waited a few seconds. When no reply came, we continued.

The many banners we saw implied Dragon’s Fall was once dedicated to Arkay. I recall very few scattered references to it in literature. It had been hidden from history. As a resting place of the Underking, that is understandable and wise.

The portcullises and gates we encountered were designed to keep things inside, not prevent our entry.

We travelled for some time before encountering Draugr and Skeletal Warriors.

They were the first of hundreds we would battle in Dragon’s Fall. All were powerful. Most Draugr could use The Voice. Many Skeletal Warriors were spell casters.

Every room and corridor was a battleground. Usually, my companions complain about me clearing most enemies. They were so numerous it did not matter that I killed the majority. The squad also faced lots of opponents.

I stopped and asked, “Does anybody need to rest?”

Nobody did. Fatigue was low thanks to the dweomer on their armour, so we continued the slaughter.

We entered a room with a lectern and prayer mats. On each prayer mat was a copy of ‘Trials of St. Alessia.’

The only other book in the room was, ‘The Amulet of Kings.’

• Felix: Didn’t Wulfarth fight against The Alessian Empire? Why would they show reverence to Saint Alessia?
• Vayu: Felix, you are a victim of inadequate teaching.
• Wulf: At first, the Alessian Empire was cosmopolitan, featuring early Imperials, Ayleids, Nords, and beastfolk among its citizens. Mother standardized the Imperial Pantheon that fused elements of the Altmeri and Nordic Pantheons, becoming the basis for the Imperial Religion of The Eight Divines.
• Vayu: Many Aedra worshipping Ayleid fought beside Saint Alessia during The Slave Rebellion. Therefore, they were allowed to keep their estates and become citizens of The Empire.
• Wulf: In 1E 361, The Alessian Order took control of The Alessian Empire. The Eight were reduced to the level of saints, and The One, a version of Lord Akatosh, was adopted as its official religion.
• Vayu: The Alessian Order were Mer haters. All Ayleids were driven from The Alessian Empire. The cosmopolitan ideology of Saint Alessia was forgotten. Racism and religious intolerance became the mantra of The Alessian Empire.
• Wulf: The history is complex, but when Wulfarth opposed The Alessian Empire, he fought against The Alessian Order and the worship of The One. He did not fight devotees of Saint Alessia or The Eight.
• Vayu: Wulfarth wanted to ensure his soldiers knew why they fought and what he wanted to restore. Teaching the history of Saint Alessia and The Amulet of Kings would be paramount in that education.
• Felix: I see. I cannot recall a distinction between what Saint Alessia wanted and what The Alessian Empire became being taught at school.
• Wulf: It does not help that the soldiers of The Alessian Order called themselves Alessians. Understandably, many people think they represented Saint Alessia when, in fact, they held opposite beliefs and abandoned her pantheon.
• Dhali: Wulf, have you asked your father why he reestablished the worship of The One?
• Wulf: Father rededicated The Temple of The One in The Imperial City to Lord Akatosh and not the monotheistic cult of The Alessian Order. It was not the same.
• Vayu: But again, names cause misconceptions if distinctions are not taught.
• Wulf: If you want to learn the detailed history, I would happily teach you, Felix.
• Felix: I think that may be of benefit.
• Wulf: I am building a museum to teach accurate histories to the masses.
• Rigmor: I wonder what history will say about me?
• Wulf: We already have an entry for you in our library catalogue.
• Rigmor: Careful what you say next, Dragonbum.
• Wulf: Ahem. You look up beautiful, and it redirects with, ‘See Rigmor Ragnarsdottier in these volumes.’ Then, it will list the copious entries extolling your beauty.
• Rigmor: What do you think, Dhali? Should I let him live?
• Dhali: He extricated himself admirably, so give him a chance.

We started to find defeated Draugr and Skeletal Warriors.

• Wulf: I think somebody has been here recently.
• Rigmor: Could they be some of O’s people trying to get Wulfarth’s relic?
• Wulf: That is a possibility. Or they could just be tomb robbers.
• Felix: How would they get this far without leaving earlier signs of battle?
• Wulf: They may have found another way inside and bypassed everything we have encountered.
• Dhali: There is nearly always more than one entrance to these old tombs.
• Vayu: If the density of undead continues, the intruders will not last long, no matter their numbers.
• Wulf: I predict we shall find the remains of people who regretted entering this place.
• Dhali: We find them in many places, Felix. They underestimate the danger, often due to greed overcoming common sense.

The monotony of more rooms, undead and copies of Trials of St. Alessia continued.

Another unresolved mystery presented itself.

• Wulf: Felix, I can make you forget about the mystery of lit candles and sconces.
• Felix: Please!
• Wulf: Who has covered the floor in burning oil and tied ceramic jars of the same oil to the roof?
• Rigmor: Why did the Draugr and skeletons let them do that?
• Dhali: If allies to the undead, it seems strange they would provide us with a means to destroy them.
• Felix: Albatross!
• Wulf: That is the correct answer.

I used the oil and jars to burn our way to the next part of Dragon’s Fall.

We thought we must be getting close to The Underking when he angrily demanded, “BEGONE! I WILL NEVER AGAIN BE MADE THE PAWN OF ANOTHER. I AM THE STORM OF KYNE!”

I replied, “YOU NEED NOT RISE FROM YOUR SLUMBER. LORD AKATOSH REQUIRES A SYMBOL OF KING WULHARTH. THAT IS ALL.”

We were still many hours, hundreds of undead, and miles from The Underking’s resting place.

After eliminating a few dozen Skeletal Warriors, I knew the odds of some of them resurrecting were high. I stopped and turned to the group without saying a word.

After a few seconds, Rigmor asked, “Okay, Dragonbum. Why have you stopped?”

“Oh, I am waiting for you to say, “Cool!”

“Why would I say that?”

