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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-202-05-06 05:13
Arch-Mage's Quarters, Winterhold, Winterhold, Skyrim
Today would have been Rayya's 20th birthday. I tell Lydia and Jordis to go to the bath ahead of me. I stay behind in Arch-Mage's Quarters and cry. Sooner than I would like to, I stand up and bring myself in order as well as I can. I need to get a grip of myself. Rayya is in Sovngarde now and there is nothing I can do for her. All I can do is to be kind to the good people who are still alive. Speaking of which, last night was the closest thing to a fight I've ever had with Lydia. I have to be more careful with what I say. I can't afford to lose her too.
She gave me a lot to think about yesterday. I had always assumed her childhood had been exciting, full of adventures and many different people. Now it rather looks like she has a griefful void in her soul which I can't even begin to conceive.
We head for Dånstar.
[series of 5 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then click again to see the next picture etc.; press Esc to return to the text]
Our final destination is the wreck of Orphan's Tear west-southwest of Solitud, but it's still so early that we don't need to hurry. I think maybe I ought to spend some time at the Shrine of Dibella south of Dånstar – be alone with my thoughts as well as give Lydia and Bjarne some time. Unfortunately, there are snowtrolls near the shrine and I don't want to disturb them. As Rorlund has said, I mustn't force my memory. So I return to the town and chat a little with the sailors in the harbor where Jordis and Jenassa soon join me. The men ask if there's any chance we'd care to go inside with them (they seem to sense we wouldn't appreciate lewd suggestions), and we refuse politely.
When Lydia returns, we run to the Imperial camp and then proceed to the west instead of the road south. I want to see if there's anything interesting in the region.
Well, there isn't.
Solitud is quite near as the crow flies, but we must cross a lot of water (fortunately with many islets). The weather gets worse by the time we reach the neighborhood of wooden shacks on the eastern bank of the bay. The guards are very agitated and so are the ones on the western bank, but we can't find out what it's about.
When we're in the city, the sun comes out again. I pay a visit to the temple, because I want to ask if they know anything about the Falmer exodus.
I pray to Dibella first, and beg her to watch over Rayya's soul. Then I approach Freir, the priest's assistant's assistant, in other words a servant with career hopes. She shows me the temple archives. It's not exactly the Winterhold library, but it has an encyclopedia of deities that contains an article about the god Xrib whose sanctum Calcelmo thought might be worth investigating.
The last time we were in Markarth, Calcelmo scribbled the title "The Legacy of Dwemer Paragons" on a piece of paper for me, but they don't have that book here.
Freir says Calcelmo has been here looking for information on Falmers, but it was years ago. In fact, she seems to have guessed what my plans are, and urges me not to meddle with the Falmers. So does Lydia when we discuss it later. My plan to bring about a reconciliation between Falmers and Nords is an utopia, she insists. "You told me there is no reason for us to hate the Falmers, because they have been living underground for centuries and we have seen no signs of them being able to ascend to the ground and attack us, or even planning on doing so, remember?"
"Of course, I do remember."
"Well, exactly for the same reason is there no point trying go change the current situation. Falmers have plenty of space where they can live in their own way, doing their Falmer things and herding their chauruses. We have been in many Falmer places and we haven't seen any signs of them starving or struggling or anything. If they would come and live among us, it would create only trouble."
I'm beginning to agree with her. In fact, when I was going through those books in the temple, I did have a strange feeling that this was going to lead to something I wouldn't like.
In a somewhat downcast mood, I walk with Lydia to the palace.
Having said hello to Jarl Elisif and her bodyguard, I leave them talking with Lydia and go alone to see Sybille. I tell her about the amazing abandoned megalopolis of Ter'Avina which we ought to resettle before someone else does it, and that the leaders of Eastmarch and Winterhold are interested, but there might be some kind of a bad air or aura there that makes people slightly crazy, and does she have any idea what to do about it? Sybille promises to give it a thought.
I'm not sure what makes me ask her to tell me what her game is, whose interests does she follow. I mean, it's something I've been wanting to ask her all the time, I've just been doubting she would actually tell me.
