Sundas, the 5th of Frost Fall, 4E201

Alright, so I hate this place already.

I woke up… or rather, I came to my senses hammering away, chiseling some kind of pillar and muttering some weird… mantra. After looking around for a few moments, I found Serana doing the same right next to me, so I shook her awake. Sadly, the same thing didn’t work for the rest of the people around us.

All of them were just… mindless slaves, chanting the same words in unison. Like they were being controlled by something.

Or someone.

Whoever this damned temple belongs to.

Down at the base of the temple was a large black stone, radiating with some kind of energy. I faintly heard the mantra again when I touched it, so I guess it came from here. It has a small amount of ornamentation, so I’d wager it’s a totem.

Ah, and there was also this girl, Frea.

She introduced herself as a warrior from the Skaal Village - Skaal being the ethnic Nords of Solstheim living on the northern side of the island in seclusion. According to herself, the totem is actually some kind of relic of the singular Atmoran god they worship, All-Maker, and it’s actually called the Tree Stone - along with it, there are 5 others similar to it.

And the mantra I’ve been hearing is actually magical corruption spread by none other than Miraak.

Gods, this guy is already getting on my nerves.

We went into the Temple together, the three of us. While for the first few minutes it didn’t feel all too impressive, at one point we got quite a demonstration of how self-centered Miraak was. Or, well, at least on his nature of being Dragonborn.

In one of the halls, there was a whole damn dragon skeleton hanging from the ceiling. No, seriously. Why in the world would you even do that? It must’ve been such a pain to set up!

Ah, and I almost forgot. There was a word wall next to it, too. I think that touching it triggered the coffins to open and some ebony-clad draugr general walked out, but I couldn’t really care less.

Now, the word was interesting.

It was Mul - strength. It was the strength of a dragon’s tail, its jaw, its raw power. It’s… probably the first time I’ve seen a word so vague. The name of the shout echoed in my mind faintly.

“Dragon Aspect.”

From thereon, the temple seemed to become more bizarre. For instance, at some point we started seeing… weird statues.

Like, okay, I don’t mean statues of himself or something (although I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility, considering this is the guy building an entire temple to himself), but it was… something strange. Otherworldly, even. They looked kind of like fish heads, but somehow uncanny.

Guess we’re finally getting to the deeper parts.

Okay, update on the dragon skeleton bullshit - as much as Miraak feels like a pain in the ass, he has good taste in interior decoration. Probably the most impressive underground temple I’ve seen.

If only there weren’t so many draugr, ugh…

“It’s… a book.” Serana stated, sheathing her weapons. “Is this what we came here for, Skaal?”

The blonde warrior stepped forward, examining the room. Her expression was focused and… troubled. She turned to Saya, beckoning her over.

“This book is not a usual one. There are definitely dark magics at work here… and they’re undeniably similar, if not the same, as the ones that corrupted the Tree Stone. Be careful.”

Saya raised an eyebrow under her mask. “So… I’m the one reading it, as usual? Alright then.”

The Dunmer stepped towards the book, looking at it. She suddenly felt rather… hesitant. The book was large and incredibly old. It’s cover was black as pitch with a barely-seen emblem at the front.

“...Hermaeus Mora.” She muttered. Of course. “It’s one of his Black Books.”

Frea furrowed her brows. “You know of Herma-Mora? Have you encountered him?”

Snorting, the Dragonborn responded. “More like he encountered me. I needed the help of one of his servants, and the old man asked for help in return. Now, according to the prince himself, I’m his ‘champion’, whatever that means.”

Serana crossed her arms while Frea looked at Saya like she was a demon.

“...I assume that happened before I was around?” The vampire inquired, sounding rather unamused.

“Actually, yesterday. Remember when I said I needed to go in the morning? Yeah, had to give something back to that old guy. Lost his marbles ages ago, by the looks of it.” She looked in her backpack, pulling out the Oghma Infinium. “Got this thing from Hermaeus. Promised me knowledge about the universe if I read it and find all of his Black Books and kill Miraak, who is his champion. Ain’t that fun, huh?”

The book looked faded and half-transparent, and so the girl hid it in her pack again. Stretching, she reached for the cover of the Black Book.

“Anyways… I’m going in. Sorry in advance if I get possessed and... shout one of you into a wall or something.”

With that, she opened the book and black lines of text stretched out towards her, the ink spilling and wrapping around itself, creating thick black tendrils that grasped her tightly around her arms and head, forcing her to read.

The two Nords, alarmed, swung their weapons at the tentacles, attempting to free their companion, but the blades seemed to phase through them AND her body as it began to… flicker in and out of visibility. It was as if she was being pulled between the material and immaterial planes of existence.

She began to read, and the alien darkness echoed her voice.

“The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only one True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead.”

Saya groaned, lightning contorting her muscles and forcing her on her knees. As she looked up, she saw an enormous tower of… books bound by some kind of dark liquid, hardened and solid like resin. Around her was an ocean of darkness, gestating and flowing as tendrils and eyes reached out of it. From the skies, the same boneless limbs reached out, hanging and curling around themselves, and countless eyes stalking what is below.

And before her stood a masked man with multiple four-armed levitating creatures beside him.

“Who are you to dare set foot in this realm?!” He shouted. She recognized his voice, staring him in the eye defiantly.

“Hi los (You are) Miraak, I assume?” She chuckled, trying to catch her breath. He seemed to calm down, as if understanding suddenly.

“...ah, I can see now. You’re Dragonborn, aren’t you.” He knelt down, taking off her mask. She struggled and spat on his face.

Freezing up for a few seconds, he sighed and wiped off the spit from the metal covering his head.

“...so this is what the Vanquisher of Alduin is like? A child of man and mer?” The priest placed the mask back and stood back up, turning around. “I must commend you, you have done well on slaying the World-Eater. It was my duty, originally. Hakon and the others approached me back in the days of war, reaching out to me, the Dragonborn, for help.” He scoffed, facing her again. “I chose a different path. One those fools could not take.”

Taking a deep breath, he shouted. “MUL, QAH DIIV!

His breath became energy, wrapping around his body. The ethereal flames of a dragon soul - HIS dragon soul - surrounded him, coating his form in scales and horns, and thus morphing into armor resembling a dragon.

“This realm is beyond you, Dragonborn. You have no idea what kind of power I wield. What power YOU could have wielded, have you not become a prisoner of your fate. Soon, my temple will be finished, and I shall return home again.” He spat, then turning to one of the creatures. “Send her back to Solstheim, she can await my return with the rest of them.”

Waves of draining force washed over her body, drawing pained screams from Saya as she could only helplessly watch Miraak mount a dragon and fly off towards the tower.

Soon, her mind gave out under the pain, and her vision faded into darkness before she awakened back at the Temple, an open Black Book held in her hands.

The title of the tome was “Waking Dreams of a Starless Sky”.

When I regained consciousness, I was back at the temple. Serana once again scolded me, saying she was worried. I could only scratch my head until Frea explained that when I was reading the Book, they phased through me, but could still see me.

This is almost eerily similar to Septimus. I hope I don’t disintegrate. Actually, I think Serana doesn’t need to know that. But I do know you read my journal, love. I don’t sleep as tightly as you think I do.

Anyways, while I was in there Serana apparently found a secret door that led right outside the Skaal village. Frea was kind enough to guide us there and introduce her to her father, Storn. After a bit of conversation, he told me that he’s been holding up a magical barrier against Miraak’s influence ever since the stones have been corrupted and asked for help in cleansing them.

Since it meant also weakening Miraak and preventing his return, I agreed. My map now had a marker titled “Saering’s Watch”, where Miraak supposedly found some kind of hidden power accessible only by Dragonborn.

As it turns out, it was a word wall. That much I expected.

Four dragons circling around it, I did not.

Thankfully, they didn’t provide that much trouble after my run-in with the eight rebels, so me and Serana killed them rather quickly.

And then comes the interesting part. The word of power inscribed upon the wall was also one I haven’t heard of.

Gol - earth. Another vague one. It was… the earth we walk upon. The quiet… songs that echo from the depths within. And a… clicking of gears?

And this word was… stopping them, somehow, and then they resumed… but not the same. Different. Like I just forced the gears to act the way I want them to. As if I... bent their will.

That was the name. “Bend Will”. The power that Miraak used to corrupt the stones. And if the “fight fire with fire” mentality worked here, that’d mean that I can cleanse them with this same shout.

...though… I can’t help but wonder what would all three words do.

It worked! It bloody worked!

The shout ended up breaking the shrines around the stones that I could find, and some kind of black energy was released from it and seeped into the puddles of water underneath. From it, then crawled a daedric abomination with the head of the statue we saw back at the temple - a Lurker.

In total, I think we killed 3 of them - the ones at the Earth Stone, the Beast Stone, and the Wind Stone. Not in that order. The opposite, actually.

And since the Earth Stone happened to be right next to Raven Rock, I decided that we should walk around the town a little bit and get to know the locals.

The innkeeper, Geldis, seemed nice enough.

Update: gods, I wish everyone was as nice as Geldis. The orc, Morgul, is an absolute piece of rotting netch shit. His bodyguard can go bite a fat one as well.

The rest are, I guess, pretty calm, although not quite memorable. I do know there's a blacksmith though, and his name is Glover Mallory. This one stuck in my memory because he would not stop complaining about a pickaxe, of all things. He asked me to find an old guy named… *(shakily written letter by letter)* Crescius Caerellius and ask him to return the pickaxe.