On cue, a skeleton to Rigmor’s left started to resurrect.

I pointed to it and said, “Watch.”

The skeleton reassembled itself and then attacked Rigmor.

She laughed and said, “Cool!” before cleaving it in two with her sword.

We continued eliminating undead but also found many we had not eliminated. The intruders were doing well.

There were many simple traps, such as tripwires and pressure plates. I doubt they would eliminate anybody competent enough to make it this far into Dragon’s Fall.

Felix quickly became part of a coordinated team. He soon learned how our skills complemented and combined to be more than their sum.

We came upon recently killed intruders. Vayu and I examined them.

• Wulf: I do not know if they are working for O.
• Vayu: Their backs are broken.
• Wulf: A Two-Word Unrelenting Force from a Draugr will do that. None of the Thu’um users we have encountered here have used Three Word Shouts.
• Felix: How did they get in?
• Dhali: As mentioned earlier, there is nearly always more than one entrance.
• Rigmor: How long have they been dead?
• Vayu: Two days at the most. Rigor Mortis is keeping them upright. A few more days of decomposition will see them collapse.
• Rigmor: If they are the first intruders in centuries, the odds of them entering Dragon’s Fall at this time cannot be a coincidence. Therefore, logically, they are working for O.
• Wulf: That is the most likely scenario.
• Rigmor: What is this? I can hear no snide remarks about my use of logic.
• Wulf: I have encouraged those who travel with me to use logic. I am glad you listened.
• Rigmor: Excuse me. Did you say something, Dragonbum?
• Wulf: I am also pleased you remember my jokes.
• Felix: There must be more of them. These two would not have defeated a single Draugr, never alone the many we have seen killed.
• Wulf: The only place I have seen so many powerful Draugr is inside the tomb where we retrieved Scourge for Boethia.
• Dhali: We have already killed more here.
• Wulf: The bright side is Felix gets to see his Countess in action.
• Felix: She already thrashed me in a few practice sessions, so I am enjoying Rigmor beating up somebody or something else.

We discovered many more intruders. There was nothing to indicate they worked for O or were searching for a relic of Wulfarth. Logically, there was no way for O to know that I needed to collect the relics.

Tedium set in as we encountered more undead, deceased intruders and copies of “Trials of St. Alessia.’

Rigmor even got bored of regenerating skeletons and would cut them down without comment.

Our tedium was briefly relieved when The Underking boomed, “STILL YOU PERSIST? DESTROY THEM! REND THE FLESH FROM THEIR BONES! GRIND THEM TO ASH!”

I replied, “I THINK WE SHOULD TALK A BIT AND GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE TEARING FLESH FROM BONES. HOW ABOUT A MEAD OR TWO IN A NICE TAVERN?”

Oddly enough, The Underking did not accept my offer.

Half a dozen Ash Spawn attacked. They were far weaker than any of the Skeletal Warriors and Draugr.

Felix asked, “Were they Ash Spawn?”

“Yes. Why there are some in Dragon’s Fall is beyond me.”

“Albatross. It is undeniably Albatross.”

Rigmor bemoaned, “Wulf, what have you done to poor Felix?”

“Nothing, and do not worry until he says ‘Cool!’ Then we will know he is beyond help.”

The density of undead increased as we travelled four miles through natural caverns.

Soon after re-entering Dragon’s Fall, we encountered a Nord puzzle.

• Felix: There is no need to say anything, Wulf. I know you hate these things.
• Wulf: There are four rotating columns with three symbols. That means there is a maximum of twelve combinations. No trap goes off when you choose wrong. Therefore, it would have been easy to discover even if they had not provided the combination.
• Felix: Where is the combination?
• Wulf: Look on the back wall.
• Felix: Oh, how idiotic is that?
• Rigmor: Dwarven Puzzle Doors are just as stupid.
• Vayu: This puzzle suggests we are close to The Underking’s crypt.
• Wulf: I agree, so let us get this over with. This place has been almost as dull as Dwemer ruins.

I set the columns and pulled the lever. However, the portcullis only remained raised for a second.

I told Dhali, “There is a pull chain on the other side. If you operate the lever, I will pull the chain and the portcullis should remain raised.”

We did that, and everybody joined me.

I could sense Wulfarth’s presence. It was not long before we reached his crypt.

I turned to the group.

I told them, “I will broker no arguments. I am going to enter the crypt solo. You can watch but do not enter unless I am in trouble. I have some natural resistance to The Voice. Even with my dweomer on your armours, you have none. If The Underking’s Thu’um is even half my strength, he will kill you with a single Shout.”

I walked to Rigmor. She said, “It is the logical thing, my Dragonborn. I will not argue.”

“I can feel your anxiety rising through our rings. I should get this over with.”

I kissed my beloved on the cheek, then entered the crypt.

The Underking pleaded, “I HAVE MORE THAN DONE MY PART FOR SKYRIM! CAN I NOT BE ALLOWED TO REST?”

I replied without Thu’um, “I apologise for disturbing your rest, King Wulfarth. If you tell me where lies The Mantella, I will endeavour to recover it and grant you permanent rest.”

I eliminated eight of the strongest Draugr yet faced. As I cut down the last two, the lid of Wulfarth’s sarcophagus exploded, and he emerged.

He was mist, with two blue eyes peering from the blackness of The Void.

As I approached, Wulfarth used his Thu’um. The Shout surrounded him with Cyclonic Winds. He taught Father that Shout at the Battle for Hroldan. As far as I know, it was the only time Father used The Voice in battle.

I blinked to Wulfarth, knowing he needed time to recover before using another Shout.

Wulfarth asked, “WHAT BINDS MY SOUL TO THIS WRETCHED WORLD? NEED I CLAIM YOURS TO PROVE I AM DESERVING OF THE DEATH I SEEK?”

I answered, “The Divines would grant your death if they knew the whereabouts of The Mantella. My death would not change that unfortunate fact.”