"Maybe you'll be surprised, but the interests I follow are my own," she answers. I can see she's pensive, and I almost hold my breath, afraid to interrupt what I hope to be her drift towards frankness.
Sybille goes on: "We are a doomed race. The vampires' way of life is not, to use a word popular in Valenwood, sustainable . I am the most selfish one among the vampires. I have left the sinking ship."
I don't quite understand what she is trying to say, but I'm too fascinated to interfere with one or another probably very ignorant question.
"I have found myself a place where they let me sleep during most of the daytime, there are enough criminals for me to feed on, and I have enough free time to pursue my modest interest in research of magic. In return, I oversee the magical security of Haafingar and give my advice when asked. I have to make myself useful so they would continue to allow me to stay. Apart from which, I like helping. And I like observing. I enjoy being informed about what people are up to. So my job isn't in fact a burden at all." She smiles slightly. "Honestly, Laura, that's all there is."
I look into her eyes, but not for long. "Does Volkihar exist?"
"Oh yes. They are very real and in fact very dangerous. But for some time now, there haven't been any new attempts to infiltrate Skyrim. The Volkihar organization has been keeping to themselves on their island, you need not know where. It seems like they are in trouble. I sense some kind of a major internal conflict. But I'm only guessing. There's a human organization called Dawnguard that was established to fight them, but I haven't heard of them for quite some time either."
"You mean, the vigilants of Stendarr?"
"No, they're completely different. Well, maybe not so completely. I don't know how dense their cooperation may be. They both operate far from Haafingar, so I haven't really been watching them."
"But you seem to have been watching the Volkihar vampires. Does that mean their base is closer to Haafingar?"
"Anything else you wanted to know, Laura?"
I get the hint. "I've been having the impression you were fighting against vampires, and I haven't been able to figure out why you would do that."
"Firstly, I'm protecting the people of Haafingar as I've promised to do. Secondly, I'm keeping competition away."
That makes sense. "I used to wonder if you were perhaps supporting one vampire faction against another."
She shakes her head. "I am the other faction. But we're not fighting. All I want is a quiet life. They believe I have just chosen to live separately. Many vampires live on their own. But they must never know I'm actually protecting humans, or they might attack in force and destroy me, as well as great many humans while they're at it. That's why I can only operate through people like you. That gives me plausible denial."
"Did you just say there were others like you?"
"We need blood, as you surely know. There's never enough where there are many vampires close together. That's the big problem. We can't go on living like that forever. There simply isn't enough nutrition sources in the long run. That's why people keep leaving Volkihar, hoping to find a place where there are enough humans or at least suitable animals and little competition. However, with separateness comes the danger of being killed by the vampire-hunters. The point is, Laura, I'm no different from the others, I've just had better luck. But it's impossible for the whole vampirekind to live like me, and we can't live in any other way either. So all I can do is preserve the current situation for as long as I can and prevent other vampires from settling down in the area."
"Can't vampirism be cured?"
"It can, but it would mean I'd get old and ugly. That's not going to happen as long as I have any say in it."
I remain silent and Sybille goes on: "They are looking for some kind of a solution, of course. I remember people talking about it when I still lived in Volkihar, but I was never important enough to be let in on any big secrets."
Sybille takes a more relaxed position in her chair and looks into somewhere far behind the upper corner of her room. "That was a very long time ago. We have legends about a time in the future when everything will be different. Something to do with an Elder Scroll somewhere. And there is supposedly a very important female vampire imprisoned by extremely powerful magic somewhere in central Skyrim. How much of it is true, I have no idea. The point is, I don't know how to save my people. There are too many of us. If we overran Tamriel, we might even win, but we would only end up in an embittered fight against each other for the dwindling blood sources. I'm going to do everything in my power to not let that happen. It's impossible for all of us to survive, so I'm going to be among the few who will survive. In a certain sense, I'm a traitor."
I sense her sadness almost physically. I don't want Sybille to be sad. So I change the topic: "What do you know about Urag?"
"Urag is a kind of recluse like me." She smiles again. "Except that he has people around him who aren't afraid to socialize. Only he's not very interested in socializing. Well, the point it, he has found himself a purpose – to guard knowledge."