Instead, I got pulled into exploring an old ebony mine because I myself was interested in restoring it - my smithing skills aren't bad by any margin, but working with steel and such isn't great practice when your line of work is ebony, dragon bones and scales.

The mineshaft turned into a barrow at some point, fuck if I know how. The draugr there were clearly from the times the mine was still active, because they were wielding all kinds of ebony weapons. One of them even had a scimitar with golden lining, for crying out loud.

The real interesting stuff was when I reached a big door. Because apparently the interesting things are always hidden behind big doors, who would’ve thought.

This one had no dragon claw, though. The key to it was a big-ass greatsword that was glowing with red magical energy. It was a special enchantment which I haven’t seen before - it was the conditional type. The trigger to it was swinging the sword at a certain velocity, at which point it’d release the magic that it’s been building up inside in a form of an energy wave.

The circular frame of the door had multiple glowing sections. It opened after I almost tore my damn arms off while trying to swing this heavy chunk of metal trying to trigger its enchantment for the past half an hour, and then eventually match the pattern and get the gates to open.

Of course, nothing is ever easy, so behind the gates was a dragon priest. Just my luck, I tell you. This one was named Zahkriisos - “sword blood”, probably referring to the name of the barrow and the sword I found in the previous room. While the blade is heavy, I have to admit - smashing his skull in with it proved to be very therapeutic.

And, of course, I found another word wall. This one was another word for Dragon Aspect: Qah - “armor”. The nigh-impenetrable scales of dragonkind that defend against flame and frost alike.

Although using this shout still leaves my head ringing, it’s definitely gotten more powerful - now everything except for my head is covered in the same ethereal armor that Miraak had. And… weirdly enough, my neck felt strangely… warm. It was a feeling like when you eat spicy food or something. It made me want to breathe deeper. It made my whole body shiver.

It made me want to shout.

As Saya entered the next room, she couldn’t help but sigh when another Black Book was presented in front of her. Opening the tome, she let her eyes run along the words as she read aloud, her voice echoing through the room.

“During the reign of Elgyr, I took notice the various of in the thoughts and behaviors of the troubled populace, and undertook a humble plan to comprehend, and, in the end, affect them. Being ordered of mind, I began my taxonomy in the lower classes, which divide evenly into those who--” Her words were cut off as a pair of tendrils wrapped tightly around her throat, her vision darkening once again.

She awoke, again, in that sickening dark realm. Sighing, she unsheathed her blade and prepared for the dangers that waited ahead.

The more I wandered through this realm, the more sure I was - this is Apocrypha, the realm of Hermaeus Mora. He even greeted me when I was passing through it, the bastard. When I got through it, though, there was something interesting at the end - another version of the book opened before me and three passages began glowing.

I read one of them, and the rest faded. The words echoed inside my head: “Companion’s insight: Do no harm to he who protects you, protect he who vanquishes those who harm you”.

I’m not quite sure what it did, but I think it did… something. I read the Book again and I woke up back in Solstheim. This tome’s name was “Winds of Change”.

Alright, so get this - I stopped by back at the Retching Netch after the whole Barrow thing to get a drink and some food, and I was told that a Dunmer scholar came by while I was away asking around if anyone knew anything about Black Books.

And it was Neloth. THE Neloth from house Telvanni! He set up a tower for himself in the southeast of Solstheim, and he was here since almost 200 years ago!

...and everyone who knew him tells me he’s a prick who had a daedric boot up his backside for the past few centuries. What do you know.

Although I suppose that he’s my only way of getting more Black Books and botching over Miraak’s plans… I guess I’ll go visit him tomorrow. Doesn’t seem like too long of a walk.

Morndas, the 6th of Frost Fall, 4E201

So… he’s even more of an ass than I thought he’d be. Incredibly knowledgeable, though. I might’ve become his apprentice if I had the patience to constantly make tea for a snobbish old man whose only reaction to his steward dying is “shame, she made good tea”. Ugh.

After a bit of conversation, he agreed to help me find the Book most likely linked with Miraak. And so, we ventured off into Nchardak, while I cleansed the Sun Stone along the way.

Ah, and also three dragons showed up to try and kill me. Again. I sure do love it when that happens.

You know, I can understand the desire to hide your forbidden knowledge from passerby's and all that stuff, but gods damn all the fucking puzzles in those ruins. Seriously, if the person who made all those cubes was still alive I’d probably smash his or her face in with the damn thing!

Nevertheless, we did get to the Book eventually. Strangely enough, this one’s title already is visible - “Epistolary Acumen”. I think that means… “Awareness in Letters”. Letters as in written messages, not symbols of alphabet.

Ah, Neloth’s hurrying me up to read the Book again. Guess it’s time for more insanity. Yay.

“Alright, alright. I’ll read it, just stop talking.” Saya groaned, putting away her diary. Neloth only huffed, handing over the Black Book to her.

She opened it, her eyes sweeping across the pages and the symbols became physical as the girl read them aloud, Mora’s voice echoing her own.

“Bring you forth the lovestruck mute who preys with vigor on his love, and set the sky alight with all who dare struggle ‘gainst our move. For we are they who own the night and all who dwell without us fall; we drink the mind-grapes formed of thought and wail a tumult on the wall. To sweep…”

Her own words became quieter and quieter in her ears as she found herself back in the realm of knowledge. This time, however, she was not alone. The prince himself has arrived to greet her.

“And so, another seeker of knowledge enters my realm… ah, but I remember you, champion. I see you still keep the token I have given you. My Oghma Infinium.”

Saya looked up into the eye in the sky, her blade already drawn and prepared to fight off any nightmares who would try to attack her. To her surprise, however, there were none. So, she responded with a half-truth.

“Your Oghma Infinium is a gift of great knowledge, Mora. But I have seen what that knowledge did to Septimus. I do not know enough. I am not yet content with disappearing.” She clenched her fist. “If the day comes when I will find all the knowledge and power I seek and the only secrets unknown to me will be the ones that Oghma is hiding - then I will read it. But only then.”

Hermaeus squinted. It was difficult to tell, considering he has no mouth, but it felt like he was smiling.

“You are not a fool to be afraid of forbidden knowledge. A great many minds have been ruined, are being ruined, and shall be ruined by my Oghma Infinium. But they are of no value to me. I seek minds that can learn and comprehend the secrets that I offer. And then, I shall archive the ways in which they will exploit these secrets. I do hope you do not disappoint me, champion.”

She smiled wryly. “I don’t exactly aim to please you considering my shaky history with daedric princes, but I do think I’d rather learn your secrets and use them rather than go insane.”

“Charming. Then, if it my secrets you seek - treat yourself to the endless library of my Apocrypha. Should you tire of your search, read your book again, and return to the mortal world… for a time. Your fate lies here, Dragonborn. The lure of my realm will forever loom over you, until you uncover all it has to hide.”

Lurkers, Seekers, soul gems, and books, books, books. Ah, and more books.

That’s about how I’d summarize Apocrypha. And you’d be a fool to tell me that’s inaccurate, because it damn well is - there’s pretty much nothing else here, other than weird fish-like statues which had all kinds of books and loot in them, including gems of incredible quality.

Also, I now have enough black soul gems for every passerby to avoid me like the corprus. Maybe they should, fuck if I know. I’d kill a few people to fill these up for sure… if bandits aren’t enough, I guess. I may have enough money to buy half of Solstheim, but it doesn’t mean spending it on paying off unnecessary bounties is something I want to do.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I found a few spell tomes - one of which turned out to be a summoning spell to conjure a Seeker. I think that might prove to be useful, my fire atronach has become ineffective ages ago.

Anyways, as nice as this break was, I have a few more chapters to go through, I think. Hopefully this book has something interesting to offer.

“Well done, my champion. Your unquenchable thirst for power and knowledge has finally led you here, to my realm. I have been expecting you.”

Saya stepped upon the plant-like platform before her, calmly approaching the pedestal in front of her with the open book on it.

“Oh don’t you worry, I was just leaving.” She chuckled, opening the book. Its pages were black. Hermaeus laughed in an unsettlingly deep voice.

“No. Not yet. ” Sighing, the Dunmer closed the book, looking up into Hermaeus’ eye. “I can see your progress, I can see you growing rapidly ever since you discovered my Oghma Infinium. I see you following the footsteps of Miraak, my apprentice.”

The Dragonborn couldn’t help but frown, her expression invisible underneath her mask. “In times like these, you need to fight fire with fire. Or, I guess, in our case it’d be fight fire breath with fire breath.” She chuckled amusedly, shifting her weight from one leg to another. “I want to defeat him. He’s been causing trouble for me and for those I care about. I want him dead at my feet. How do I do that? What does he know that I do not?”

Hermaeus Mora laughed, his voice echoing from all around her, the endless pools of dark laughing with him.

“All that he knows he learned from me. I know the secrets to his power, because I gave them to him. As I shall to you… for a price.” He reached out to her, touching her forehead with one of his black tendrils. Instantly, Saya’s eyes flashed with the orange flames of draconic energy - the same kind that radiates from words of power when she learned them. Suppressing a scream, she put her hands over her ringing ears.

“To tap into your mind directly is of no difficulty for me. I have already replaced your dreams with ones I wanted to remind you of your mission, once. However, knowledge has a price. A price that you will pay to me. Now tell me, champion, what have you learned?”

With a trembling voice, she replied.

“...Hah. The mind of a living being. The ideas and memories... flowing. An small, yet endless ocean inside one’s consciousness, the moon of will controlling the tides of thought.”