Wulfarth resorted to Destruction spells. They did me little harm. Zurin was a far more powerful mage.

It only took two swipes of my sword to reduce Wulfarth to a pile of glowing ashes.

I searched the ashes and uncovered ugly boots like Ulfric wore.

They had the bear symbol of Windhelm on them and metal claws. A red flash let me know they were the required relic.

I told Rigmor via Mara’s Rings, “The fighting is over. Let us see if there is an exit nearby.”

The squad joined me, and we exited Dragon’s Fall less than ten minutes later. After many hours of constant fighting, we did not mind the snowstorm.

It was about 9:00 AM when I teleported us into the Safehouse.

The others made a beeline for the kitchen and larder while I talked to Rigmor.

I assured her, “Both Underkings are defeated. They may eventually return to their respective crypts, but not today.”

“You will speak to The Herald and then come back.”

“Yes, it should not take long.”

“Dragon’s Fall was by far the longest and most boring place we have tackled together.”

“I feel sorry for Wulfharth. I will tell you about The Mantella another time. But, right now, I want this over with.”

“Then go while I reintroduce myself to greasy bacon and scrambled eggs. They might fear our separation was permanent.”

“I am sure they will understand. No bacon or egg wants to become a multicolour yawn and will appreciate your kind consideration for their wellbeing.”

“I fear your weirdness is contagious. That is acceptable if your sense of humour does not replace mine.”

“On that insult, I will go hither to Sancre Tor.”

I placed the Ayleid Waystone around my neck and was teleported to Sancre Tor.

I informed Rigmor, “There are no malevolent undead greeting me.”

“Shh…Bacon and I are about to have a reconciliation meeting.”

I entered Sancre Tor’s fort and intuitively knew I was not alone. Meeko’s sense of wrongness is keener than mine. However, my sense of wrong has saved me on multiple occasions.

I stood at the top of the stairway and used Heat Vision.

Somebody stood atop a nearby column.

I used Zoom Vision and Night Vision to get a closer look.

It was a male, but a full-face mask hid his race. The armour he wore was Daedric. I could see no other weapon but a bow.

I had looked his way briefly before casually continuing towards the portal. He would not suspect I knew he was there.

I told Rigmor, “There is a single intruder in Sancre Tor’s fort. He is a mortal and probably sent by O.”

“Felix just introduced me to poached eggs. How come I have never had them before?”

“Oh, I thought you would still be apologising to Bacon.”

“I told Bacon to get over it. End of conversation.”

“Ahh, did I mention there was an intruder?”

“There is only one. That is hardly worth intruding upon my breakfast now, is it?”

“No, it is not. Forgive me, Countess.”

Before reaching the portal, a blue barrier appeared and prevented access to it and all exits. The same type of barrier was erected when I talked to The Herald.

When a column blocked the intruder’s view of me, I continued using Heat Vision to keep track of him and then cast Shroudwalk.

I said, “You, standing on the column. I am rather busy, so state your name and business.”

A smarmy voice that instantly made me hate its owner replied, “Yes, you have been a might busy, haven’t you?”

“You are boring me already.” 

“I have come to claim that which we have paid for to be uncovered. I expect you will not give me any resistance, will you?”

“You have not provided a name. Therefore, I shall call you Stupid. Please tell me, Stupid, does O owe you money? Or have you been sleeping with O’s husband or wife? You must have done something to upset them. Why else would they send you to your death?”

“Just place the amulet fragments on the floor and leave. They are straightforward instructions. Therefore, even a person such as yourself should understand them. Or perhaps the cold of Skyrim had dulled your wits?”

“Sancre Tor has raised its barriers. It does not want you to leave here alive, and I will be honoured to fulfil its desire.”

“I grow so weary of this game, but I suppose I could be persuaded to engage in another. Let us see how you enjoy it.”

Stupid leapt from the column and drew his bow. I stepped from behind the column, but he could not see me without detecting auras or body heat.

I said, “I do not have any amulet fragments, you idiot. I have shards of the Chim-el Adabal and a new setting. As for my wits… can you read and speak nine languages? Are you a Master Mage in the five Schools of Magicka? Can you remember, word for word, over two thousand books? Even a person such as yourself should realise that they are a mental midget compared to me.”

Stupid summoned a Death Knight, but it was stuck behind the barrier and could be ignored.

I Blinked away as Idiot fired his bow to where my voice had come from.

I laughed and said, “I am not there anymore. I am here!”

Stupid did a form of Blinking and reappeared in the distance.

I mocked him and asked, “Is that a Bow of Shadows? I eliminated The Underking and all the undead in Sancre Tor. They would have killed you in minutes. Thousands have fallen to me in battle, including Alduin. I have travelled miles through Oblivion several times and outwitted gods, yet you think a pretty bow makes you a match for me. Your metal friend would die with a single use of The Voice, and so would you. But I am enjoying this game, and I thank you for inviting me to play.”

It seemed his bow only allowed him to Blink every thirty seconds. I kept taunting him, and he became increasingly frantic.

After several more teleports, I Blinked next to Stupid and said, “It was fun for a while. However, I have grown weary of this game. It is time for you to die.”

I sliced Stupid almost in two, and he dropped the bow.

Before his body hit the ground, he vanished. He must have had a Ring of Recall on him.

I picked up his weapon, and it was a Bow of Shadows. There used only to be one, but several appeared after a couple of Dragon Breaks. Auryen will add a replica to our museum exhibits.

The Death Night collapsed when its summoner fell. The barrier vanished.

Rigmor asked, “What has kept you so amused for the last five minutes.”

“I was playing hide and seek with the intruder. Eventually, I got bored and killed him.”

“Was he one of those morons who boasted how he would kill you?”

“He thought he could, so I named him Stupid. My Dovah is better at taunts, but I am improving.”