"You mean, like Hermaeus Mora," I ask, mildly shocked.
"Not at all. Hermaeus Mora is in active search of knowledge. He has the urge to learn everything there is to learn. It's His essence. It's, you might say, what he's been created for. He doesn't have to worry about preserving knowledge. Whatever He learns is with Him forever. His problem is to keep up with everything that is happening and being made up every second all over the world. Urag's problem is to preserve what he has gathered. He watches over a vast collection of books, scrolls, notes, clay tablets, possibly engraved stones and whatnot. He doesn't mind new information, but it's not his biggest concern. He's got enough work with keeping his collection from burning down or getting flooded or blown up or, for that matter, stolen or vandalized."
I smile. "I guess he has. I understand better now why he is so grumpy."
Sybille nods. "Urag doesn't care much for people. He shares things in exchange for new books and such, like he has done with you. He cherishes knowledge, but he doesn't have the means an ethereal being like Hermaeus Mora has, so he just strives to guard all the written heritage of the world. That's what makes him happy."
I nod.
Sybille goes on: "And obviously he has to share information with the folks at the College, so that they would continue to allow him to take care of their library... and provide him with dry warm protected space for it."
This is great. I now realize I've been doing the right thing helping him after all.
"And before you ask, Laura, I don't know how old he is and I've no idea how he keeps himself alive. In fact, I've never even laid eyes on him."
"Fine." I guess it's time for me to go.
"Thank you for talking to me," Sybille says as she hugs me.
"My pleasure," is all I can think of replying. She was the one doing the talking. But of course I understand what she means. I never realized until now how badly she must miss company. Non-repulsed, non-terrified company.
Sybille has turned her back on me. Is she crying? Can she? I turn around and walk away. Let that remain her secret.
I walk around some, meet up with my followers and at half past two we leave by the coastal road that goes north first and then turns west.
On the coast northwest of the city, we check out a cave, but there are Falmers inside and so we sneak out again. This is fantastic – we succeeded in checking the place out and leaving without having to kill anybody!
We reach that shipwreck well in daylight. There are three bandits whom we shoot dead without breaking a sweat. The book "Last King of the Ayleids" Urag wanted is in the remains of the cabin that is quite well preserved (and so is the book).
I know we should hurry because we're going to Markarth and it'll be dark soon, but I can't stop myself from sitting down and browsing through the book.
The Ayleids ruled over Cyrodiil and the Imperials were their slaves until the year 1E243 when Alessia, later empress of Cyrodiil and still later Saint Alessia, started an uprising and ousted them. That's a story I've heard many times. That's why the Imperials are a bit of a laughingstock in the eyes of the other races, holding a slavegirl for their all-time greatest hero. On the other hand, the attitude is their strength, because they allow everyone into their empire but make them fall in line with the Imperial rules – other than, for instance, High Elves, who look down upon everyone else and try to keep their race pure, and are thereby doomed to degradation. Maybe you remember, Jenassa explained that to me a couple of months ago.
But that's neither here nor there. What this book tells is that the popular belief about an Imperial slavegirl having wiped away the mighty Ayleids has in fact very little substance. There was fierce power struggle going on among the Ayleid nobles. The Imperials chose their timing well and they presumably had many clever leaders and they ended up victorious and Alessia ended up the empress one way or another, but that is not what this book is about. This book tells the story of the Ayleids – how in fact a number of Ayleids continued to rule as vassals of Alessia for more than a hundred years, by which time the Imperials had grown strong enough to start an outright physical obliteration of their former masters.
The Ayleid population escaped first from the human-ruled areas to the Ayleid-ruled areas, but eventually Cyrodiil was entirely cleaned of Ayleids. Those who survived the massacres emigrated to Valenwood and High Rock where they were eventually assimilated into the local elven population.
The book goes on telling about the battle of Glenumbra Moors in 1E482 where the Ayleids lead by "The Last King" fought alongside the Direnni Altmers against the elf-hating Alessian Order from Cyrodiil and kicked their asses. Well, maybe I shouldn't be happy about something like that. Sorry. The point is, I don't read the book to the end. I turn the pages back and stare at the words "High Rock". A significant part of the Ayleids escaped to High Rock. (In fact, Glenumbra is in High Rock too.) So Ayleids have contributed to the gene pool of its population. Could there be Ayleids among my ancestors? Is that the reason why I am so fascinated with them? Why should I care? What difference would it make after all those centuries, indeed eras?