“Indeed. And with the knowledge I gave you, you can now shatter that moon and replace it with yours. With but a word, you shall become the instrument that plays the music of thought inside the fragile brain of the poor fool you make into a tool for your desires. Bend his will with your power, and you, too, shall taste the mania that awakened Miraak’s ambition.”

Once the ringing in her ears stopped, she looked at Hermaeus with blurry eyes, huffing to catch her breath. “...the price… for this. What is it?”

“This word is a gift. A reward for surviving my library’s keepers. But it is not enough - without the last word, you will not be able to surpass Miraak. I shall grant it to you… but I have no interest in material gain. Repay the knowledge I gave you with knowledge I seek.”

Tilting her head in confusion, she glanced back at the Black Book, the tendril opening it again.

“Long have the Skaal withheld their secrets from me. It is time that even they will be revealed. Find the shaman of the Skaal tribe. Make him give up the knowledge I desire. And as you expand my endless bibliotheca, I will burn the last word of power into your mind.”

Tirdas, the 7th of Frost Fall, 4E201

When we walked outside of Nchardak once I returned from Apocrypha, I may or may not have realized the implications behind the existence of multiple Black Books.

For instance, it could mean that a dragon could read it and hide in Apocrypha for Hermaeus-knows-how-long before Miraak commands them to go outside, at which point they read the book again and ambush me.

Like just now. Cheeky bastard.

He said his name was Krosulnah and that he was here to kill me by Miraak’s orders. He looked… special, in a way. His scales were dark and sleek, and he had no horns. His lower jaw was also longer than his upper, instead of the other way around, like all others.

I actually remember seeing another one like it before - it’s the dragon that Miraak rode when I first saw him. If there are more like these two, I think I’ll call them… Serpentine Dragons. They honestly look like snakes more than dragons.

Now then, I think I’ll be heading off to the Water Stone soon. Storn marked all stones on my map when he asked me to cleanse them, and since the Tree Stone seems to be a bit out of my reach right now, I’ll make do with all the others.

After that… I guess I’ll have to try and convince him to tell Hermaeus whatever secrets he’s withholding. I can only imagine what the third word will be able to do.

It had just stopped snowing a few moments before they stepped out of Storn’s house, the door creaking obnoxiously. The shaman’s expression was unreadable, as he was deep in thought. He stayed silent for a good few minutes, but eventually let out a deep sigh and turned to his Dunmer acquaintance.

“...very well, give me the book. I will read it and speak to the old demon himself.”

Saya nodded, putting her pack on the snow and pulling out the book she had found in the temple of Miraak. The old man reached out, grabbing it, but she did not let go.

“...good luck. I hope you know what you’re doing, shaman.” Then, she let him take the book.

He nodded solemnly, sighing. “That is my hope as well. I trust you will see that Herma-Mora holds up to his end of the bargain.”

This time, however, they were interrupted by Frea grabbing the book with both of her hands, keeping it closed shut. Storn’s eyes looked tiredly at her. His hair was as white as the snow, and his skin was sickly pale.

“...Frea, I don’t think it’s a good idea to--”

“No! Father, you must not do this!” She interrupted the Dunmer, shouting and unknowingly gathering attention from the villagers. Children and adults alike approached, curious as to what is causing a commotion. “This book… it’s… it’s evil! It goes against everything you have taught me! You cannot use it!”

Serana stepped forward, grabbing her hand with just enough force to make her let go of the book. Storn nodded in thanks, replying with a quiet voice.

“I am afraid I must, Frea. For years we have looked for a way to free Solstheim of Miraak’s influence, and we have found none - except for this book. If it shall give our friend a chance to free us, I must take it.” He smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder as he pulled the tome out of her hands. “And besides… the old ways of the Skaal are called that for a reason. Everything must change eventually. It just so happens that I am the one to bring about this particular change in our lives.”

With that, he opened the book, reading through it. Saya kept a hand on Frea’s shoulder, her other arm resting on the hilt of her sword. The vampire, however, looked only at her companion, as if trying to read her thoughts, her expression invisible behind the mask.

It went just like normal, at first. He read aloud the same texts that came from her mouth back in the temple’s chambers, the hieroglyphics rising from the pages as he continued to read them, the ink spilling into the air and turning into tendrils that reached out towards Storn…

And then stabbed him through his arms, legs, heart, and head.

Frea struggled to break free from Saya’s hold, but she would not bulge. Darkness flowed from the book into the skies. A familiar darkness.

And then, amidst the darkness, an eye opened. Hermaeus Mora was here.

“You do not disappoint me, Dragonborn. Thanks to you, the Skaal reveal their secrets to me… at long last.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice as he spoke. Light flowed through his tendril, absorbing the thoughts of the shaman forcefully.

Frea broke free when the girl holding her was distracted by the conversation, attempting to grab the tentacles but helplessly phasing through them.

“You… liar…!” Storn spat, groaning in pain. “N-no… not… for you...!”

“Your words fall on deaf ears, Skaal. I already know all the secrets that your mind holds.”

The tentacles got ripped out of his body forcefully, but no blood flowed from the holes. The corpse simply landed on the snow, soundlessly. Serana cringed.

“No… father!” the blonde Skaal dashed towards the corpse of her parent, falling on her knees in despair. She broke out crying.

Neither of the outlanders could understand her reaction. One could barely remember her father, and the other only felt relief at his death. Saya turned to Hermaeus again.

“I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. You have promised me the third word for this knowledge.”

“Indeed. Turn your head to his corpse, champion.”

She followed his instruction, and saw that the body was glowing with a sickly green energy - Mora’s tentacles didn’t just pierce him randomly, they were etching the word into his body. Clever.

“...Dov. Dragon.” She mumbled. “That’s the third word of this shout? What does it do?”

Mora’s eye squinted with delight. “With this word, you can make even the everlasting dragons bow before you. Their minds will now be open to you, just as the minds of mortals. Tame them. Use them to reach Miraak at the summit of Apocrypha.”

“...and what then?”

“Then, the tides of fate shall decide if you will become a successor to him, or a worthy opponent to perish at his hand.”

With those words, he handed her the book and opened it. His tentacles wrapped around her body, and her consciousness was once again inside of the book.

As the girl opened the gate, she came out to a small clearing surrounded by the vast black ocean of Apocrypha. Directly in front of her was a strangely-shaped curved wall, made of the same material as the island upon which she stood. Behind it was the tower where Miraak resided.

Hesitantly, the Dunmer stepped toward the wall. Its center was an enormous scroll, half as tall as she was, and along it flowed endless inscriptions, shifting and changing. The only words that stayed in place were the ones in the tongue of dragons - and one of the words beckoned so, so sweetly.

She touched it and let the knowledge seep into her mind again. Her arms were twitching, her muscles were pulsing, her veins were pumping.

Her throat felt like it was on fire.

“...Mul.” She whispered, and her fingers felt the flames the rest of her body did, scales of energy growing from her gloves. Her hand curled up into a fist and she punched the wall, cracking the stone and breathing heavily.

“Qah.” She said, and the warmth spread across her torso, her blood boiling while the energy became her armor. She bit her lip as pain burned at her every nerve, her breathing becoming even, but only barely. She could take it. She could outlast this. She needed to.

“Diiv.” She growled, and her eyes lit up with the flames of her armor. Horns of fire grew around her head, and the pain suddenly vanished. Her mind felt so… clear. She could feel the flow of the darkness around her. She could see every drop of ink flowing in the words upon the wall.

She could hear the wings flapping through the air as a dragon approached her.

She turned around, silent. She stared blankly as the dragon landed, its eyes full of malice. Its nostrils shifted twitched as it took a deep breath.

Without her usual snark, Saya began to step towards it. The mouth of the beast opened wide, releasing gales and ice with its breath. The Dragonborn walked through it, the cold not reaching her as the flames of her armor burned away at the air around her. The energy faded, however, but the time she reached the beast.

When she did, she put a hand on its snout and pushed it down, forcing its mouth closed.

“Gol, Hah Dov.” She hissed, and the energy left her skin, flowing into her mouth and leaving it with her words. The dragon froze up, its eyes blank and dull. Moments later, the girl released him from her hold, and his eyes regained their shine.

“Qiilaan.” - Bow, she ordered. And so, he obeyed, bowing his head.

“Hail, thuri. Zu’u Sahrotaar. I see now that your Thu’um has the mastery over my old lord. Climb astride, and I shall carry you to Miraak.”

Nodding, the girl held onto his neck and climbed atop the Serpentine dragon’s head. And so, the creature rose into the air, and flew towards the isolated tower.



“...you disappoint me, Sahrotaar. Are you truly so easily swayed?” Miraak’s voice sounded unamused more so than betrayed. He expected her to come, but not quite like this. He knew it once he saw her expression the first time - she would not give up so easily after their encounter.

“I thought you’d have better manners than this, dragon priest. I was told you expected me, and here I am without as much as an introduction.” She said, smirking as she climbed off Sahrotaar’s neck. The First Dragonborn let out a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, but of course. Welcome to Apocrypha, Dragonborn. I do hope you enjoy this realm, because its green skies behind me will be the last thing you see in your dying moments before I devour your soul.”

Saya’s brows furrowed as she drew her sword. “It is not yet decided who will win, Miraak. But I’m not one to leave it up to fate.” She pointed the blade at him. “I didn’t come here to keel over and die. I came here to kill you.”

“No doubt, just as Hermaeus Mora wants you to. The irony - the Last Dragonborn comes to kill the First...” He laughed. His blade was still sheathed as he approached her. “He is a fickle master, you know. But now, I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is coming to its end.”