“Well then, go visit The Herald. Meanwhile, I will stare at my second round of poached eggs that are almost ready.”

I stepped into the portal and instantly appeared in the pocket plane.

The Herald of Akatosh was already present.

“Greetings, Herald of Akatosh.”

“The blood of the mother and the breath of the father are carried by the one who is bound to both. You have brought forth symbols of the seven, and as such, the shards of the Chim-El Adabal will be rejoined, and The Amulet of Kings shall be reforged.”

“Will Saint Alessia’s Consciousness be made whole once more?”

“No, there are other tasks you need to complete before that desired outcome is achieved. However, the sliver trapped within the shattered Chim-el Adabal will rejoin her soul and help the fight she undertakes for all.”

“The Oversoul will be lost, but what functions of The Amulet of Kings will return?”

“The Covenant of Akatosh has been replaced by Martin Septim’s sacrifice and will not return. The Amulet of Kings will reinforce Nirn by bringing breath and blood to the White-Gold Tower again. It will continue to recognise the blood of Saint Alessia but have no part in determining the Divine Right to Rule.”

“Does Lord Akatosh accept me as Dragonborn even though he did not bless me?”

“Dragonchild is the term The Nine have attached to you. You carry Lord Akatosh’s blessing, and I called you his child when we first met. You are Dovahkiin.”

“What else am I?”

“You are also Ningheim, and you are one of seven. That is all I am allowed to reveal at this stage. Your father will not tell you. We have worked around his understandable aids to his son, but he will not risk further breaches.”

“Am I the seventh Shezarrine?”

“I can reveal no more.”

“How does Rigmor fit in with this?”

“You know that both of you are essential in overcoming The Obscurity. Unfortunately, Rigmor’s life has been full of extreme hardship. But we cannot do anything directly and rely on mortal agents and sometimes subtle manipulation. The seventeen who did not join us in creation use the same tools, although they are not so subtle.”

“What is next?”

“Behold as Lord Akatosh repairs The Amulet of Kings.”

I move back and watch as The Amulet of Kings appeared and floated above Dragonfire.

The Dragonfire slowly faded after I retrieved The Amulet of Kings.

I said, “Herald, I am humbled.”

“Understandably. Now I must take my leave. But first, I give you the power of the Dragonsoul Forge. The blue flame of the forge will allow you to give material form to the essence and power of the Dovah you have defeated.”

“I have over twenty souls absorbed, yet no knowledge have they provided. That whole process is not of my liking.”

“And Kynareth took pity. But here is a chance to at least put their souls to use. Each soul can be used to create a Soul Ingot. With Soul Ingots, you can rework the offerings you brought into a true visage of the Dovahkiin and matching weapons. Dweomer that you place on the armour and weapons will be superior to any you can place on others.”

“I might eventually create the armour and weapons, but I must decide about using them. I know how to smith items from Dragonbone and Dragonscale, but I have decided not to do so. Wearing Dragonbone armour would be like donning leather armour made from my brother’s skin. I have similar reservations about items made from Dragonsouls.”

“Is it better that the souls go unused? Wouldn’t the Dragonsoul armour and weapons give more meaning to their elimination from time?”

“They are some of the arguments I must consider, Herald of Akatosh.”

“I bestow this knowledge unto you. With it, you shall take your rightful place amongst the seven.”

“You do realise that I will lose sleep over the meaning of that?”

“I have some advice from our father. You now know how to create a relic of your own. We suggest you name the greaves ‘Grasp of the Qahnaarin’.”

“Vanquisher? Hmm… pretentious, but I will do as suggested.”

“Lord Talos said that would be your reaction. He knows you well.”

“I wish I could say the same about him.”

“Use these gifts wisely. They are from The Nine, not just Lord Akatosh. Now go forth, one of seven. The wheel still turns, and your prophecy is yet unfulfilled.”

“Prophecy is just another possibility.”

“You wonder if you know your father. Your scepticism is also one of his most endearing traits.”

The Herald of Akatosh teleported away. It would have been more spectacular if he flew away and slowly disappeared in the distance.

The Dragonsoul Forge came to life.

“You have done well, Son. It seems to be a habit of yours.”

I turned and gasped. Mother stood before the portal.

Speechless, I walked up to her, and tears came unbidden.

She said, “Valdr, my soul calls for this small sliver to return. I have but a short time before nature forces that reunion.”

“Are you flesh?”

“Yes, as your father’s avatar is in Aetherius.”

I stepped forward and surprised Mother with the hug I had yearned for since the day she left to confront Bal.

Mother said, “It is a pity you wear a helm. It makes it difficult to ruffle your hair.”

“Can you visit Father?”

“No. This avatar cannot travel to where my beloved is.”

I stepped back and smiled. Mother smiled back and said, “Remember, Valdr, love is all-powerful. With it, you and Rigmor can overcome any obstacle, including The Obscurity. Ask your father about Barenziah and learn how love often demands sacrifice.”

Mother faded, and I was alone. The pocket plane became unbearable, but I persevered long enough to visit the Dragonsoul Forge.

I decided not to create any armour or weapon. I can always return if I change my mind.

I wanted to speak to Father, so I stepped through the portal.

I then made my way to Father’s shrine.

Walking towards the shrine, I noticed the Blade spectres were gone.

I stood before the shrine and contacted Rigmor via Mara’s Rings.

“I am waiting for Father’s avatar to appear.”

“You seem, I dunno, content or satisfied.”

“I got to hug Mother.”

“Wow! Tell me everything later. I want to spend the rest of the day in Breezehome.”

“That is a deal. I might only have a day or two before heading into Evermore.”

Father emerged from the ether.

“Father is here. I will see you soon.”

I walked over to Lord Talos, who I towered over. Mother is taller than him, and it is from her I inherited my height.

I told Father, “Mother visited me for a short time. I got to hug her!”