I suddenly remember what every child in High Rock is taught about our origins. I'm sorry, I must tell it to you (as well as the girls) now. I have to let it out.
The oldest known inhabitants of High Rock the historians have been able to find out about were the Nedes. It was long before the invention of writing, so we don't really know much about them except that they were enemies of the Orcs. In the early 1st Era, High Rock was conquered by some Altmers from Summerset. It was a clan called Direnni. They didn't enslave the Nedes, they just ruled over the country. It is possible that there wasn't any serious enmity to begin with, with the Altmers being much higher developed than the Nedes. Probably the latter looked up upon the former and appreciated the advances of civilization they had brought with them. At any rate it is evident that the Direnni men valued the local women highly.
The children from the interbreeding between the Altmers and the Nedes were not accepted by the Direnni as their own, because they were obsessed with keeping their race pure. So the half-breeds formed a kind of a middle caste between the Direnni and the Nedes. They were called Bretons. Not allowed to marry Altmers, their future generations became more and more Nedes-like, that is, the Altmer (and, as it now would seem, Ayleid to some extent; this is not widely known in High Rock) genes got increasingly diluted and the Nedes genes prevalent. The result was the modern-day Breton race.
Now, that history raises one very important question: how could the Nedes and the Direnni Altmers produce children who were half one, half the other? As I've told you, none of the human and elven races of today can do that. So, were the Nedes even human? Yes, they were according to the ancient Altmer and Orc legends, but those might have called all non-Mer "humans". Nevertheless, the prevailing opinion is that the Nedes were indeed human, because the Bretons are unquestionably human and how else could they?
Or can even the Bretons have half-breed children with the elves??
My followers have never seen any such half-breeds, but maybe there are some in High Rock. But this is really not the time to rack our brains with this. The important thing is I have recovered yet another major part of my lost memory. I somehow know that this is what Jora of Windhelm had meant by "remembering something very important". My Amulet of Learning has now served out its purpose. I can, of course, make another one any time I want, but I know somehow that this particular amulet I have to pass on to someone I wish well. Maybe I'll give it to Lydia when I leave for High Rock. Or Ertzebet?
I'll think about it. The important thing is I feel whole now. I am ready to go home. I shall stay for Lydia's birthday which will be in a month from now, but then I'll leave. I have nothing really important left to do in Skyrim, especially when I'm not going to pursue that Falmer quest. So the girls and I shall travel around a little more and then I'll probably just chill a few weeks in the Hviterun–Windhelm area.
But now we really must get a move on. We're still going to Markarth today.
We run along the northwestern coast for some time.
The coastline is getting increasingly difficult to travel. Quite frankly, I'm getting reluctant to proceed.
I feel like staying here. The ocean is kind of drawing me towards it. Maybe Rayya is there somewhere?
Yes, I know, it's stupid. We'd better find a way to climb up those mountains before I break into tears.
I feel like staying here. The ocean is kind of drawing me towards it. Maybe Rayya is there somewhere?
Yes, I know, it's stupid. We'd better find a way to climb up those mountains before I break into tears.
We struggle to find a route over the mountains.
Maybe it wasn't Rayya that was calling me. (Well, of course it wasn't.) Maybe it was High Rock.
All right, I promise I'm not going to bore you anymore with constant reminders that I'm homesick.
All right, I promise I'm not going to bore you anymore with constant reminders that I'm homesick.
But the rest is easy. I've told you The Reach, although mountainous, is pretty comfortable to travel because of all those north-south-directed valleys. And thanks to our Cushioned armor, we can safely jump down from heights. Thus we reach Markarth well before midnight, indeed early enough to drop by Fortune's Tradehouse where my Argonian friend Ut-Keen gives me a pair of very special boots he has made for me. They make me run faster, and they're really beautiful too.
After that, the girls and I do some decorating in our house and then go to sleep.
next awakening