She snorted. “I was going to tell you that you’d die here, but that sounds much more interesting. Same meaning, though.” Her back hunched slightly as she prepared to fight, taking her battle stance.

“Charming… but weak. Here, you will die. And I will return to Solstheim at the peak of my power once I devour your essence. Then, I shall be master of my fate again!” He growled, and at that moment his hands lit up with sparks of lightning. “Kruziikrel, Relonikiv! Now!”

“Sahrotaar, Durnehviir! Attack!” Her voice summoned the undead dragon, the two Et’Ada rising into the air to attack their brethren while she and Miraak did the same.

With a whisper, she phased through his magic, assuming her ethereal form for a brief moment before swinging at the man in front of herself. He dodged by but a few measly inches, his hand reaching towards the hilt at his side, pulling it out of his scabbard like a cap out of a bottle, black liquid attaching itself to the hilt and forming into a blade with a single, watchful eye in the center.

“Not fast enough.” He taunted, slashing from his side in a sweeping motion. Saya, however, only smiled behind her mask, lifting her blade and holding it with both hands, parrying the swing.

“Right back at you.”

The two of them stepped back in unison, staring down one another as roars of frost and fire raged above them. And so, at the same time, they both shouted.

“MUL, QAH DIIV!”

“SAHROTAAR, ZII LOS DII DU!”

With those words, the third and last dragon under Miraak’s command had its soul forcefully ripped out of its body, the priest using it to regain his power yet again as his ethereal form began to fade, returning the man to the material plane.

He was a good fighter, had to give him that much - Saya’s mask, for instance, was almost completely demolished, her forehead bleeding after that one time Miraak attempted to go for the eyes. Her sword has gained some serrations from all the parrying, as the First Dragonborn’s blade of choice proved to be sturdier than her own. Then again though, her blade was nothing more than an enchanted dragon shoulderblade that has been chiseled to shape.

Her Dragon Aspect was still holding up, unlike his. Thanks to that, her arms were not yet shaking with exhaustion, her fingers still tightly wrapped around the sword’s handle.

Miraak charged at her again, his blade raised high above his head. Saya did not overlook that mistake as she whispered a word of power under her breath.

A moment later, the Nord phased through her body, stumbling as he did not meet the resistance he expected. Another moment passes, and Saya takes two steps, kicking him in the head right as he was turning around, Miraak’s ears ringing from the strike echoing in his mask. The Dunmer finally made use of the opportunity she created by then following up the kick with a blast of force as she shouted.

“FUS RO DAH!”

Struck with her voice and with no means to defend, Miraak could only scream as he fell off the tower into the black seas of Apocrypha.

The girl, however, only turned around, staring at the pool of darkness in the middle of the arena, waiting for his return. Thrice already he rose from that puddle, devouring souls of dragons nearby to restore his vigor. This time, he appeared on his knee, getting up and stumbling towards her.

“This… cannot be.” He spoke, huffing to regain his composure. He was barely standing, clutching his staff like a walking cane. “I… I learned all there is to learn! I did it! I deserve my freedom!” He shouted at her, regaining his composure and pointing the staff at her, an orb of dark magic forming at the “mouth” of the staff. “I AM THE MASTER OF MY FATE! ME! NOT YOU, NOT HERMAEUS MORA, NOT AKATOSH, NOT ANYONE--”

His speech was interrupted as he lowered his head, looking at his chest in confusion and dropping his staff. He then sighed, laughing tiredly when he saw that a pitch-black tendril was protruding from his chest, piercing him through his back and out the front.

“...ah… so this is how it ends…?” He whispered, chuckling as he was lifted into the air.

“Miraak, apprentice of mine, did you truly believe you could hide anything from me in my own realm? ” Hermaeus Mora’s voice echoed in their ears as Miraak’s helpless body was being slowly drained of its life. “ The moment you even thought of rebelling was the moment I knew. That very moment you sealed your fate.”

The man coughed, his mask dripping with blood. With his vision darkening swiftly, he felt his body going cold.

“...may she be rewarded for her service… as I was…”

With that last snark leaving his mouth, his dessicated body fell onto the ground, burning with energy. An energy Saya recognized.

And, for the first time in ages, she truly felt the rush again. She felt like she was ripping the soul from his body, devouring it ravenously. The aura around her was glowing brighter and brighter, flaming with light and heat… before it disappeared along with the souls she absorbed, leaving the Dragonborn exhausted and hurting.

Every inch of her body was in agony. Her ears were ringing, her eyes were throbbing, her arms were twitching, her knees were shaking, her breath was heavy and uneven. She couldn’t help but lean on the altar that rose up from the pool, sitting down and resting as an eye surrounded by tendrils appeared in front of her yet again.

“Well done, champion. As expected, another Dragonborn is just what was needed to curb Miraak’s fantasies of rebellion.”

She huffed, taking off her hood. “Thanks, I suppose…”

The eye backed away, closing as Hermaeus’ voice remained as he continued speaking.

“The doors to my realm - the Black Books that are scattered across Solstheim - have not all been discovered. Collect them, if you crave more knowledge akin to what you have gained. ” A tendril then suddenly reached out, taking her by the chin and making her look into Mora’s eye. “ Serve me well, Dragonborn, and you shall be rewarded. Let Miraak be an example for you. Read the book if you wish to return back to Nirn.”

With that, the daedric prince has vanished from her immediate surroundings, leaving Saya to collect herself.

Her crimson eyes gleamed with interest when she noticed a few items lying on the ground beside her.

It was done.

When I returned back to Solstheim, Serana was waiting for me at Raven Rock. As much as the scoldings embarrass me, she always gives the tightest hugs when she’s worried.

After examining the mask I found at the tower in Apocrypha, I found out that it’s almost identical to Miraak’s - although, it was a perfect fit for my size. Somehow. Eh, chalk it up to daedric fuckery.

His sword, too. Its handle seems to have shortened, even if slightly… I wonder if this was a gift from Mora to encourage me.

Ah, someone’s at my door. I’ll go ask what they want.

Alright… it was Second Councilor Arano. Apparently, he deemed me trustworthy since I killed an undead captain that was sending Ash Spawn that terrorized Raven Rock and Tel Mithryn. So now, he asks for help with a conspiracy involving… drum roll, please… oh, right, I have no drums - House Hlaalu.

Gods, I hope I at least get something out of this…

The investigation’s been moving along quite quickly now that the council has an outsider like me scouting around for information.

Well, if you consider breaking into a family’s home, killing them all, and breaking into their family safe to find a note from a guy who’s supposed to be dead who contacted Morang motherfucking Tong to kill Councilor Morvayn.

Bottom line is - I found where they’re hiding. Me and Serana will be going into the fort shortly. Hopefully we are not expected, although the corpses of Redoran soldiers don’t give me much hope for an element of surprise.

With her mask, armor, and blade covered in blood, the Dunmer girl has stepped into the main chamber, her vampire companion following shortly after. The traps in the fort have proved to be quite troublesome, so the pair was rather irritated by the time they got to the end of the building. There, two assassins awaited them.

Using their usual strategy, Saya offered Serana her arm, the vampire holding into it as the Dunmer used Whirlwind Sprint, Serana then using her magic to turn into a swarm of bats. Saya turned around, stabbing her blade into the back of an assassin's neck before ripping it out forcefully, chopping off the other's head. Serana, meanwhile, has already reformed behind the target's back, swinging her dagger to stab him in the neck.

However, the man simply ducked and grabbed her arm, throwing her over himself and unsheathing his greataxe.

“Gonna take more than that to take me down, girl!” he taunted, swinging the axe over his head to slam it down into Serana, who was still on the floor, but then staring in surprise as the vampire caught his axe, sending sparks of lightning through the blade and the metal shaft right into his arms, causing the man to step away in convulsion, barely holding onto his weapon.

“Right back at you, asshole.” Serana spat, getting up and grabbing her dagger. However, she was stopped by Saya grabbing her shoulder.

“Easy, love.” She said. “I actually have something I wanted to try out, if you don’t mind.”

The vampire sighed at the nickname. The Dunmer just loved to exploit that weak side of hers that craved affection.

“...alright. I’ll watch, then.”

Smiling, the mer took off her mask, looking at the man before her. He only glared at her defiantly.

“You bitch! I’ll kill you for that!” The man cursed. Saya only stepped aside when he tried to swing the axe which he was obviously not yet accustomed to. Some snobby nobleman who has fallen from grace and tried to get back at the person who caused said fall.

Saya grabbed his head, pushing him into the wall and pressing on his throat with her forearm. Then, after establishing eye contact, she whispered.

“Gol, Hah Dov.”

At first, he suddenly seemed very tired. His eyes rolled back slightly, his eyelids closing. She let go, and he fell without any support, landing onto his knees. His eyes have opened again, but there was no malice in them anymore. Only fear and... obedience.

“Forgive my insolence, sera. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said that. Please, tell me what to do to redeem myself.”

Serana’s eyes widened as she listened to him. She could hear his heartbeat - he wasn’t lying. He was truly apologetic. But… why would he…?

“There is only one thing you can do. You pose a threat to my current employer, Vendil.” She chuckled. “If that is your real name, of course.”

“I… I understand.” He sighed, defeated, reaching for the dagger in his boot and unsheathing it.

“Wait, what is he…” Serana asked, confused. Saya only kicked him in the foot, hissing.

“Do it already. Me and my companion have things to do other than watch you be a coward.”

Nodding, the man apologized once again before thrusting the dagger into his throat. Seconds later, he laid dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Serana could only sit and stare in shock. This wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed someone take their own life. It was a rather common occurence in an environment such as her own.