“That would have required great willpower on her behalf.”

“I am sure she would have liked to visit you.”

“That sliver of her soul did not have enough Lifeforce to allow the crossing from that pocket realm.”

“Then how will it return to her soul, wherever that is?”

“Now you are touching on metaphysics that we do not fully understand.”

“Do I get to ask the questions that have been forbidden?”

“Yes, you are now ready for the truth.”

“Am I the son of the mortal Tiber Septim or the God called Talos? Am I the son of the mortal woman Al-Esh or the God called Saint Alessia?”

“You were conceived and birthed no different than any other mortal. Love was the catalyst. Therefore, does it matter if we were gods or mortals at the time?”

“It matters when I need to define myself.”

“Most of our souls were within the flesh and blood avatars on the island. They were not mortal but bled, sweated, and performed all the other bodily functions of a mortal.”

“But you never slept.”

“No, that was pleasure denied us by the metaphysics involved.”

“Which is true, the orthodox or heretical teachings about your life and origin?”

“The truth can be found within a specific combination of both. I was born in Atmora and named Hjalti. I regard myself as Atmoran, as that was the land of my birth. By blood, I am half Breton and half Imperial.”

“What are your parent’s names?”

“Father’s name is Laouig Le Gleau. He was born into a minor noble house in Alcaire. At sixteen, he became a member of The Alcaire Knights. He rose through the ranks to Knight Commander. After the heroics of Sir Byric in 2E 252, the order was renamed The Knights of the Flame.”

“Sir Le Gleau is a very Bretonic name.”

“Indeed, it is. Mother’s name is Mikaela Naner, and she was also born a noble. Her family owned an influential trading company. They had quite a large fleet that operated from the island of Stirk’s Ayleid-made port.”

“That is not far from Anvil, and I assume it was as racially diverse as the rest of The Gold Coast.”

“Indeed, the small population of Stirk at that time consisted of Abecean Colovs, Bretonic Colovs, Bretons, Redguard Abeceans, Redguards, Colovian Bosmer and Nords. There were no poor on Stirk. All families on the island were wealthy merchants.”

“Now it is a pirate stronghold.”

“Father met mother when she was visiting High Rock for an extended period. She represented her family in trade negotiations, and my father was assigned as one of her guardians. They fell in love, but Mother’s father refused to sanctify their marriage. He had promised Mother to an influential trader from Morrowind.”

“I cannot but feel disgusted at arranged marriages.”

“As you should, for it is not what Lady Mara desires.”

“I assume they did marry.”

“Yes. Father resigned from the Altair Knights, and they got married a year after they met. Almost a year later, my elder brother Agnorith was born. Soon after his birth, Mother’s entire family was assassinated. Many families related by marriage to the Naner were also assassinated. The heirs to the Camoran Throne began to fight over Valenwood’s throne. One of the heirs ordered the assassinations as Father’s company openly supported a rival. That is all I could discover when investigating it. It no longer matters, for that is in the distant past, and I no longer pursue the truth.”

“Eliminating the families of in-laws suggests that hate more than economics was the motivation.”

“Perhaps, but whatever the reason, Father would not wait for assassins to find his family. Halirim Jorian, an Altmer friend, told him of a large colony in the centre of Atmora. Those tired of wars and persecution in its many forms lived there. Halirim and his family accompanied my family on an arduous journey across Atmora’s frozen wasteland. It was a great risk, especially with an infant child, but Father thought it their only option.”

“It was in 1E 68 that the last recorded ships arrived from Atmora. Had that colony remained hidden for thousands of years?”

“The centre of Atmora was temperate and consisted of rolling hills and vast forests. It was an unknown paradise until The Thrassian Plague started decimating the population of Tamriel. Jo’mada, a Khajiiti scholar, found references to an expedition that discovered the paradise a hundred years earlier. However, the accounts were dismissed as fantastical lies and no subsequent investigations were undertaken. Jo’mada spoke to a rich merchant family that was already losing members to the plague. They sponsored a new expedition, and Jo’mada rediscovered the paradise. By the time he returned to Elsweyr, the sponsoring family were all deceased. Jo’mada was concerned that The Thrassian Plague was changing the political balance of Tamriel, and ancient hatreds were at the fore. So, he told a few close friends, who then told others about the paradise. They were the first inhabitants of Old Atmora. Careful recruitment occurred, and eventually, a population of several thousand inhabited Old Atmora.”

“It does sound like paradise!”

“Indeed, Man, Mer, Argonian and Khajiiti lived in harmony. It was an ideal hiding place, and I was born there in 2E 828.”

“I can see where a problem may arise. Every time its location was communicated, there was a chance the wrong type of person would find out about Old Atmora.”

“That is what happened. Rumours of Old Atmora reached the ears of a pirate king. However, like many word-of-mouth stories, what he heard was distorted. He was convinced it was rich in gold and ebony, and he banded together with other pirates to invade Old Atmora. Few warriors were amongst the population, and Father was the only one with command experience. He led the defence, and his only aim was to give Old Atmora’s citizens a chance to flee. Hundreds of innocents fled across the frozen wasteland, including Mother, Agnorith and me. My mother was one of the many who did not survive that desperate journey.  As she took her last breaths, Halirim promised Mother that he would provide for her children. Fortunately, the pirate fleet had anchored away from a sheltered cove where most migrant ships remained. Only a hundred or so residents of Old Atmora reached that cove. Two of Halirim’s four children did not. Of the six ships that sailed, ours was the only one that reached a friendly port. Halirim decided on Alcaire for our new home, as some of my father’s family lived there. Alcaire was also very cosmopolitan. I was nearly four years of age when we finally arrived. My memories of my parents are, therefore, limited. Much information came from my older brother.”

“The Arcturian Heresy calls Alcaire an island kingdom. That makes the rest of it suspect, for Alcaire has always been ruled by a lord and is on the mainland.”