But it was Saya’s expression that disturbed her. She seemed so… indifferent. Amused, even.

She recognized that expression. It’s one she saw on Harkon’s face when he ordered a thrall to die when he was “too ugly for his liking”.

That expression, however, was quickly replaced with one of worry as Saya noticed her friend's reaction.

“Love, are you okay?”

Saya’s hand shook the vampire back into the real world before the mer offered her a hand, and the Nord took it, albeit a little hesitantly.

“Sorry you had to see that, hun. It just felt like a good opportunity to test out this new shout I have discovered.” She smiled wryly, hugging the brunette.

The Dragonborn frowned at the lack of reaction, rubbing her companion’s back in an attempt to soothe her. Then, however, her eyes lit up with an idea.

“Tell you what, after the First Councilor gives us our reward, I’ll get us a table at the Netch and we can eat something fancy from here. Okay?” She asked, looking Serana in the eye with her lost comforting smile.

The vampire wasn't quite sure what to do at first, but then facepalmed, laughing quietly in her hand. The Dunmer frowned

“What's so funny?” she inquired, pouting. That only provoked more laughter from the brunette, who took a good few seconds to eventually calm down.

When she did, Serana smiled, still trying to hold back her laughter. “You’ll never learn when’s a good time to invite someone to a date, will you.” The vampire giggled, punching the girl lightly in the shoulder.

“Aww, come on, I try! That one actually hurt a bit!” The Dunmer complained, earning a burst of laughter from the Nord. The uneasiness from before had vanished without a trace as the two ventured back out into the ash lands.

No matter how scary it is when Saya bares her fangs, in the end she was still just Serana’s dorky little dragon.

Okay, so I honestly don’t know what I expected as a reward. Money, gems, some useless enchanted fancy piece of gear with some abstract emotional value? Sure.

A fully-furnished house? No. That I did not expect.

And I squealed like a cliff racer when me and Serana got out of earshot and I was told that is what I got on top of the monetary reward.

No, seriously. I feel like I’m actually gonna cry a little bit. This feels so… so like home! It’s large, so there’s tons of space to use. It’s underground, so the rain won’t bother me like it does with Breezehome.

It even has an enchanting table, a storage area, and a blacksmith forge! How crazy is that?!

Honestly, I even had to do a bit of reorganizing - I actually set up a small table in the house’s kitchen and cooked the dinner myself. I think that it was appropriate. Cut my fingers a few dozen times with the knives when preparing the crab meat, though… At least Serana seemed to enjoy it.

Note to self - crab meat makes for some delicious stuff with kwama eggs. I’ll have to experiment a bit with those later down the line.

Middas, the 8th of Frost Fall, 4E201

Boy oh boy, today was… eventful, but boring as hell at the same time. I don’t know how that happens. It just does.

Talking to Neloth is an enormous pain in and of itself, so I took my time when travelling to Tel Mithryn. On my way there, I passed by a Dunmer archaeologist digging up some Nordic Barrow. After a bit of discussion, I found out that this is the place where a dragon priest named Ahzidal was buried - the enchanter from the times of Snow Elves and Nords fighting over Skyrim who enchanted Ysgramor’s axe - Wuuthrad.

I had some spare gold lying around, so I decided to invest into his digging. He seemed quite enthusiastic and said he’d hire some miners with the coin and send me a letter if he’d find something. I’ll be waiting on that.

Now, onto Neloth. He told me that using some kind of weird method involving a pre-existing Black Book (one of which he got somewhere), he could locate other books with impressive precision. So, after agreeing that I’d let him copy the contents of the tomes when I brought them back, he gave me their locations and I went on my merry way.

The first book was at White Ridge Barrow, which was a case of the first challenge being the hardest. You see, as I found out AFTER I was already inside, the cave was absolutely infested with large, skeever-sized spiders.

Normally it wouldn’t be a problem. But normally, spiders wouldn’t explode either.

Yeah, those cunts actually exploded with poison and fire and whatever other mammoth shit they were stuffed with. Took me so long to wash it off my armor, ugh. Still smells a bit, too.

Now, at the end of the line was a dragon priest. Just my luck, of course. This one was Dukaan - and his mask was quite cutely matching his friend, Zahkriisos, the enchantment on it increasing the wearer’s affinity for frost magic by making it easier to concentrate when casting frost-element spells and making the person more resilient to the effects of said spells. Zahkriisos, meanwhile, did the same with shock magic. Wonder if Ahzidal is gonna be the last one for the great three and will top it off with a mask that does the same thing with fire.

Kind of boring, if I’m honest.

The book was called “The Sallow Regent”, and the contents immediately raised a few questions in my head. It was stylized as a stage play - perhaps it was - but the words that the main character said were what threw me off:

“Woe betide my fate-wrecked heart, which gives no tender shine to he

Who gave his favors up to gods, and brought his blood-struck mind to me.”

And the character was holding a broken scepter, on top of that. So, while this is a bit of a big assumption to make, she was likely some kind of royalty.

Now here comes the kicker - Septimus already told me some things before. The Heart of Lorkhan - the source of the Almsivi Tribunal’s powers - was first used by Dagoth Ur, who was driven insane by it as he guarded it along with the instruments to harvest its power. And so, he performed the ritual that the three then copied - and he became a god.

And then there’s the name - Sallow Regent. A person of high power (regent) with yellow skin… like a Chimer.

And Vivec also owned a spear, which he used to killed Nerevar…

So maybe, this book was using the woman as a personification of the missing god, Lorkhan, to whom the heart belonged?

Ah, and I also discovered a word of power in there - Ven, “wind”. The shout, as I soon came to know, was called “Cyclone”, and it summoned a small… well, cyclone.

I learned another word in Benkongerike - Gaar, “unleash”. There, I also found the next Black Book - “Untold Legends: The Other Lives of Ysgramor”. It was disappointingly self-explanatory - it simply told some old legend regarding Ysgramor. Couldn’t even discern anything interesting by the time I got pulled in.

After bringing these two back to Neloth, however, he let me take his own Black Book as well - Hidden Twilight. The beginning part which I can remember told about some person venturing through a realm of “beggars and poets”, and none who pass through it are apparently proud of it. That notion and the title leads me to believe that the main character was a thief passing through Evergloam - realm of Nocturnal, the daedric prince of shadows and thieves.

With that out of the way, Neloth told me that there’s no other books he knows of, so I am pretty much out of tasks to perform here on Solstheim.

Might hunt a netch on my way back… other than that, I think we’ll be going back to Skyrim very soon.

Turdas, the 9th of Frost Fall, 4E201

Clink, clink, the hammer sung

And struck the metal once.

Dum, dum, the Dunmer hummed,

Clearing out her lungs.

Clang, clang, the metal cried

And grew red-hot in fire.

Hiss, hiss, the forge had breathed

And burnt bright, like a pyre.

Calm, calm, the atmosphere

In the silent forge.

None, none, all of them gone

The whispers from the porch.

Deep, deep, inside the box

Deep underneath the sea

There, there, alone and cold

Its voice no one will hear.

Dum-badum, beats the heart

Once so quickly swayed.

By the whispers of the vile

Lady of Decay.

Ding, ding, sings the gem

As she slots it in.

Spark, spark, shines the ring

With its golden rim.

Drip, drip, flows the blood

Iron on her tongue.

“Eat, eat!” whispers the

She-demon to the rogue.

“No, no” mutters she -

The elf girl - in her breath.

“Not like this” she mutters, still

Denies the taste of death.

Click, click, the armor says

As she pulls it on.

Scratch, scratch, says the ring

Continuing its song.

Shake, shake, sings the box

Just one thing inside.

“It’s over now” says the elf

Filled with one desire.

Splash, splash, water spoke.

The box was thrown away.

And now the demon’s ring is left to,

In the sea, decay.

I forged a ring for myself.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a simple gold ring with two emeralds adorning it. The enchantments on it were nothing out of the ordinary, either. A dexterity enhancing spell to help my close-range swordplay and a focus enchantment to help me aim with my dropping eyesight. Nothing you couldn’t find in a shop.

And yet, I felt like I was moving a mountain off of my chest. Because with this ring now on my finger, I had completely discarded an artifact that has haunted me ever since my first days in Skyrim.

The Ring of Namira.

I know she is stubborn. All of them are - Malyn Varen was a good example of a daedra’s persistence. I know it’ll reappear eventually, when the devil thinks it is time to try and pull me into her schemes again.

But for now, very few things gave me the same satisfaction as locking that ring in a strongbox, melting the key in the forge, and throwing it into the Sea of Ghosts as me and Serana were flying on Odahviing’s neck towards Windhelm.

We’d be home soon. And that home would be freed of just one awful memory, even if only for a time.

Can’t say I missed the weather, but feels good to be back. The first thing I’ve been greeted with (other than the usual slurs from Rolff, whom I promptly punched in the nose) was a peculiar letter from a person named Cassia, who was asking if I could help her find her brother who went inside a place called the Forgotten City - an old dwarven ruin somewhere south in the Reach, its entrance apparently concealed by a waterfall.

Suppose I’ll have to check that out later. Might be a trap, in which case I’ll get some target practice. If it isn’t - then I might have a new ruin to explore. Win-win either way.

Me and Serana took a carriage to Whiterun and promptly jumped into the bed almost instantly after we took off our gear. Gods, I should really just take a fucking week off or something. Maybe I will, honestly.

Just not right now. Too many things to do. Not enough time to do said things AND rest.

Ah, Serana is calling me over to bed. I guess I shouldn’t keep her waiting too much, she doesn’t like that kind of thing.

And, I guess, it’s off to this… Forgotten City tomorrow morning.

Fredas, the 10th of Frost Fall, 4E201

So, the entrance to the Forgotten City was understandably tricky to find - it was hidden behind a waterfall next to a nordic ruin which gathered much more attention.

I went in to check it out and found Cassia - she was really jumpy, but I didn’t mind it too much. Apparently, the poor thing has been here for a few days now, waiting for her brother who went in to explore but didn’t come back. She wasn’t sure if she’d survive going down there, so she asked for me to come instead.

Now, the entrance was a giant hole. That didn’t give me too much confidence on its own, but then there was the cryptic greeting on the pedestal in front of the hole - an “invitation, or a warning” from someone named Metellus. In the end, I just jumped in. Serana soon followed.

Our fall was broken by water. Painful, cold, but at least we’re not dead.

The city was… creepy. In front of us was some kind of business district, I suppose, at least judging by the old market stalls. In the middle of it was a large dead tree. All in all, not too strange, but the damn place was just FILLED with burnt corpses.

Except for one - the old man who hanged himself on the tree’s branches.

Next to the body was a suicide note, claiming that this man was Altrius - Cassia’s brother. At first I was wondering how could he be so old when Cassia looked no older than twenty-something, but I discarded the thought when I read that he “spent a lifetime” down here. I suppose it’s not that uncommon for some places to have time flow differently - although those cases were usually comparing planes of Oblivion with Nirn… Something was definitely wrong here.

Ignoring the note’s warnings, Serana and I entered the palace behind us - the word “Citadel” was inscribed on the door. It was barren.

You could tell that people used to live here. Not dwemer - people. And it wasn’t long ago, either - the invitation in front of the entrance dated back to the past decade.

Still functioning kitchens, broken bathroom, lots of bedrooms, unfinished diaries… one of the lockers even had some peculiar armor in it - belonging to a Dark Brotherhood assassin, judging by the handprint on the back of the belt.

And there were dwemer busts absolutely EVERYWHERE. And… I don’t know how to put it, it felt like they were… watching us. Waiting for something.





So… Altrius delivered on his promise to protect the key with his soul - just killed his ghost a few minutes ago. He looked so tired. I kind of feel bad for him - I don’t know what he went through that made him so insistent on making whoever arrives turn back and take their life. According to him, there was no way out, but… that can’t be right. There has to be a way to at least get out through the same path as you came in.

I kept exploring. Soon enough, I entered a very large room - seems like a storage room which was repurposed to house some kind of noble, perhaps belonging to the Jarl or the King of this city.

There was also a door leading to a balcony - I went there, and found the key.

Two seconds later, I was on the stone floor, with Serana shaking me awake and doing her best to heal me, because the fucking thing collapsed.

If this was Altrius’ doing - fuck you again, Altrius. Just to spite him, I went to the lakehouse which he begged for me not to enter, unlocking the door with the key. Inside was another corpse wearing some kind of expensive mantle, and on the table was a note.

The gist of it is that the door to the lakehouse (when used from the inside) was turned into a portal that’d transform me back in time, and Metellus - the Jarl who wrote the note and the invitation - asked for help in discovering what exactly caused this city to perish.

I’m a little doubtful, but I guess I can’t really get out anyway. Might as well try out this portal.

The motherfucker actually did it.

When Serana and I stepped out of the lakehouse, we were met with… sunlight, although artificial. A giant orb of light (not unlike the one in Blackreach) hung from the ceiling, becoming a makeshift “sun”. There were no corpses, instead people were walking around, speaking to one another and working. Crops grew, water was clean, and the stink of ash was gone from the air.

A man called me over, Gulvar. He was a farmer, and he was understandably suspicious about two people he’d never seen coming out of the Jarl’s private lakehouse. After a bit of conversation and a few excuses, he offered me and Serana a trip to the Jarl so he could assign us a place to live at, and I accepted.

And before that, I made sure to ask the date - it was Last Seed of 4E194.

Moving on, apparently there were 24 people living here total - more or less matching the amount of corpses I found in the city. The guy got stopped inside the citadel by a slightly less pleasant fella named Hjormund. Supposedly, he was an overseer whose job was to make sure all farmers were working - and in his eyes, Gulvar was slacking off right now, which could mean hunger for the rest of the city.

Hjormund led me through the rest of the Citadel, giving me a tour of all the rooms that I’d already seen. They were completely untouched and... complete, not even a speck of dust on any of the furniture.

It was… unsettling.

Eventually, I met the Jarl on the balcony. I instantly asked him if we could please step inside, and while he was confused, I brushed it off as having a fear of heights.

Hah, if only he knew my preferred method of travel.

I’ll have to keep an eye on him, though. Something about him seems a little off when he told me about a probable cause for the future I’ve told him about - breaking something called “The Dwarves’ Law”.

From what I could tell after talking with him and the locals, the Dwarves’ Law is some kind of concept upheld exclusively in the Forbidden City which states that all (or, at least, “the many”) dwellers of the city “shall suffer for the sins of the one”, so it was likely an intimidation tactic to keep people from commiting crimes and living in conflict.

If it isn’t a pile of shit, then the person who came up with it sure is a self-righteous bastard.

In any case, I got to work as soon as I could. With permission from the Jarl, I checked every person’s room in the Citadel - including the one with the Dark Brotherhood assassin. His name was Marius (assuming that it isn’t an alias), and he wasn’t a direct threat, thankfully. He was a bit blunt and distant, but otherwise he just seemed like a person who was too tired of taking orders and so he left his old job for a relatively peaceful existence down here.

Now, the other guy, Domitus… now him I wrote down as a potential trigger. Not as a culprit, though - as a target. The cocky s’wit talks down to everyone just because he lives in the Citadel and not down in the city like everyone else. Someone’s bound to at least hit him at some point.

Maybe it’ll be me, who knows.

Now, almost as soon as I came out of the Citadel I heard that looters were attacking the city, and that them killing or taking anything would break Dwarves’ Law if they got in the City’s territory. So, me and Serana rushed to the entrance and quickly dispatched the invaders.

Quite curiously - one of them was a Dark Brotherhood assassin looking for an imperial named Quintus. If anyone here had gold, I’d bet a thousand that Quintus is Marius’ real name. Those people don’t easily give up on people who try to leave, especially taking the rumors about the Dark Brotherhood being actively hunted and almost exterminated into account.

I think I’ll add Quintus to the list of potential causes of the Law breaking. If any of the assassins make it in here and try to harm someone, it’s likely they’ll break the law in the process.

Now, after talking to the locals for a while I came by a guy named Vernon. He seemed constantly tense and I considered adding him to the list for a few moments, but then soon realized that his nervousness came from harassment - for whatever reason, it’s not considered breaking the Dwarves’ Law.

Although I suppose if it did, then these people would’ve died MUCH quicker.

It took a bit of convincing due to the consequences of revealing this information previously, but he told me why he’s being harassed, too - he just likes men. Honestly I feel a little guilty for laughing so hard, but seeing his upset face change into one of friendliness was worth it when I told him I’m into girls. He really does seem like a nice person. A shame people aren’t so understandable.

In any case, the notes he gave me from the harasser was written in red ink and in full capital letters, which were all also in the same handwriting. So… guess I’ll be looking out for a person who owns red ink.

A man named Habiq also seemed kinda troubled, so I asked if I could help him - he said that he dropped a ring that belonged to his late son and it slid under the door which he can’t seem to unlock. I tried picking the lock, but it seems to be one of those locks that need a key if you don’t want your brain to melt over the course of multiple days as you try and pick the damn thing.

Next up, I decided to ask about the sunken house in the lake, but nobody really knew anything about it so I checked it out on my own - there was a hatch leading somewhere, but it was locked with the same lock that the door under Habiq’s store had. Now I double-need to find this damned key.

After asking around town if anyone knew anything about hatches and tunnels around the city (including possible ways out), the resident gossiper (and possibly prostitute) Rastasia mentioned a fellow Dunmer, Ulrin, having his wife disappear some weeks ago, mentioning offhandedly that she might’ve known a way out of the city and escaped without her husband.

So, I confronted Ulrin. The guy was pissed, to say the least. I managed to calm him down, saying I just want to help him find her if I can, or find a way out so he can find her on his own. He couldn’t tell me anything helpful, though, so I decided to finally make use of the privileges Metellus granted me and checked out his house.

And lo and behold - his fireplace had a hatch hidden under a wolf’s hide which lead into the tunnels!

Good news - I found a key to the hatches around town, so I found Habiq’s ring as well. I gave it back to him later the same day.

Bad news - I kind of… found Ulrin wife’s corpse. And an amulet that said something along the lines of “With love, from Ulrin” in a pile of skeever scat belonging to a skeever that was just about as large as a bear.

When I came out of the underground and gave the amulet to Ulrin, he seemed grateful… even if you could easily tell he was devastated. I thought he was mad at his wife for leaving him before, but as it turns out, no - he was just mad at people badmouthing his wife and claiming she’d be unfaithful and just run off without him. He really did love her. Poor thing.

Also, I tested out the key in the sunken house - it didn’t match, although it’s similar. Shame. Guess I’ll have to look for another.

Now, just as I was go to the tavern to meet up with Serana (who was also doing a bit of recon), I was followed by a certain homeless guy named Dooley. He was the resident madman, basically - or, at the very least, everyone in the city agreed that he’s lost his marbles a long time ago. Which is a shame, because from what I can tell, said loss of marbles was caused by the death of his brother, who was his only guardian.