“I regard myself as Atmoran, for that was the land of my birth. But Alcaire claims to be my place of birth, and its citizens celebrate Tibedetha, middle Tamrielic for Tiber Day, on the 24^th of Midyear. They have my birth date correct, just not its location.”

“You claim to be Atmoran due to your place of birth. The Bretons claim you are one of them as you grew up there. Most citizens of Tamriel would call you Imperial due to your mother’s race. So, in some ways, all the histories are correct.”

“All except the ones that claim I am a Nord.”

“You know the names and other information about your parents. So do I. Mother is not so fortunate.”

“Perrif does not know her parents’ race. She is certain at least one of them was a Nede. She was born into slavery, a daughter of enslaved people, in Sard, now called Sardavar Leed. A wet nurse was chosen for her abundant milk production and had no emotional connection to the infant she suckled. No doubt records were kept, as breeding enslaved people was more profitable if the parents we of good pedigree. Nearly all Ayleid writings were destroyed, which meant Perrif had no way of discovering who her parents were.”

“Why, out of all her many names, did you choose to call her Perrif.”

“I quite liked Paravania, but that was Morihaus’ favourite, so we decided it best to pick another.”

Father laughed, and it was easy to see the mortal in him.

I asked, “Is it awkward speaking to Lord Morihaus?”

“No, Son. He had his time with Perrif and does not begrudge she chose me. They loved each other dearly, but both changed upon Apotheosis.”

“How did you end up leading armies?”

“The Alcaire Knights were revered and a presence I could not ignore. I found a way to sneak into the practice yards when I was twelve. I watched in awe as the knights trained with many different weapons there. They noticed me from the first day but decided to see how dedicated I was. Whether rain, hail or sunny, I would sit and watch for hours. After four months of this, I made the mistake of laughing when a recruit ended up on his arse when he offered the wrong defence to a Swordmaster’s attack. The recruit came storming towards me, face red with anger and embarrassment.”

“What was he? Sixteen years of age? In his armour, no doubt. What did you do?”

“He would have towered over me by eighteen inches if I bothered standing. I sat and waited for the tirade. He called me not very complimentary names, including commoner trash, and tried to push me off my seat. I grabbed his hand and bent it so he cried in pain. I then stood, grabbed his arm firmly, and flipped him over my back. He made a terrific clang when he hit the ground, which attracted the eyes of everybody. The Swordmaster who had bested him threw me one of the dulled practice swords. The recruit stood and, with little skill and much anger, attacked. I parried, then smacked him on the helm with my pommel. That was quite difficult as I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach.”

“You did that to me more than once and laughed yourself silly each time while Mother scolded you.”

“I was reliving fond memories, so Perrif’s scorn was worthwhile.”

“What happened next?”

“They dragged the unconscious recruit away for medical treatment. The Swordmaster wanted to know who I was. When I replied that I was Hjalti Le Gleau, son of Knight Commander Le Gleau, he turned white and was speechless for several seconds. He then ordered me to follow him as if I was already a squire. He knew of the assassinations and thought it too dangerous for me to use the name Le Gleau. I explained I had been using Jorian, the name of the Altmer family I lived with. I was made a squire and, after a few months, was nicknamed Early-Beard, for my whiskers were growing at a steady rate before bodily hair sprouted elsewhere.”

“Ahh…thanks for that unwanted detail.”

“You are welcome.”

“How did an Alcaire Knight end up fighting for King Cuhlecain?”

 “I was made a Knight Errand a week after my sixteenth birthday. That was usually the entry age for novices! Not long after that, King Cuhlecain of Falkreath sent flyers all over Tamriel and other lands, offering excellent wages, citizenship, and genuine chances of promotion in the new army he was building. My stipend as a squire and Knight Errand was not much, and I sent it all to Halirim. He was an excellent farmer, but they lost everything when they fled Old Atmora. He and some of his children worked as farmhands, desperately trying to save enough to purchase a farm of their own.  I thought I would work as a soldier for a while and send most of my wages to my adoptive parents. I figured they would soon save enough to purchase the farm they yearned for. As a Knight Errand, I was free to travel. That is why I went to Falkreath and enlisted in Cuhlecain’s army.”

 “You were not a mercenary.”

“No, I signed on as an enlisted soldier for seven years.”

“Is that where you learned to lead others?”

“I was given no special treatment as a Knight Errand. Once I joined Cuhlecain’s army, I was a raw recruit with no more privileges than farmer’s sons and other civilians. However, it soon became apparent that my martial skills were superior to almost anybody else recruited into his army. I was then picked for officer training. Many veterans of different races taught me strategy and logistics. Even though they were new to me, I soon excelled in both. During my first battles, it was shown I was good at killing. Later, when given a command, I became a natural leader. I quickly worked my way up the ranks of King Cuhlecain’s army. Although I learned much from the older soldiers, I also developed new tactics and strategies. They were innovative and effective, allowing me to become a general at a very young age.”

“There are various accounts of how you defeated the Nord and Breton forces here at Sancre Tor.”

“My army was small, inexperienced, poorly equipped, and short of rations. It could never have sieged Sancre Tor for long and had no hope of penetrating its defences. However, I had received a vision of recovering The Amulet of Kings from Reman III’s tomb, which gave me hope that victory would somehow be achieved. I told you once that somebody showed us a secret way into the fort. He was a Breton Sorcerer, so naturally, historians call him a turncoat. In a way, he was, but more importantly, he was a mortal agent of Lord Akatosh. I asked amongst my troops who could climb, for the entrance was high up, protected by an ‘unclimbable’ cliff. The Nord and Breton forces laughed at the pitiful army arrayed before them. As instructed, my troops taunted the enemy, knowing that the Nords could not tolerate such disrespect. As we climbed, we heard the horns and then war cries of the enemy who sortied to eliminate my pathetic and rude, ragtag army.  Fifty of us started the climb. Thirty-five of us survived it. That was enough warriors to overwhelm the fort’s nobles, officers, and guards. My army fought bravely but was almost eliminated before those we had captured called for a ceasefire and then surrendered.”