He asked if I could help him find his brother’s treasure, so he told me that said brother hid something in the sunken house and gave me a key.

Now this one DID match, and it unlocked the hatch without a hitch. Pardon the wordplay.

Underneath was an enormous underwater ravine that led to a tower. There, a few argonians lived who invited me over to dinner. Thanks to the memories I’d rather not have, I recognized the scent that was coming from them and realized they were maneaters, at which point intimidating them with the business end of my longsword didn’t prove to be much of a challenge. Neither did picking the lock to their tower and finding the chest inside.

The treasure Dooley spoke of turned out to be a note and a key. The key wasn’t anything special - the note, on the other hand…

It was blackmail. It said that the golden gates which the Jarl keeps hidden conceal a part of the Forgotten City where the Dwarves’ Law doesn’t take effect, and that here he “commits unspeakable atrocities”.

Ah, and Dooley found me pretty quickly after I came back out into the City. The poor lad was excited, asking about the gold and gems that his brother hid. I couldn’t tell what he’d do if I told him what the real treasure is, so I just took out my purse and split half of the gold I had on me with him. I think it was around five thousand… I don’t really care what he does with it, to be honest. I think he’s gone through enough to have at least this much closure.

So, I decided to take Serana with me and check this locked room out - and in it was…

It was Ulrin’s wife. The corpse in the sewers was just… one of the bodies Metellus has found when he first found the city. He tossed the bodies down there to keep the Skeevers busy and away from the upper city.

She was chained up, naked and covered in cuts and bruises… and the bust at the opposite side was broken. I talked to her for a little while and promised I’d let her out later when I can secure everyone’s safety and locked the room.

So me and Serana have gone to a balcony, where there was nobody to listen to us, and we pooled together all information we have. And I figured it out - the trick to the Dwarves’ Law. It’s the busts.

The busts have piercing blue eyes that I recognized - it was the color of Aetherium, the material that Katria was researching before she died. The girl behind the research which was stolen to make the Aetherium Wars book.

The Dwarves’ Law was actually some kind of dwemer technology that’d activate when the busts would spot a crime. Now that I think about it, the maneater Argonians had to kill people before - and yet, they didn’t break the law. That’s because there were no busts in the cave. There wasn’t even a single drop of blood in the tower, however - because there was a bust hanging inside, right over the door.

I decided that before we should go to bed, I’ll go to this Brol person - the scholar who was the one to decipher the Dwarves’ Law inscription originally. He turned out to be another kinsman, so he was pretty easy to talk to. He suggested I visit Brandas if I wanted to know more than he does - the man has attempted to descend into the deeper levels of the city and ended up covered in burns. I suggested that it might be the magical burns from Aetherium - the glowing mineral had to be somewhere close by to be used so liberally, so he probably stumbled upon a vein.

So, I visited Brandas… and he was dead. Well, he was still breathing when I came by, but after wheezing out a few words about some special armor, he died, pointing at the boots that were under his desk. I took them to Brol to inspect, and he noted that they appear to have some peculiar properties, so I pulled out the Aetherium shards I’ve been carrying around with myself - the magical energy was being reflected off the metal, which Brol detected using one of his spells.

So… now we know that the Jarl is a scumbag, that the busts are what is keeping track of the Dwarves’ Law, and that the source of Aetherium used to create those busts is more or less directly underneath the city with a passage available.

I think I’ll go to sleep for now. This day has been… a wild ride, to say the least.

I just hope I can get over with all this by the end of tomorrow… I miss home already.

Loredas, the 11th of Frost Fall, 4E201 (?? Last Seed, 4E194)

So. Today I started off by taking Serana with me and going into the abandoned palace that was sealed off. There were a lot of coffins, both filled and empty, and while I do apologize to the owners of these but I didn’t have much of a choice in getting over the sealed gates without using them as stairs.

Behind the first gate was a charred corpse with gloves from what looks to be the same armor set as the boots I found in Brandas’ house. So what I ended up doing is taking them and going deeper in.

Inside was… creepy shit.Charred skeletons and burnt undead were walking around, trying to kill and eat us. Thankfully the halls here didn’t have the busts anywhere other than a single lecture hall filled with burnt bodies, so me and Serana took care of the corpses. Somewhere deeper in we found a note from the necromancer who raised them, too, and a text that confirmed that the people down here burned because of breaking the Dwarves’ Law.

With that information, I went back to Brol and let him read through the documents while I took a peek into the house interior of a certain individual named Rykas, aka that asshole who walks around with an axe dressed in armor from the set I need, creeping everyone out. And, as it turns out, I found some red ink in his house - so he was the guy bullying Vernon, too.

I could barely contain my laughter while scaring him into ceasing his harassment by saying that if he doesn’t stop, I’ll cast a spell on him and make him into Vernon’s “love thrall”.

Vernon, on the other hand, did not contain said laughter. He was grateful for the help, so I made sure not to bother him for the rest of the day. Smell of burnt corpses doesn’t help business as far as I am aware.

With that out of the way, though… I needed to get that armor. And Rykas was definitely not giving it to me willingly.

So… I decided to play along with Metellus’ little game for a little bit and told him that Rykas was the person who’d break the Dwarves’ Law. So, he has given me orders to dispatch him - but not in the hidden room. He didn’t know I knew, and he wanted to keep it that way, so instead he told me to go to the underground catacombs and kill him there - as far as he knew, the entrance was safe and didn’t have any busts.

And so, I led him there - it was easy enough, considering that he really hated being watched by busts and has already displayed quite a desire to get back out to the world above ground. It only took one sentence claiming that the catacombs contain a way of getting out of here and he followed me like a dog.

When I killed him and took his armor, though, something strange happened. I heard a voice. “The many shall suffer for the sins of the one”, it said. And it echoed from the depths of the catacombs. I quickly ran in, grabbing the helmet from the matching set and stuffing it in my pack along with the rest of the armor and ran out.

It was chaos. Centurions everywhere, breathing fire and surrounded by some strange shields of magic. My shouts could barely stun them, and my sword just bounced off the damned things.

This is how the Dwarves’ Law was enforced. Every denizen would die as soon as a crime was detected in the city.

Making my way through the city, I ran into Brol’s home and took the texts that I gave him. I told him I’d need them if I wanted to fix everything, and while he was very confused, I didn’t have time for explanations as Serana and I dashed into the lakehouse. Soon after, Metellus came and I saw him writing the letter - the same one I gave him to convince him I was from the future. After that, he cast some kind of spell on himself and slit his own throat.

His soul seeped into the door, and it shone purple again. He opened the portal.

I went through again.

When we stepped through again, everything was even trippier. The people said the same things as the first time I met them, nobody recognized me… I mean, I guess that’s to be expected, but still, it was really unnerving.

Without bothering Gulvar, I went straight to the bastard that caused this. I had a few things to say.

“You bastard!” a girl’s voice resounded from the balcony. The insult was directed at Metellus, who stood there, dumbfounded.

“What? Who are you?! How dare you--”

She didn’t wait for him to finish, opening his note and showing it to him. It was the note that spoke of the “unspeakable atrocity” that would happen that’d bring about the deaths of everyone in the Forgotten City.

Saya was furious.

“...what is this? It’s… it’s my handwriting, but… it doesn’t mention what happened… who are you?” The man turned to her, dumbfounded.

“I am the person who came here through your portal to help prevent this calamity of yours. And I know what happened.” She stepped closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d kill you here and now, but then I would not get another go at this, since you wouldn’t get to open the portal.”

The man’s brows furrowed. “How dare you threaten me? I don’t even know you, peasant! You march into my Citadel like you own it and you dare talk to me like that? You sicken me!”

She grabbed his forearm, clutching it just hard enough to hold him still but not enough to make him feel pain and trigger the Dwarves’ Law.

“Your citizens will die because I broke the Dwarves’ Law. And I did when I was following YOUR orders.” She hissed, letting go of him. “I killed a person in the catacombs when you deemed them to be the person who’d break the law once I brought you my list of suspects. It didn’t work. The Law is still upheld there… unlike your room.”

The man stepped back, shocked and angered. “...how did you…?”

“How did I know that Maisi was locked in there where you tortured and raped her? I have the key.” She pulled it out of her pocket, showing it to him. “And I’m not giving it back either. I promised to let her out when I made sure everything will be safe. Ah, and if you lay as much as a finger on her, I’ll drag you to the lakehouse myself and force you to open the portal.”

She put the key back into her pocket. “The Dwarves’ Law is not eternal. I will do something about it, Metellus. And when I do - no centurion will save you then.”

With those words and a whisper under her breath, her body turned ethereal and she stepped through him, leaping off the balcony and landing safely down at the base of the Citadel.

Just in time to hear a woman shout about looters invading…

Well, that was therapeutic.

Serious talk - okay, I agree. It was partially my fault for agreeing to kill Rykas in the first place, but I did need the armor. There’s something down there, in the catacombs. Something that I need to find.

Something that I would not get to if I did not protect myself with that suit of armor.

It’s heavy. It’s unwieldy. I can barely move in the damn thing, but… the magic doesn’t burn me anymore. But first things first…

I went down into the tunnels again. I found Habiq’s ring, I told Vernon about Rykas’ threats, I convinced Rykas to stop again, I brought the amulet to Ulrin… and I went to Maisi and asked her to wait for just a little longer.

And then I turned to Serana and asked her to wait, too. Said that it won’t be long.

I hope I wasn't lying.

“Ah, and here you are. I’ve been waiting for you, Dovahkiin.”