“I believe you released the Breton soldiers. Some histories say you killed them all or sold them into slavery.”

“Slavery is an abomination. Some Breton nobles, mages mostly, committed atrocities on their way to Sancre Tor. They were executed. The Breton troops were disarmed and escorted to High Rock’s border. The Nords joined forces with me.”

“And here is where Lord Akatosh blessed you.”

“Yes. I felt no change in myself but could then read the Dovahzul that is in abundance throughout this fort. I knew no Shouts or Words of Power.”

“Did you know of your Dragonblood before then?”

“No. Its importance had diminished over time, so the lineage was not carefully recorded. The ability to wear The Amulet of Kings proved I was a descendant of Perrif.”

“What happened at the Battle of Old Hroldan?”

“Wulfharth did not drag himself from Aetherius to visit the Greybeards and get killed for his insolence. Neither was he summoned by them. He appeared within my tent the night before the battle for Old Hroldan and taught me my first complete Shout. I think we both know who would have sent him. The rest is accurately described in most texts.”

“Are you the Enantiomorph, the over-soul of Tiber Septim and Zurin Arctus?”

“The Enantiomorph is a false theory of mortal minds. So, no, I am not a combination of Tiber Septim and Zurin Arctus. I advise you to regard anything Vivec said with a grain of salt.”

“Did you mantle Lorkhan?”

“Mantling is, like the Enantiomorph, imaginary metaphysics. So, the answer is no.”

“Are you an avatar of Lorkhan?”

“I know Silah explained what a Shezarrine is. So yes, I was Shezarrine, and no, that did not make me an avatar of Lorkhan. Our souls are not copies of his and have existed across many kalpa. He never informs a mortal that he has bestowed his blessing. If you are the seventh, as Lord Akatosh claims, then I am at a loss as to who all the other six are. I am sure Zurin was one.”

“Did you murder Emperor Cuhlecain?”

“No. The Greybeards, via Kyne and Paarthurnax, were told a prophecy that I would become Emperor. Like you, I had no ambition to sit upon that uncomfortable throne. The manipulations of mortal and immortal politics put me there. I was ruthless in war but never a murderer.”

“So, you did not kill Wulfarth?”

“Of course not. I believe Zurin lured him into a trap and tried to murder him. I did not.”

“Did you send The Numidium to kill entire families who held no animosity towards you or ambitions to remove you from The Ruby Throne?”

“I used that thing as a big stick to force surrender without war. There are no records of it being used in many battles because it was not. After a few demonstrations of its power, it was no longer required. I am guilty of forcing the removal of many Khajiiti from their lands so that The Numidium could be reconstructed secretly. It became autonomous and decided on who and what posed a threat. The souls of the two mortals who would become the Underkings were trapped within the Mantella that powered it. Perhaps that was the cause of its unnecessary violence. I am responsible for those murders, for I ordered the abomination’s reconstruction, but I never gave it those orders. Did I invade Hammerfell or Morrowind? The way those two provinces became members of The Empire should tell you I did not use brute force when subtler and less violent means were available.”

“Did you make Barenziah abort your child?”

“There had been concoctions available for millennia before then that could have aborted the child. Barenziah would not even know it had been slipped into a drink or meal. So, Son, ask yourself this. Why would I force the woman I loved to suffer an unwilling abortion via Magicka? If I did such a thing, would Lady Mara support my ascension to godhood?”

“You would not do such a thing, and Lady Mara would not be pleased with anybody who did. I never believed those accusations, but I only get the truth now.”

“Those who accused me of such a thing never said who I was protecting! What heir to the throne did they think was endangered by the child? What happened to that heir, and who was the mother? The only heir to the throne was the child Barenziah carried. There is no record of Pelagius’s parents. The writings that call him my son and not grandson are correct. We decided to let the birth proceed. However, Barenziah knew she was needed elsewhere after delivery but could not leave her child and me. She asked for the knowledge of Pelagius’ birth and blood relationship to be erased. A spell was cast via a Sybil that erased those memories. As with all things a Sybil does and says when controlled by Lady Dibella, she did not remember the spell or of casting it. People knew Barenziah had been pregnant, so we could not simply say nothing. The story of the forced abortion was substituted. That eliminated the chance of Barenziah remaining in love with me. It did not stop me from loving her.”

“Mother wanted me to ask about Barenziah. Now I know why. You made a great sacrifice allowing Barenziah to believe those lies and move away, despising you. I do not know if I could do the same.”

“It took tremendous courage from Barenziah as well as me. She lived a full life, but I never loved another.”

“Please explain Pelagius’ age when he became emperor. It seemingly counters your claim of his parentage.”

“You are not the first to use your room in Aetherius. Pelagius spent years there, learning what he could about diplomacy and the running of The Empire. People thought he was elsewhere on Nirn learning the same skills. That was the information fed by mortal agents and believed by all. Pelagius was a strong but fair ruler and well-liked by Tamriel’s citizens. I was not yet a Divine when he was assassinated. Even if I were, no mortal agent reported the danger. The Morag Tong have interfered with The Empire too many times. Pelagius and Barenziah were reunited in Aetherius. It does not matter she held him for the briefest of moments, for she was his mother, and the bond was strong.”

“I have two half-brothers I would like to meet.”

“You know that loved ones and family already in Aetherius shouldn’t meet the living. The dead can seem strange and unlike the memories of the living. Apart from love, there is little in common until all are deceased.”

“Yes, I know, but we shall embrace as brothers one day.”

“We can share a meal as an extended family. I have heard the roasts in Sovngarde are terrific!”

“Ahh…no. You never planned to be the Ninth Divine, did you?”

“No. Most of those who believe in the Enantiomorph also believe I planned my apotheosis before death. The truth is, I was dead for almost two centuries before the prospect was put to me. I strengthen The Wheel so that interfering mortals such as The Thalmor cannot undo linear time. They know I am a Divine.”

“You are an unexpected barrier to their plans. They are now scrambling to find a solution to your presence.”

“Does that sound familiar, Son?”

“I understand why much of this was kept from me. Answering a few questions would not have satisfied my need to know my heritage and allow me to define what I am. I have always known who I am.”

“Which is?”

“I am a mortal whose parents smothered him in love and taught by example, not rote. A simple childhood without luxuries and surrounded by everyday people instilled in me a love for the citizens of not only that small island next to Roscrea but all mortals. The labels and blessings I have been given do not define who I am. I am a product of nurture, not nature.”

“The Divines will be pleased you have recognised that truth. Lady Mara says you may be sorely tested in Evermore. I hope these revelations will aid you in the difficult times ahead.”

“I am intrigued by the information I have already gleaned about Evermore. Hopefully, I can learn far more before crossing the border.”

“There is a question you are yet to ask.”

“There are many, but they can wait. I want to know what happened to the Blade spectres.”

“Their duty is complete, and they moved on to Aetherius, or wherever their chosen Afterlife is. The barriers you saw when entering this fort will protect it from now on. Only those with Dragonblood will be allowed to traverse its halls. Zurin may return, but he can no longer lay a curse upon Sancre Tor.”

“Oh, one other thing.”

“Just like a certain child, I knew once. Question after question after question.”

“Did Halirim Jorian purchase a farm?”

“Yes, and his descendants still farm around Alcaire.”

“Thank you, Father. My mind is at ease, and I will be ready for whatever Evermore sends my way.”

I removed the Ayleid Waystone and appeared inside the Safehouse.

I walked over to Rigmor with The Amulet of Kings around my neck.

Rigmor exclaimed, “I did not think it would be that big!”

“That is what all the ladies say when seeing me naked for the first time.”

“Yeah, right. Pffft!”

“I will speak to Auryen, then come and get you.”

I wore The Amulet of Kings when I entered the museum.

A guard told me Auryen was in his bedroom.

I knocked on the door. Auryen opened it, saw The Amulet of Kings, and then stood with mouth agape.

“Yes, Auryen, it is The Amulet of Kings.”

“Oh my! That is amazing, my friend, truly astonishing. You have managed to reforge The Amulet of Kings.”

“Lord Akatosh reforged it.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that is more accurate. Anyway, what did The Herald say?”

“Lots of things, but the relevant one was this. The six represented by the offerings are six of seven. I am the seventh. Or, as The Herald called me, ‘one of seven’.”

“Did he? That is interesting… I will have to think about that… a lot! Did he say anything about The Covenant?”

“We both knew it was not going to be renewed. Martin’s sacrifice replaced it. He did say, quote, ‘The Amulet of Kings will reinforce Nirn by bringing breath and blood to the White-Gold Tower.’”

“Interesting. We can keep faith that Martin Septim’s sacrifice will hold, and Oblivion will forever be sealed from Mundus.”

“Auryen, you know The Liminal Barrier is weakening and will eventually fail. Something other than this amulet will be needed to stop the decay or replace the barrier. If The Divines have a plan, I am unaware of it.”

“It is good that the reinforcements that the ancient Ayleid put in place to strengthen the tower will renew. It seems they prevented the complete collapse when the amulet was originally destroyed. Fascinating!”

“The Chim-el Adabal is the Stone of the White-Gold Tower. If I were to take The Amulet of Kings near the tower, some of the destruction would be repaired. It is something I must try one day.”

“Can we make a replica for the museum?”

“Yes, but not even our artisans will handle the original. I shall make detailed sketches and list the dimensions. The original will be stored somewhere that Daedra worshippers cannot go.”

“Did you learn anything else?”

“Father told me his story. Much of what is written about him is wrong. Many of the mortal theories of metaphysics are garbage. However, I cannot correct the narrative until my identity is no longer hidden.”

“I look forward to that.”

“You must have an opinion on what this ‘one of seven’ gobblygook is all about.”

Auryen thought briefly, then replied, “Oh, I would not concern yourself with it now. It is an entirely more convoluted topic than the one we just finished delving into. Perhaps another time.”

“I am more than capable of keeping up with the convolutions, Auryen.”

“I believe it involves the nature of the towers. I am afraid it is like reading The Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec while intoxicated.”

“Who would read them sober?”

“Hahaha, that is too right.”

“There are eight towers, not seven if you accept Coral Tower as one of them. I am also aware of the nature of each tower.”

“My suspicion is only conjecture now. Several of us will have sleepless nights pondering the meaning of The Herald’s words.”

“I have some items for the museum. I found a few first editions in Sancre Tor. A bunch of weapons. The Adamantine Helm of Tohan. Sir Jesto’s Patchwork Cloak.”

“Oh, did you meet Sir Jesto?”

“Yeah, he was hanging around Sancre Tor. Literally. He committed suicide when he found himself trapped by the undead.”

“He always took risks. It is not a surprise but sad nonetheless. I will tell you his story one day.”

“See you soon, Auryen.”

I returned to the Safehouse and collected Rigmor.

Breezehome has an ambience conducive to relaxing and chatting. In front of a roaring fire after a hearty meal, my fiancé and I talked for hours about what I had learned.

In summary, I am Wulf, a mortal blessed by many gods. I am a unique individual, not a copy of another being. My destiny is my own, even if forced to detour as I aid the mortals of Nirn. I will marry Rigmor, and we shall be parents in a time of peace. That is how these journals will end, and my life will be remembered.