A deep voice echoed in the chamberas Saya took off her armor, dressing herself in her regular gear. She snorted.

“So, you know who I am?” A pair of red eyes looked at the figure curiously, one eyebrow raised.

The man clad in dwarven armor only laughed. “Of course. Your memories are an open tome to my eyes. I know you have committed terrible crimes before. And you will be judged for them.”

“Spare me the condescending comments. I’ve heard enough of those. I may not be completely clean, but I am no criminal.”

“You say that, but I know what you have done. I know you have taken lives in cold blood.” The voice said. She instantly added.

“Lives whose purpose was to bring suffering upon others.”

“You have slain countless dovah and hoarded their souls for yourself, turning them into weapons against those that you consider ‘evil’.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, pointing at the large crystalline formation under him.

“Just like you hoard the Aetherium to yourself and use the technology made with it to murder countless innocents.”

He paused, his fists clenching as she pulled on her gloves one by one.

“...and I also know you came from the future. For what purpose? Has your lust for power grown so strong you’d break the rules of time itself?” He stepped closer. “I warn you right now, Dovahkiin. You will not take my power from me. You would not be so foolish as to break my law.”

She grinned, donning Miraak’s mask. “I am not interested in your power, dwarf.” Then, Saya stepped forwards as well, looking him in the eye sockets in his helmet. “So, you created a law according to your ideals, you take away the simple right of privacy from everyone living in the city you made, and even as much as a single act of violence, even directed towards a criminal for the sake of punishing them, is now reason enough for you to kill an entire population? You call me a criminal, but what does that make you?”

“That makes me the Arbiter. I judge your kind, because without my law, you are unable to live without conflict!”

“...so you’d murder dozens of innocents for the execution of one wrongdoer? You have lived for thousands of years and yet you’re that blind to how people’s minds work?” She poked his armor. “What gives YOU the right to judge them, when you have committed crimes worse than all of the people who lived here combined?” The Dunmer chuckled. “It’s time to put an end to your law.”

“...I know of your sins, Dovahkiin, but I know of your heroic deeds, as well. For that, and that only, I will listen to you. Choose your words carefully.”

“Like you, I tried to fix something that I could not fully understand… and now look at me.” She turned around, frustrated. “I tried to find the breach, I tried to discover who would break the Dwarves’ Law, and in the end I BECAME the law-breaker! Look at yourself, are you not the exact same thing? You tried to fix something, you tried to create a society without conflict, and yet… you just commit genocide. You kill people for what you consider wrongdoings, but is killing a criminal a wrongdoing? Is stealing a poison that was meant to kill another a wrongdoing?”

“...this would explain why you would travel back in time. Attempting to fix your mistakes.”

“No. Attempting to fix YOUR mistakes.” She glared at him. “Looters attack the city and kill someone, everyone dies. One man pushes back a drunk who is harassing his significant other, everyone dies. Your entire law is a mistake. You have taken hundreds, if not thousands of innocent lives for the purpose of achieving ultimate peace that cannot even physically exist!”

“I warn you. Choose your words carefully. If you insult me, I will not hesitate to execute my law for threatening me.”

“Ah, but I’m not threatening you, am I?” Saya laughed. “And besides, threats aren’t a crime, are they? I saw a man being harassed every single day for being different up in your city, and yet it was not a crime because nobody was physically harmed. I heard gossips ruining people’s lives, making an innocent woman into an unfaithful whore and her loving husband into an abandoned fool in the eyes of society. Because people can no longer push away the person who crosses their road and mocks them and ruins their life, a girl has to suffer as she’s forced into a relationship with a self-loving bastard who looks down on everyone for no other purpose other than being someone who doesn’t lick his boots.”

Pausing, she pointed at his helmet. “Your system is flawed, and making it stricter will only worsen the situation, because the root of the problem is not your Law. It is your mind.” She lowered her hand. “If your mind is so broken that you see conflict not as part of life, but as something unnatural and to be punished, if you’re so prideful that you would justify mass murder by saying that it is what is true… then the moment you chose that you have the right to decide what is right and wrong - you were in the wrong.”

The man was silent, looking at his hands.

“...these hands of yours are soaked in blood no less than mine, Arbiter. You have one chance to fix this.” She said, her tone softening.

“...everything I have done, everything I have devoted my life towards… you ask me to go back on it.”

“You have tried to limit the suffering that mortals brought upon one another, but you could not. You created a law that made people live in terror… or die because of one misstep. This… this is no justice. It is idealism.”

“...all I wanted was to bring peace to this world. Even the smallest piece of it. I waited for countless years, hoping that the next generation would fare better than the last! But they all met the same fate… the day when a generation of no conflict would arrive would never come, would it?”

Saya shook her head, sighing. “...I’m afraid not. You have heard the legend, haven’t you? That the world came to be of two forces - of Anu and Padomay. The two of them were imperfect. One was a force of infinite stasis, of unchanging time. The other was a force of everchanging nothingness. Only together could they fuse so that life could come to be.” She put a hand on his shoulder.

“...with just order alone, the world cannot exist. It needs conflict so that it may change and others can see their wrongdoings and fix their behaviors. So that criminals are punished, and so that life can continue. Without conflict… those who hide their crimes can go unpunished for their entire life, ruining the lives of others and walking dry out of water. Is that what you wish upon your people?”

“No. I... I wished for the happiness of people who would live in my city. I wished that my children could live a joyous life of peace… but they used the knowledge and resources hidden here to make weapons to use against one another. Against myself.”

“And so, you lost faith in their ability to judge right and wrong. You decided that you can do it for them.”

“...and now I see that I have failed.”

The two stood in silence for a few moments until the Arbiter spoke up again.

“...very well, Dovahkiin. From this point forward, I’ll cancel my law. Your kind is free to live how they choose, squabbling for the rest of eternity, as they always do. But first, I will destroy this Aetherium so that they may not exploit it like those before them have… or like I have.” The Dwemer then faced her. “But I warn you, Dovahkiin. These actions will bring about a paradox in time, and this world will develop differently than the one you came here from. Not even I can predict what will happen of the city above us. Are you ready to return to your time, with that in mind?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Then tread carefully… and farewell.”

“...Altrius?” The Dunmer whispered, getting up from the floor, the suit of dwarven armor still beside her. The last thing she remembered was a flash of light… and then she was here.

Wait… was she back in the present?

“You… wait… do I know you?” The Imperial man stepped towards her, helping her up as the girl was holding her head, a splitting migraine making her ears ring.

“...you do…?”



“Yes, I… no, that… that can’t be right.” His voice was undeniably similar to the ghost, just much… younger. Livelier. He continued. “I was just thinking… you reminded me of the person whom this statue was dedicated to.”

He pointed behind himself, and Saya’s eyes widened. True - on the pedestal where the Aetherium dome used to be now stood a statue made of metal, looking exactly like her clad in the dwemer armor that protected her from the radiation on her venture into the catacombs.

Beneath it was inscribed her name. “Saya Indoril”.

“That’s… me.”

“What…? But how could that be? Nobody saw anyone enter or leave this place for… seven years now. Are you playing tricks with me?”

“Wait. What day is it?” She turned sharply, asking him. “Day, month, year?”

He stood back, a little intimidated at her directness, but replied. “Um… Loredas, 11th of Frost Fall, year 201 of fourth era?”

He actually did it. She was back in her own time.

“...now that you made me remember. You’re Altrius, right? Your sister was looking for you.”

The young man’s face contorted into discomfort as he realized his mistake. “Oh gods, Cassia… I promised her I’d be back soon, I’ve spent days here already! I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Saya only nodded in understanding as she walked upwards, towards the city, and gasped in surprise when she saw that the sky was visible again. According to the inscriptions under the statue, when the Dwarves' Law became null - the sky-under-the-ground exploded, and the ceiling opened to real sunlight.

She couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw Domitus and Hjormund working in the mines. She smiled and greeted Gulvar, who was made Jarl once the Law was cancelled and Metellus was executed for his crimes. She talked to Maisi and Ulrin, showered in thanks by the couple. And - what do you know - she congratulated Vernon on getting together with Rykas, whose harassment was in fact a facade to hide Rykas’ own attraction.

And finally, she stepped into the inn when the sun came down and the sky turned pink above the city.

Everyone greeted her, everyone recognized her… but her ears were deaf to their words. Instead, her eyes searched only for one other person, and everyone went silent when the two gazes met.

Serana’s footsteps echoed on the stone floor. She still wore the armor. Every day, despite there being no need to, no obligation, she wore the armor and used the dagger that Saya made her. Just to have a reminder of her.

“...I’m back.” The Dunmer whispered sheepishly, taking off her mask.

“...I was waiting, l-like you told me to.” The vampire’s voice was quivering. “I… I was beginning to fear y-you’d never… that you wouldn’t come back.”

Tears were streaming down the pale cheeks, but they were quickly wiped away when Saya took off her glove, cupping the girl’s cheek.

“...I was beginning to fear that you would give up on waiting.” She responded, pulling her close. The two couldn’t help but smile when they heard a woman’s voice.

“Would you look at that… almost making me wish that my husband was still here.” Rastasia chuckled, raising her mug. “Let’s drink, people, this one’s on the house!”

“For love!” Ulrin shouted, cheering.

“For life!” Gulvar added, his own mug filled with mead and raised high up.

“For the hero’s return!” Serana finished, reaching for her mug and taking the first drink, the entire tavern exploding into cheers as all drank and celebrated.

And while all whispers and sounds drowned in the shouts of the happy crowd, Saya tasted mead on her lips.

She never drank any that night.